Honestly, I was really asking for it when I made a dump cake for the staff Halloween party and then biked to work with it. It dumped.
And I was asking for it when I spent the last few hours of the night on the couch with the baby, even though the bed was wide open, S working the night shift. Sleeping on the couch with a white noise app supplanting my alarm, snuffly sleeping baby supplanting my desires to even roll over to check the time.
Oh, and I know full well that sitting in the bumbo seat makes the baby poop. So I have no one to blame but myself for putting him in it while I was running late, trying to get his diaper bag ready for the day, already dressed, both of us.
10.30.2015
10.26.2015
800 miles
My favorite nickname for the baby is Moolos. Also I really like referring to him as The Smitty. There's no reason for either.
He has his first cold. He's dripping rubber cement and sneeze-coughing-gurgling. He cries and he grins through the discomfort and my heart bumps. I would always always let him sleep a night on my chest.
He makes traveling difficult! We drove about 800 miles with Moolos in the back seat. On the way back his voice was froggy when he cried. He makes traveling kind of better! He is a good side kick. He makes a good trio out of us.
I say: thanks for not being an asshole. Thanks for being patient. Thanks for being mine.
I say: thanks for being quirky. Thanks for being up and down. Thanks for being warm and sweet in your sleep.
I am very lucky to have friendships that span decades, already. And brilliant weekends to celebrate and share and get lost in the fall and plan for the decades to come.
He has his first cold. He's dripping rubber cement and sneeze-coughing-gurgling. He cries and he grins through the discomfort and my heart bumps. I would always always let him sleep a night on my chest.
He makes traveling difficult! We drove about 800 miles with Moolos in the back seat. On the way back his voice was froggy when he cried. He makes traveling kind of better! He is a good side kick. He makes a good trio out of us.
I say: thanks for not being an asshole. Thanks for being patient. Thanks for being mine.
I say: thanks for being quirky. Thanks for being up and down. Thanks for being warm and sweet in your sleep.
I am very lucky to have friendships that span decades, already. And brilliant weekends to celebrate and share and get lost in the fall and plan for the decades to come.
10.20.2015
this-is-for-now
I need to not forget gloves.
I need to wake up at 2:22am without a sense of dread.
Yesterday the small one earned his first $10 by sitting on my lap in the university's cognitive development lab. He watched images on a screen; he was watched. I am always wading through all-campus emails that say, 'volunteers needed!' or 'do you have a child under the age of...' and I usually blink them away, but this time, I DO have a child under the age of.... I DO have a child.
I think, no, I know, that the way to get through this whole kid thing in tact is to not make assumptions and to not read new-normal when it's really this-is-for-now.
He rolls over. And then he gets stuck. So, you know, there are lots of things to laugh about.
I need to wake up at 2:22am without a sense of dread.
Yesterday the small one earned his first $10 by sitting on my lap in the university's cognitive development lab. He watched images on a screen; he was watched. I am always wading through all-campus emails that say, 'volunteers needed!' or 'do you have a child under the age of...' and I usually blink them away, but this time, I DO have a child under the age of.... I DO have a child.
I think, no, I know, that the way to get through this whole kid thing in tact is to not make assumptions and to not read new-normal when it's really this-is-for-now.
He rolls over. And then he gets stuck. So, you know, there are lots of things to laugh about.
