Who is this Child and Where is my Son?

18 months. The joy. Luckily, I have read some info on the trusty internet and I have learned about sleep regression, tantrums and the general insanity of the 18 month old. It isn't cold comfort since it helps me know I am not insane, but I can't say the advice is so helpful. Books have some advice, but the real moms on forums just say wait it out. It goes away and your loving child comes back. It gets better again at 20 months. Only problem here is that at 20 months the plan is to have a newborn. Maybe he is training me for what is to come in terms of sleep deprivation and patience.

Quinn throws a tantrum every 5 minutes. He has started waking up at 4am, totally inconsolable. He throws food. Teeth are budding. He is miserable. He wants only Mommy, who is 7 1/2 months pregnant and living on a hovel (violins, please!). Last night as I fell into bed so exhausted having been up since 4am, I prayed this morning would be better. No such luck. I am about to get into the shower to go to work and do a shitty job since I feel nauseated I am so tired. All the forums from the mommy's of 18 months olds talk about how totally tiring it is. I can't help but note that it is so much worse for me (violins, again! Please?) given my delicate condition.

I am such a martyr. Really. This is another problem of fortune I am overall grateful to have. I have a child who is doing developmentally exactly what he should, and I am nearly 32 weeks pregnant—a milestone that for me that is cause for trumpets.

Yet, I would like my son back. The sweet one who pretty much sleeps through the night and who smiles, plays independently and eats almost anything you put in front of him. This new kid doesn't sleep, he tantrums every 5 minutes and he hardly eats anything or throws what you give him to the floor if it is not to his liking. The only saving grace is the poor guy is so miserable that you can't help but feel for him. It's a saving grace because I DO have some empathy for this new spawn that helps me be loving and kind despite wanting to scream and run away. Honestly, sometimes he looks so beseechingly at me, like "Help me! I am trying to tell you so much but I CAN'T and it SUCKS!!!" I am able to say "I know little man. I know."

Some good news (I'm finding it's helpful to end on a good note). The painters say we can be back in two weeks. I thought it would be 3. I know I will be able to handle this better at home in my king size bed. The hovel is taking its toll.