I’ve discovered a startling trend to my blog posts: Complete astonishment at how quickly time passes.
Somehow, a whole month has gone by since my last post. Babies, man. Just…Babies.
Of course, this translates into my life in that I constantly feel like time is passing and I’m not taking full advantage of it – and I mean that in every way possible.
Not enough time to blog. Not enough time to take a shower. Not enough time to watch my baby’s nearly constant development and growth. Not enough time to get off the couch and do one of 10,000 checklist items I can think of.
So, as you might guess, the blog doesn’t often come high on that list. But it should. Because it’s something for me. And that brings me to my first lesson in motherhood thus far…
- I am still a person! (and it’s easy to forget sometimes)
So much of yourself goes into being a parent. The days just ebb and flow, running together especially in these early months that throw such a learning curve. My tireless (haha, j/k…very tired) attention toward my darling offspring sometimes distracts me from simple tasks. Understandable.But worse – it often creates a very reasonable-sounding excuse for not jumping back into living my life again.
Leave my house during the day, sans husband to help? Nope – too much hassle. My sanity doesn’t really matter. Why does my stir-crazy self matter when there’s a BABY that needs to be taken care of?
As my sweet friend and fellow new-mom described it: It feels like my life is a little TOO much like the movie Room.
Summertime makes it even harder. Who wants to leave air-conditioning when it’s nearly 100 degrees outside? ESPECIALLY WITH A FRAGILE BABY WITH NEW SKIN AND HEAT SENSITIVITY!? NOTHX.
Fortunately, in the past month or so, I’ve finally been feeling like the baby is a permanent fixture in my life, which makes it easier to get up the gall to do stuff OUTSIDE the house. When she becomes part of me – my identity, my routine, my natural state – taking on mundane tasks seems much less monumental. Turns out I *CAN* go to the store and operate a stroller on my own! Sometimes, it’s okay to leave the baby in a pack and play while I do dishes. Or even write a blog post!
- Breastfeeding is a blessing…And a curse. But mostly a blessing! As I mentioned in my last post, being able to produce breastmilk for my child makes me feel like a superhero.
I really hated my boobs before being a mother. They’re big and annoying and make it hard to wear clothes that I like. My nipples don’t look as pretty as a porn star’s. Plus, one word: GRAVITY.
Now? HOLY SHIT, MY TITS ARE THE BEST!!!
Yes, they still look the same (perhaps even more unwieldy). But I appreciate them for…well, what they are. BREASTS – i.e. I can feed my child with my body. I no longer give any fucks about what they look like, or even who sees them. Because in my mind, they are no longer aesthetic appendages, but rather the source of my newfound bodily confidence and self love!
Breastfeeding Alana has been one of the most spiritual experiences of my life. I’m not a religious person…at all. But the intense bonding that occurs when I feed my child is the closest thing to perfect happiness I have ever felt. It is beautiful. It is intimate. It is natural and amazing…
IT ALSO SUCKS BALLS THAT I’M THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN FEED MY CHILD AT 3 AM. OR…EVER.
This is where the beauty of breastfeeding can become somewhat of a burden. Being able to share the responsibility of nearly constant feedings would be pretty spectacular. Throw some formula in a bottle. Take turns at night. Not have to worry about if I had one too many beers at a social gathering. Yeah, I see the appeal.
||— To be clear: NOTHING wrong with formula feeding, whether by choice or by necessity. I am VERY fortunate to be able to breastfeed without difficulty, which I know can be a heart-wrenching experience for those who cannot. And I don’t judge those who opt for formula. —||
Needless to say…it’s been a very rewarding ability for me, but sometimes, I just wanna have some guilt-free cocktails without wondering if I should pump and dump.
- Babies grow too quickly to be fashionable.
Alana turned 3 months yesterday, but is already getting too big for her 3 month-sized outfits. In the past week or so, this has resulted in me anxiously changing her outfits multiple times a day in hopes that I “get my money’s worth” out of all her stinking cute little rompers and onesies…
That’s a lie. Money doesn’t matter. I’m just lamenting her rapid growth.
NOTE TO SELF: Next time, only buy like, 5 white onesies. Because they grow outta that shit real quick.