Monday, April 04, 2005

Maybe it's all that oxytocin and estrogen pumping through my veins, but I haven't felt very stressed about mommyhood much after that first week or so of struggling with breastfeeding. Christmas doesn't count since that's a stressful time for normal human beings too, not just mommies. But this weekend things started to feel like too much. I was having one of those days Saturday when you want to get something done, except you need to get something else done in order to complete that something, and you can't get that something else done because something #3 is missing, and just when you go to search for something #3 the baby wakes up from her nap and you put her in the high chair and she reaches into her little bowl (while adorably announcing, "bowl! bowl!") and throws applesauce all over something #3, which at least you know know the location of. You know.
And all this was during like, the 3rd or 4th Saturday in a row of Nutmeg's daddy spending all morning working on a project in our basement that all the residents of our building are supposed to be sharing, but that we -- being the only people in the building without the heavy responsibility of pet ownership -- seem to be doing most of. Which means an unscheduled half day of solo parenting for me. Add this to planning a first birthday party that is also a family reunion of sorts, arranging childcare for the first time, trying to get a large package into the paper at work, and little things like, oh, getting the taxes done, and I was feeling a little bit tweaked.

But I have a lovely husband. He let me sleep on the couch last night. You know that you have entered a bizarro world when that's a big priviledge in your life, but this Nutmeg has been waking up three, four or more times a night lately and wanting to nurse. I don't know why. That's another thing that I think about when I'm wandering around the house looking for something #3, forgetting that I had to put it in the dishwasher which I can't run right now because we're out of detergent. Will this go away by itself? Should I be doing something about it? Even the decor in our bedroom/nursery, the two lovely little smocked dresses hanging on the wall, were stressing me out, because they're both a little short on Nutmeg, and they have hems that could be let out, but we don't have a sewing machine, and is that something that can be done by hand? Should I take them to a tailor? How can you properly pin a straight hem on an infant who can't stand up, or certainly can't stand still?
So sleeping on the couch, that was heaven. Nutmeg's Daddy, who I shall henceforth refer to as Epu, gave her a bottle the first few times she woke up, although he did have to come in and hand her to me at about 4 a.m. when the bottle ran out. Still, that's pretty much like sleeping all night. And it gets better. Epu took Nutmeg to the airport with him the next morning to meet up with a friend on a layover, and then the 2 of them went to Target together, and he brought her back sound asleep. While I'm suffering a few guilt twinges for feeling like barely seeing my daughter all Sunday is an awesome weekend, I'll take the guilt, because I actually got a bunch of stuff done, and listened to my book on mp3 while I did it. I even took Nutmeg's booster chair off the kitchen chair it's strapped to and gave it a shower and scrubbed the chair. Ooh, I should have taken a picture of that nasty chair and posted it on

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