Just a couple weeks ago I posted about how my newborn caused life to slow down. Who was I kidding? That was then and this is now. Since my husband’s paternity leave ended and I’ve been home with the baby by myself, things have stayed slow (I can only move so fast with a baby in my arms or not at all if he’s nursing). But once his eyelids get heavy, my mind starts to race with all the things I have to get done while he sleeps for an hour. Only after he’s safely positioned in his bed can I start running around like a crazy woman against the clock.
Take a shower, blow dry my hair, eat breakfast, make the bed, start the laundry, write thank you notes, check medical bills, take the dogs out: just the beginning of my never ending to-do list. Every day there is something more to do. I know that some of these things can be done while the baby is awake but he still commands my entire attention. I haven’t hit the motherhood wall where I feel okay with setting him down in the rocker while I run around but I’m getting there.
Until then, I find myself getting anxious for the little guy to pass out so I can get some “work” done. The rush has returned to my life. I admire all the stay at home moms who feel this way all day, every day. When my husband gets home and notices that I didn’t even find time to put away the clothes sitting in the dryer since last night, I feel like a failure. The day flies by as I feed, change and comfort Leigh over and over again. There isn’t enough free time for me to do everything on my list. I never realized how many tasks require two hands!
“The days go slow but the years go fast.”
I hear voices telling me I should sleep while the baby sleeps but there’s no way I could do that. Nothing would get done! I also have way too much energy building up from my postpartum hormones. I struggle to slow things back down when there is so much to do. Without my husband home, I’m the only one who is going to wash the dishes or sweep the floors. I look forward to the weekend when he is home with us.
On a dark spring morning, I laid in bed with Leigh asleep on the Boppy pillow resting on my lap, dog snoring between my legs. I usually slip the baby off of me and run to get a quick shower. Instead, I stayed in bed. Eric already at work, I was alone for the day until he returned at 6pm. No plans on the books. Why did I need to spend this precious moment rushing to shower so I could get ready for no reason? I had all day to do that. So I sat in bed admiring the green lawn shining brightly despite the overcast clouds. My son breathing deeply, little hands moving in his sleep. This is where I’m supposed to be. Sometimes life can wait. Other times, I’ve got to return to the rush.