My new life
After Ess was born, I kept waiting for everything to change. It's some kind of universal truth that having kids changes your life completely, right? So I kept waiting to wake up one morning and, Gregor Samsa-like, find myself a completely different creature (though, I hoped, not a cockroach).
Instead, I still fritter away time on teh Internets, reading blogs when I should be writing on my own, or doing dishes, or talking to D. I still love to cook, love to gossip, love to make connections between friends. I'm still snarky and opinionated and overly responsible. It's just that now all that revolves around Ess.
I don't know what, exactly, I thought would happen -- that I'd suddenly be the recipient of the Secret Book of Maternal Wisdom, or that I would have a newfound patience for things -- even sweet little eight-pound darlings -- that get in the way of my getting things done.
True, some things are vastly different now. While my days are full, I can't exactly say they're busy. I watch a lot more daytime TV than I ever dreamed possible (haven't drifted to the soaps yet, but the TV does stay permanently tuned to TLC). And, as the mom of a friend wrote in a touching card to us, when someone asks how I'm doing, the answer depends on how Ess is that day.
I'm not sure I'm saying anything here that the rest of you parents don't already know. But in this rare moment of solitude, while D and Ess sit in the yard with the pooches, he working on the crossword, she sleeping in her carseat, I wanted to get down in words something about the imperceptible ways in which nothing has changed, and so much has. How I long for a few hours without Ess attached to my breast, yet am thrilled to see her chubby little cheeks when I wake up in the morning (and, less cheerfully, every three hours prior to morning). How my exhaustion last night tempted me to smack her little hands as they flailed in my face while she slept, and yet I can talk of little other than her poop, or her little burbles of pleasure, or the trials and tribulations of our breastfeeding adventure.
This is yet another post without a real ending. I'd like to blame that on my lack of sleep and general fuzzy headed-ness, but the truth is that I've never been good at conclusions.
Instead, I still fritter away time on teh Internets, reading blogs when I should be writing on my own, or doing dishes, or talking to D. I still love to cook, love to gossip, love to make connections between friends. I'm still snarky and opinionated and overly responsible. It's just that now all that revolves around Ess.
I don't know what, exactly, I thought would happen -- that I'd suddenly be the recipient of the Secret Book of Maternal Wisdom, or that I would have a newfound patience for things -- even sweet little eight-pound darlings -- that get in the way of my getting things done.
True, some things are vastly different now. While my days are full, I can't exactly say they're busy. I watch a lot more daytime TV than I ever dreamed possible (haven't drifted to the soaps yet, but the TV does stay permanently tuned to TLC). And, as the mom of a friend wrote in a touching card to us, when someone asks how I'm doing, the answer depends on how Ess is that day.
I'm not sure I'm saying anything here that the rest of you parents don't already know. But in this rare moment of solitude, while D and Ess sit in the yard with the pooches, he working on the crossword, she sleeping in her carseat, I wanted to get down in words something about the imperceptible ways in which nothing has changed, and so much has. How I long for a few hours without Ess attached to my breast, yet am thrilled to see her chubby little cheeks when I wake up in the morning (and, less cheerfully, every three hours prior to morning). How my exhaustion last night tempted me to smack her little hands as they flailed in my face while she slept, and yet I can talk of little other than her poop, or her little burbles of pleasure, or the trials and tribulations of our breastfeeding adventure.
This is yet another post without a real ending. I'd like to blame that on my lack of sleep and general fuzzy headed-ness, but the truth is that I've never been good at conclusions.
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