I remember days before all this motherhood stuff when I used to get to do things. Like, take naps. And drink wine at lunch. And wake up at noon. And skip laundry because there wasn’t any baby puke all over it. I remember times when I could sit down and watch an episode of “Dexter” without having to pause 15 times to get a bottle or rinse of a pacifier or change a diaper.
I’ve been feeling…in a rut. My days, although fulfilling in ways I never could have imagined, have become sort of monotonous. I sleep until I am awoken, not by an alarm, but by the whimper of a hungry baby. I shower only when MB is free to give me the 20 minutes of peace to do so. I leave the house to run errands but not without a giant diaper bag and massive stroller. I’m stressed in a way that I can’t even explain. Before baby, stress was brought about by too many things on my plate. By having to be too many places at once. By never having enough time. And it is almost the same now, but in some sort of weird way, I miss the time when stress came from having two parties to attend in one night. Or because I wasn’t sure I would be able to make it to happy hour on time because my hair appointment was taking a bit longer than expected.
Can I remember my last hair appointment? Sort of.
We’ve moved so far away from the world I am used to that my social life involves talking to a four-month-old about what an idiot Mitt Romney is. And though she is becoming a hell of a conversationalist, I can’t really decipher her political belief system yet.
There are those moments when I just want a break. Like one where no one wakes me up. Or asks me about feeding schedules. I want to drink beer on a patio somewhere. I want to feel free for a moment.
I’m holding tight to the idea that in just a few days, we will be on vacation. That I might get a few moments, unchained. To drink beer. maybe even on a patio somewhere. But I worry that, even on vacation, I will feel exhausted. Tied down. Alone.
I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy every second of time with Baby L. Or that I don’t cherish every little thing she does. I really do. Because she is the best thing ever. But I’m tired, you guys.
And mommy needs a patio.