So much for Man in the Mirror being in my head. Now it's "I'll Be There":
just look over your shoulder, honey! He was a talented, but deeply disturbed man. I pray he's now found peace, and that his alleged victims have as well.
I have more vacation days than @, and mine are all use-it-or-lose-it. This summer, as I've done the last several summers, I burn off the last few days by taking a string of Fridays off. Three day weekends are kind of nice.
This summer, I'm looking forward to spending them with my baby girl. My husband and the daycare provider both cluck their tongues and say how nice it must be to have a day to myself. I'm not there yet. I want to be with her. I don't want to waste a day off by sending her to daycare so I can do my own thing. I won't lie and say it wasn't awesome last week when my best friend came up to watch the baby all day while I did household chores. Still, I want to spend these hours with her. That'll change soon enough, I suppose.
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As if by magic
Songs that have recently popped into my head unbidden and will not leave:
Man in the Mirror
Do Wah Ditty (yeah, that's really the name of the song... color me surprised)
and I can't think of the third one because Man in the Mirror is back on top.
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You know what's not funny? The button on my brand new shirt that keeps popping open.
I gained a reasonable amount of weight with the baby. And given that she was a sizeable newborn - 9 lbs, people! - I lost a lot of it early on. At two months post-partum, I breathed that deep sigh of relief that a woman who lives in yoga pants breathes when she can finally wedge herself back into her pre-pregnancy jeans. At three months, I had officially dipped below my pre-pregnancy weight.
It's creeping back up on me. I'm up another five pounds. That in itself is a nuisance, but what's really upsetting is realizing that the weight is
not where I left it! I'm carrying a ridiculous layer of fat around the midsection and my boobs are popping out of my shirts.
I'm still wearing maternity clothes to work, y'all.I bought two or three shirts for work in order to keep myself from looking utterly ridiculous at the office. Unfortunately, one of them - a cute lime green number with ruffles - has popped five times already today.
Given this opportunity to rethink my general lack of style, I hired a wardrobe consultant to help me sift through my clothes. Well, I hired. In the last week or so, guilt over my lumpen form and anxiety over the cost prompted me to cancel the appointment.
Would that yoga pants were acceptable work attire.
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Not enough hours
Most days, I feel like I've got a good grip on the baby thing. Not that there aren't little freak-out moments - I'm still the same neurotic mess I was pre-baby. But I've got this.
What I don't got is a lot of time for my stuff. Part of that is just that Mo is an infant. (Where's the newborn/infant dividing line? Is she a newborn for the first three months? Six? Year?) We wake up, nurse, play for a few minutes before she's bundled off to daycare. In the evening, she comes home, we nurse, play for a few minutes, bathe if it's Bath Night, and then do our going-to-bed routine. After she's asleep, I wash bottle parts and pump parts, pump one more time, wash those parts (I could stick them in the dishwasher, but between the two of us, we only generate a full load every other day). I might tackle at least one household task - laundry, catching up on the hill of filing still left from my maternity leave, wipe a toilet, sweep a floor.
If I'm lucky, I might be able to watch a movie with @, though he's a little put out because he can't watch the super-loud stuff for fear of waking the baby. If I'm *really* lucky, I might be able to convince him to curl up in bed with me for five minutes before he decides that he has better things to do.
Sigh.I keep meaning to start taking pictures again. The baby was supposed to be great for practicing portraiture because I'd have easy access to a model. Yeah, no. It doesn't work like that. Taking care of her needs takes precedence, of course. And setting up equipment takes too long and/or doesn't work given that we still haven't cleared all the clutter created by squeezing one more person into our IKEA-showcase-sized home.
I'll get back to it someday. Maybe in a few months when she's walking. Yeah. Because a newly mobile baby and a light stand seem like a great combination...
Labels: Baby makes three
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