Reality? Huh? I think our paths diverged somewhere and you are nowhere in sight.
If I were a good little mommyblogger I would have shared a million funny stories with you by now, we would have bonded over the trauma and truth of birth (and afterbirth), or at the least bored you with endless photos of my child doing cute things. Like this one:
(Olivia Wagner Photography)
But I haven't made it there yet.
It's 4:30am and she's fast asleep (miracle).
But I'm not (d'oh).
(so peaceful when she is sleeping)
I woke up with a rock hard chest. Like an elephant was sitting on me, or I was buried under rocks. I tried to ignore it, flip over, burrow back in - to no avail. So I'm pumping and praying that she's still asleep when I finish, and that we both get a few more hours of rest. Especially since today is my first adventure out with the girls (the ADULT girls), like a real grown up and not a dirty schizophrenic hermit.
Yeah, that's right, I'll admit it - I'm sort of a dirty schizophrenic hermit these days. It's the new reality I guess. I shower...sometimes. When I have a reason. Otherwise it just doesn't rise far enough up the priority list. Other "necessities" I don't have/find/make time to do anymore:
-anything with my hair beyond a messy pony tail
-cleaning my glasses till they are completely opaque
-cleaning the house
-going to the bathroom
-eating anything requiring more prep than Girl Scout Cookies and Goldfish Crackers
-leaving the house unless absolutely necessary
...and so much more. Priority #1 is keeping the kid alive & content (the latter is a pretty distant 2nd, and only done if possible). After that it's sleeping, AKA keeping myself alive. Luckily you can totally live on cookies & crackers, and if you are breastfeeding/pumping you can even lose 30+ lbs that way. Who knew?
(jewelry? clearly this was a planned photo op. My usual accessories are burp rags. They're cute and multi-colored, but not exactly red-carpet).
The "dirty" part is also furthered by my vomit volcano of a baby who keeps me covered in partially digested breastmilk most days. Mmmm, nutritious. We're generally both damp and sticky, it's become our natural state of being. This is admittedly gross, and should probably elevate the quest for a shower a little higher up the priority list, but why take the time to hose it all off when you'll just add another coat moments later? Better to use that time for a nap, or a sandwich, or more likely it just gets used up between holding and changing and pumping and feeding and otherwise surviving day by day. It's the same attitude I've always had towards shaving my legs. Shaving is annoying and cumbersome and a lot of times I just don't do it if my legs won't be showing. Especially from, say, November - April. I don't particularly like having fur or looking like a yeti, and it's not some feminist statement, but seriously, who likes to shave? And I figure it's only gross if someone sees it. Since we don't leave the house much, nobody does :)
She's awake now by the way. And just spit milk out her nose.
Being a hermit is also a matter of choice/priorities, and one of my best coping mechanisms. And I really don't mind it much at all. I've heard a lot of stories of moms dying to get out of the house with their little ones...it all seems like way too much work for me. When we leave, there's the juggling of schedule for eating and pumping. There's the luggage - diaper bag, baby carrier, bottles, stroller... My pump if we could be gone longer than 4 hours and all the parts I need with it. Extra clothes for her AND me, since she likes to "share" her food after the first time down her gullet... Trips out of the house really do seem to sack her out (LOVE that carseat), but they also sack ME out, so the benefit is negated a bit. It's so much easier to exist within the walls of my house. I like my house. I have cable, DVDs, radio, and now FINALLY fast Internet. I have her magic swing and laundry available without hauling it around. I've never really been an "outside girl" anyways :)
And as for schizophrenic...happens to the best of us. I engage in conversation with the baby, of course. Most people can understand that. I also engage in conversation with the swing, the lamps, the radio... I swear the rhythmic sound of my pump is a secret language and I hear mechanical words when it's running. I forget things, mostly due to the sleep deprivation, and can rarely tell you what day it is because they're all somewhat the same. When the house is actually quiet and I try to run to the bathroom, or even when someone is watching her and I take a shower, I always think I hear her crying even when she's not. Voices in my head I guess :)
It took me another day to finish this post, because it takes me twice (or 10 times) as long to finish anything these days. In between, I went out with my friends. It went way too fast, and I had to ditch out early to race home and pump, but I made it. And honestly, I didn't even have time to sit and worry about The Cupcake, it all went by to fast. I splurged on two cherry cokes (which I coveted way more than alcohol after almost a year), caught up with some great friends, sat down to eat a meal with both hands at a table, and was completely distracted oogling the sparkly drag queens on stage. I still appreciate sparkles, and I even managed to wear some of my own. I even showered. Maybe I'll only be a part time dirty schizophrenic hermit.
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