Darker sides

I was reading through the amazon 'search inside this book' page for the book 'Inconsolable: how I threw my mental health out with the diapers' earlier today, because it was recommended on a blog I follow. She had, and documented, postpartum depression. I don't have it. In fact, I've had more than my share of those glowing, wonderful, new baby moments - the ones I didn't have last time, where I'm gazing into my baby's eyes and I'm filled with this joyful feeling. (This current moment is not one of them: Annika's in her little chair in front of me, screaming her little face off, exerting her force of will. She wants to sleep ON MUMMY. NOT on her little chair. NOT on her pillow. And most certainly NOT IN HER BED).
  But despite not suffering from depression at the moment, and despite having a relatively "easy" newborn, I was intrigued by the book's excerpts, especially the comments about the dark side of motherhood; about how she hadn't been "crying behind her smile", she'd been putting her baby down (safely) and then bashing her hands into walls and screaming (or something like that). Well ... so part of my dark side is that I've been losing my temper with Nina and I'm not proud of it. I just can't stand the endless whining. Is she doing it more now? Or do I, in my relatively sleep-deprived state, just tolerate it less? Or both? Is it that she's regressing - for example, using these bedtime-delaying tactics that she'd seemed to have abandoned? Today after a number of prompts to try to get her to come to brush her teeth, I simply picked her up, carried her to the sink and brushed her teeth - end of negotiation, though she was crying while I brushed. Then I carried her to her bed. Then I told her she could say she was sorry and I'd read her a story, and she did, and I did - but by then Annika was fussing and crying so she had to intermittently breastfeed, which is uncomfortable as I crouch beside Nina's bed to read. It all doesn't sound too bad, but I was a bit rough with Nina and she could tell. Same deal with getting her out of the bath - she said she was ready to get out (screamed it at me, in fact) and then of course she refused to get out, so I picked her right up and hauled her out and told her not to whine about it.
  I guess I'm just getting so sick of the endless negotiating, her endless need to control every single detail of daily minutiae: which damned cup her water's in, whether she opens the door or I do, which sweater she'll wear, when she gets out of the bath, whether she comes to brush her teeth or I carry her, and on and on and on and on and on ... And when it doesn't go her way, the endless whining, oh my god the WHINING. I am hoping that consistent, calm insistence that she use normal words and that we don't respond to whining will eventually bear fruit, but so far progress is somewhat limited. She's responding, and she can do it - but she usually tries whining first. I'm not proud of myself for losing my temper. But I'm definitely not unprovoked.
  And Annika? She's showing some signs of losing her ability to get to sleep on her own. She won't sleep in her little crib, of course, though she does a good job in her carrycot and in her carseat. Today I bathed her in Nina's bath. It was cute - I put her in the water, on a terry towel on Nina's lap. Nina helped hold her head up. Annika got in the water and just lay there, smiling happily. It was adorable. Then I washed her, and dried her -- only to realize I'd rubbed most of the soft newborn hair off the front half of her head. I feel kinda bad about it. This was not a day of parenting triumphs. Now she's refusing to feed, but she's not happy not feeding either - so it's time to stop typing. And she's scratching me! Little suckler.