This is something I rarely get. But as it is, I happen to have some now. My baby is sleeping and I have no work from which I am procrastinating. My hubs hasn’t quite returned home from work, and the baby will be up soon – too soon for me to enjoy a nap.
I rarely get down time. I read this funny blog the other day of a mom detailing her day with her children. She stays home with them also. I’m surprised she even found the time to write it up. I related to almost all of it – save for the multiple kids part. But you know, that’ll be us soon, enough. (I’m not pregnant, but you know, we are talking about trying again.) It’s just the constant never ending going, going, going. It doesn’t even stop at night. We co-sleep, because that’s what we found worked for us to get us all more sleep. My poor hubs is a light sleeper, so we would all be up with the baby, until we discovered sharing the bed (safely). I get kicked at night, if she’s teething then she wakes more frequently. I know what it’s like to ACTUALLY be hit in the throat – not just someone saying that.
When I get up in the morning, this girl is on the go. She is so her father. She is awake and ready to start the day, while I’m still trying to figure out if it’s 7am or 7pm. She is laughing, running, yelling at the cats. She is climbing and getting into things. I begin the coffee brewing, and then it’s a constant stream of “Get off of there”, “Get out of there”, “Don’t put that in your mouth”, “What’s in your mouth”, “get off the table!”, “don’t hit the cat”, until the coffee is finished. Then I pour a cup and continue with my tirade and chasing her from various places of the house where I don’t want her to be. I don’t want her to be there because I just want to sit in the couch and wake up, and I want her where I can see her so I can sit. She doesn’t get that. She does what she wants.
In between my ranting about getting off and out of things, I’m chasing her and physically removing her from the top of the coffee table, the dining table (that’s a new one, today), chasing the cats, playing in their food. I work from home, so I will pop open my computer to glance at my inbox, and run to grab the toddler from the coffee table again. Then I microwave my coffee because it’s gone cold. Lather, rinse, repeat.
When I have down time, I typically don’t even know what to do with myself, because it’s been so long. Do I paint my toenails, which haven’t seen it in so long, the paint has GROWN out, instead of chip off…? I peruse Facebook and, man. Let me just say, I’m glad the election is over, because, wow people have a lot of energy. But I usually end up stalking my breastfeeding support pages and getting into arguments with moms who let their babies cry it out. (Yep. I’m totally judging. Better just leave my blog.) I mean, I don’t even know what else to do. I never get free time. If I can adult for 20 minutes online, I almost feel productive. Like doing nothing when I have down time is a waste of my downtime. You know, arguing is better, I guess. Whatever. I don’t need to make sense of it. It’ll only last so long anyway.
Today, I wrote this post. And you know what? She just woke up. Time to nurse her and get her ready for dinner. Today is payday. So Chick-Fil-A, here we come!