This week has been a little bit whiny for me. As I mentioned, I haven't exercised quite as much as I would like, and my husband has had some long work days. This makes for one tired momma.
I also have this baby who, despite being adorable and happy 93% of the time, has decided to get four teeth at once and does not like solid food. SERIOUSLY? He's coming up on 8 months old, and despite repeated efforts (cue voices of supportive friends... have you tried banana? avocado? salmon? rice cereal? ... oh... don't stress... 'under one, food is just for fun'!) NOTHING has been interesting to this little dude. Enter stressed out voice in my head that is counting down the months until I return to work. My little is a boob man, whether I like it or not. No bottle, no sippy, no food, just MOM.
After 8 months of not being away from my youngest for more than 4 hours at a time,
I am desperately:
a) CRAVING some time to myself
b) CRAVING more than one drink.
Woe is me.
We really are caught in something interesting in this society, which preaches the benefits and love of breastfeeding for convenience, but fails to acknowledge the toll that it takes on a mom's sanity from time to time. How do you find balance in that? Moms who breastfeed are supposed to sing it loud and proud but during this pregnancy from time to time I've been a little resentful of making this choice and being so tied to my little guy. It inhibits the amount of time I get to spend with my oldest (husband takes oldest, mom takes boob man). I know that there are moms who can't who are probably scowling at me, but it's just my perspective at the moment.
Anyway, the moral of the story is that I stayed up most of the night last night feeding my little man and rewarded myself with some junk food for the extra calories me most likely siphoned off. No guilt there!
I did end the day feeling fairly successful (almost); I managed to get two kids to bed fairly quickly on my own (similar feeling to building a small house all by yourself). I come smugly down the stairs, pretty proud of myself and thinking about what I'm going to do with my approximately 2 hours of free time before next feeding, when a little voice comes from under the door:
"MOM! MOM! I have to go POOP!"
Seriously? WHO HAS TO POOP AT BEDTIME? So I told him no. Not tonight you don't! Now, I KNOW you are mocking me, wondering who says NO to their kid asking to go poop, but you must understand this- he asks to poop EVERY night at bedtime, (and nearly every night we forget to ask him if he has to go). Parenting at it's finest.
Anyway, lucky for me he fell asleep with his face shoved under the door and me denying his request. I don't even feel bad about that.
Most importantly, I have come up with a plan about my feelings on this topic of tied down mama; I am planning some more mini dates for myself. Can't have one whole night away, so I'll go for quantity. Massages, dinners, time to get crafty and waste my life away on Pinterest. Stay tuned for some pretty awesome updates of the 'me time' i'm planning to draft from thin air. I'm welcome to any more fun mini date ideas or anyone who wants to join me!
UPDATE-
I'm kind of proud of myself!
-Fab date night in the backyard under the super moon
-Massage
-Two solo runs
-house seriously neglected (but yay!)
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