I love grey days like this. Dark, misty, damp, London-esque days validate my tendency to stay in my bathrobe all day long. They also make me want to drink a tall glass of red wine at 9am and wax poetic in my journal…but those days are in my past now…
So you know the stereotype of women “letting themselves go” after they have a baby? Well, I’m sorry to say I can relate. Yesterday, when Josh got home, he actually asked me if I ever got dressed all day. Nope. And I never put on a bra either. Maternity leave rocks. Why bother? My days don’t follow the clock anymore – they’re just one long blur of intermittent sleep states, so it makes sense to be ready to nap at any given moment.
Speaking of sleep – Dylan gave us five glorious hours last night. Uninterrupted. Hallelujah! I only needed two cups of coffee this morning, instead of the whole pot. But you know what? I still didn’t get out of bed until 8am. I knew Dylan was awake in his cradle, right next to our bed – I could hear him cooing and rustling about – but I just kept re-inserting the pacifier and rocking his cradle with my tired arm dangling off the side of the bed. It was like a Saturday morning when you know you should get up and start your day, but in like five more minutes.
They say the one thing all successful people have in common is that they’re early risers. Guess what? I don’t care. Success for me these days means taking a shower, which truly is a feat of astronomical proportions when you have a newborn at home. It sounds simple enough. I should be able to find 10 minutes in my day when I can wash away the massive amounts of breast milk that has coated my skin and soak up the restorative warmth from the hot steam of a quick shower. But it’s not. This is because my son prefers to be held most of the day. When I can trick him into sleeping in a chair/rocker/crib, because he has first fallen asleep in my arms and I transfer him there without his knowing, it lasts for about five minutes before he realizes he’s no longer snuggling a warm body. If it lasts longer… the catch is that I didn’t know it was going to last that long, so I wasted most of the good sleep time just staring at him and holding my breath. Or, if I think he might be in a deep sleep, sometimes staring blankly into space can be preferable to doing anything at all. Especially on grey, rainy days like this.