10.06.2015
12.5 weeks
My person is different. My PERSON is different
I am deeply, deeply, disturbingly in love with a tiny human that came out of me
He is fussy and intense and really likes when I sing to him and taking naps draped all over me and going on walks and being on tables
He is amazing
He is strong and in a state of perpetual motion
He is expressive and weird and grins a lot and sounds like a jaguar when he's overtired or overhungry
He is a mini S and I love them both so much for being rooted in each other
I have been awake since 4:45 and I think this is just how it's going to be
Wearing patterned shirts only, or no shirt at all, if I want to not change outfits later
I am squashy and sore and my lungs are deep deep
I am biking again, and pushing not to push too much
It's hard not to give 100% with a bike
I know I have to cool it at first and work up to flying
It's hard to give 100% at work
I have been away from work for a lifetime but also it was only a few days, to me
All I want is a sleeping baby in my arms and not a stack of bound periodicals
But I still really love my job because of what it feels like and how it fits and who it surrounds me with
I'm very glad to be here
I hate that I'm not at home
There's a picture of my baby on the wall above my desk and looking at it makes me tear up
I have cried more in the past 100 days (88 days of mothering, a few extra thrown in before the mothering started for good measure) than the decades that came before
This is all drudgery
This is all something I miss when I'm not drudging
S and I are trying to find a rhythm and it's not there yet
He's either on or off, and I'm both
Everything is either rushed or too serious
I talk too much and repeat myself over and over
I worry
I overflow with pride and delight
I go to bed too early and fall asleep too late
I get restful sleep, I think, in only two ways: when I'm asleep with the baby on my chest and when I'm alone in bed when S is up with the baby
They are the only circumstances when I can relax enough for deep sleep
The baby's WITH me, or he's WITH him and I can stop my alarm system
I have grown a keen alarm system
Marriage is hard, after a baby, when it was easy before-- or should I say being a wife is hard, after a baby, when it was easy before
We have run out of toothpaste and I haven't cooked in weeks and S had to wear un-laundered scrubs today
Our kitchen smells like old coffee and formula
I am a bad cow, thus the formula
Maybe if I have a second baby I will be a better cow?
Maybe if I have a second baby I will cry less?
Maybe if I have a second baby I will love him/her with a calmness, instead of terrified desperation?
It took, oh, eight weeks this time
THIS IS A TIME WARP
All of these things I'm doing, I don't really have another option
This is hard to accept
This is hard
This is somehow unnaturally natural
This is my kid, this is my kid, this is my kid.
I am deeply, deeply, disturbingly in love with a tiny human that came out of me
He is fussy and intense and really likes when I sing to him and taking naps draped all over me and going on walks and being on tables
He is amazing
He is strong and in a state of perpetual motion
He is expressive and weird and grins a lot and sounds like a jaguar when he's overtired or overhungry
He is a mini S and I love them both so much for being rooted in each other
I have been awake since 4:45 and I think this is just how it's going to be
Wearing patterned shirts only, or no shirt at all, if I want to not change outfits later
I am squashy and sore and my lungs are deep deep
I am biking again, and pushing not to push too much
It's hard not to give 100% with a bike
I know I have to cool it at first and work up to flying
It's hard to give 100% at work
I have been away from work for a lifetime but also it was only a few days, to me
All I want is a sleeping baby in my arms and not a stack of bound periodicals
But I still really love my job because of what it feels like and how it fits and who it surrounds me with
I'm very glad to be here
I hate that I'm not at home
There's a picture of my baby on the wall above my desk and looking at it makes me tear up
I have cried more in the past 100 days (88 days of mothering, a few extra thrown in before the mothering started for good measure) than the decades that came before
This is all drudgery
This is all something I miss when I'm not drudging
S and I are trying to find a rhythm and it's not there yet
He's either on or off, and I'm both
Everything is either rushed or too serious
I talk too much and repeat myself over and over
I worry
I overflow with pride and delight
I go to bed too early and fall asleep too late
I get restful sleep, I think, in only two ways: when I'm asleep with the baby on my chest and when I'm alone in bed when S is up with the baby
They are the only circumstances when I can relax enough for deep sleep
The baby's WITH me, or he's WITH him and I can stop my alarm system
I have grown a keen alarm system
Marriage is hard, after a baby, when it was easy before-- or should I say being a wife is hard, after a baby, when it was easy before
We have run out of toothpaste and I haven't cooked in weeks and S had to wear un-laundered scrubs today
Our kitchen smells like old coffee and formula
I am a bad cow, thus the formula
Maybe if I have a second baby I will be a better cow?
Maybe if I have a second baby I will cry less?
Maybe if I have a second baby I will love him/her with a calmness, instead of terrified desperation?
It took, oh, eight weeks this time
THIS IS A TIME WARP
All of these things I'm doing, I don't really have another option
This is hard to accept
This is hard
This is somehow unnaturally natural
This is my kid, this is my kid, this is my kid.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)