Sniffle, sniffle, cough, cough

What's sadder than a sweet little baby coughing and hacking all night long? I daresay it's her tired parents nearly in tears at 2:45 a.m. because they are still walking the floors with her, but it's not true! There is no sadder sound than darling C.'s little lungs trying so hard to expel the yickies. I can't blame this illness on daycare, can I? It's just US--we're a germy family!

Before her all-night party, though, she slept soundly for several hours. Instead of taking advantage of that window to do laundry, clean my messy, messy house or spend quality time with Nate, I watched the Olympics and read blogs, something I haven't had much of a chance to do of late. As such, there are two big things on my mind this morning.

1. Why wasn't I born into a snowboarding family? Or at least a family with a geographic location conducive to skiing, snowboarding, the outdoor life, etc? Why of why oh why? It's not just that I want the cool clothes and hair(though I do, especially the coat with the iPod pocket), I want the whole ATTITUDE, the whole this-is-so-fun-I'm-just-happy-to-be-here thing, the laidback lifestyle. And since it's obviously too late for me (thanks for pointing out that I'm too OLD to snowboard in the Olympics, KC), I want it for Clementine. Seriously, I want to move to California, live a hippy lifestyle and raise a daughter who thinks about the halfpipe more than the SAT because those snowboarding kids seem so much more comfortable, confident, FUN and creative, not to mention happier, than the ones I used to teach at my big fancy Ivy League college. Does that mean I fail yet another parenting test, or have I found the answer?

2. I was reading the blog of a mom who is trying to decide when the right time is to have another kid. Her son is a few months older than darling C., and she wondering if she'll ever be able to love two kids the same, if she'll be cheating them of her attention, etc. etc. I am not even going to weigh in on that, especially after last night and my aggregate three hours of sleep. What did catch my eye is when she mentioned how rough the first few post-baby weeks were on her marriage. YES, I thought, those weeks DO suck, and no one ever talks about them (except maybe my sister who once told me I would never hate or love anyone as much as the person with whom I have my children). Sure, total strangers will talk to you about their nursing boobs, nipple inflammation, flabby ass and stomach and their birth-lacerated vaginas, but no one will tell you about how difficult it is to maintain your happy marriage (hoping it was happy in the first place) over the incessant screaming of a newborn and all the subsequent decisions you have to make together. Sure, books say you have to "set aside special time with your partner." They tell you to go on a dinner date, talk openly, make special time for sex and intimacy etc. etc., but they don't warn you that when you are sleep-deprived, confused, hormonal and out of control, the easiest target is the person you love the most--in my case, Nate. We totally struggled those first few weeks, and I was too fucking embarrassed to admit it to anyone, especially people who seemed to have it so together. I think he and I both wondered if we had made a terrible mistake by having a child together, but I was too chicken to ask any of my other mom friends (and we all know how few I have) if they had those problems too.

So why the silence? Is this the frontier of motherhood that is just too private and personal to discuss? Or am I alone here? Did everyone else easily transition from being two alone to three? From well-rested and secure to sleep-deprived and confused?