I made it through those first rough weeks, those first two months even, fine. Well, you know, all things considered - I did alot of crying and not alot of sleeping, but I felt well. Healthy. Happy. So, so very blessed. And here we are, approaching six months old very fast and I'm sort of feeling, blah. Very blah. Very bored and lonely and tired and fat and frumpy and like I'm losing any intelligence I had whatsoever each day that passes. I know the words to Raffi songs and how to fold a cloth diaper and how to cook dinner and entertain a baby at the same time.
Right now I'm wearing a sweater over my nursing gown (which is spotted with spit-up) and my fuzzy red Christmas socks. I've not showered. I've not brushed my teeth or my hair. It's 11:00am and what I have done is clothed my child (twice), wrangled her while trying to suck boogers out of her nose, washed a load of diapers (that are now piled on my sofa) and a load of Chris's work clothes. What I've considered, but haven't done, is eat an entire bag of "healthy Cheetos" called Bearitos. I opted for a banana and almond butter.
I've made a spreadsheet of costs for my potential Farmer's Market business and got lost in the numbers... I've got such mommy brain.
Most things cost money to do, which I'm trying to avoid doing... It is 40 degrees outside... I do have a five month old to take care of... I know that this is a season in my life, but right now I can't see past my postpartum flab, way too many clothes that don't fit, the fact that even though my husband works two jobs, our bank account never seems to have enough money...
I don't know why I'm being whiney. Chris tells me to take another placenta pill and cheer up. I know tomorrow I can throw open the front door and perhaps go out for a walk (if Camille doesn't scream her head off one mile in...) since it is supposed to be 70 degrees.
I love my family. I do. Motherhood has changed me, and Chris, and our marriage. It's hard with work and church commitments for him to see her much during the work week. So, the last think I want to do when he comes home at 5:00 is throw a baby at him so I can go to the gym, or for a walk or for a manicure... Especially since 7:00pm is her bedtime and she can get pretty cranky by 6:00pm...
It's hard not to be selfish, but it's necessary to take care of me too.
I just feel like what I'm doing is immeasurable. And often routine and boring. I know she'll be running around here in no time and I'll miss blowing raspberries on her belly and playing patty-cake on the floor. I do love her gummy grin.
Sometimes I want three more kids. And sometimes I think, "I am so done..."
You are doing great. You look beautiful. Your daughter is too precious for words. Hang in there. This is the best truth I can give you about the first year: it is EVERYWHERE on the map. It does not ascend, steadily getting easier. You have ups and downs, and ups and somewhere in the middle. It can be crazy making. Parenting is a series of ups and downs in general, but the first year is out of control.
ReplyDeleteKristy, I am ALWAYS thinking about you. Seriously, like how do you do it with four kids, TWO infants. And on my bad days, when I can just strap her in the swing while I finish dinner, I wonder how people do it. I know when my day comes, it'll just happen and I'll be fine. This mommy thing, it's FOR REAL. Thanks for the words. And for reading! Bless you friend.
DeleteI always love reading your writing! You have a gift, and the transparency is fresh and appreciated. It is crazy around our house, but you're right about it just happening. All of a sudden you're outnumbered, and it's awesome and overwhelming and out of control. And sometimes people eat hummus with their fingers straight out of the container because dinner did not happen!
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