I'm not sure what's causing it, but I don't think I'm enjoying this baby (current nickname is Mudbug, thanks to her looking like a crawdaddy propped on Alton Brown's shoulder one day when I was burping her) as much as I did Boo.
It could be rose-colored glasses - I distinctly remember wanting to ship Boo back to wherever he came from about a week after he was born. It could have something to do with my in-laws moving from Colorado Springs to Oakland, so we don't have the immediate help available. It could be that I'm generally down during winter. It could be that I had all these fantastic expectations for a baby girl, but since I wasn't much into dressing up dolls as a child, it's not holding much appeal for me now, despite having gone out to buy $200 of pink clothes as soon as we found out Mudbug's gender. It could have something to do with the fact that, after having been on modified bedrest since October, and on full bedrest since Christmas, I expected to be able to get around better, but I have lost most of the muscle tone I had built up before the pregnancy, and it's a heck of a lot more effort trying to go places with two kids instead of one.
And it could have something to do with the fact that we've all been sick since Christmas with one bug or another - I think we've had a total of about two weeks that one of us hasn't been sick. Today it's me with strep and the flu. We've actually managed to use every dime of our cafeteria plan benefits in the last three months.
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