It’s been, well, eons since I last wrote.
I’ve been busy.
Busy soaking in these final not-having-to-work moments with my baby girl.
Busy thinking about what it will be like to go back to work.
Busy trying to price out new tires, a new windshield and new insulation for the attic (no, didn’t get in an accident, just need some updates to the ride; yes, still have not gotten insulation in the damn attic).
I have one more day…two more sleeps…until I have to return to work.
To say I’m dreading it is a huge understatement.
Or, more accurately, I’m dreading the threat of having to travel, of the sporadic schedule, of the closet full of work clothes that either a) don’t fit or b) don’t fit the same.
I’ve been trying to get my butt to sit down and update this blog and I’ve had lots of titles float through my head:
“Spontaneous Combustion” about the way I keep bursting into tears at the mere thought of returning to work and being away from my girly girl overnight.
“How do UnSmart People Navigate Health Insurance?” about the journey in trying to decipher the ‘claims summary’ from the insurance or the bills from the hospital.
“Holy Crap It Costs A Lot to Have a Baby!” this not so much in regard to the increase in costs at the grocery store, which there certainly are, but mainly in how much the hospital bills are for actually HAVING the child. I feel like my friend Andy warned me about this when he had his first child…but I didn’t listen, thought I had it figured out what we would owe based on a conversation six months ago with the insurance company…but, no. It costs a LOT. More than it should.
“I Will Not Host Another Party, I Will Not Host Another Party” about the number of parties and people we hosted through our home this holiday season. I even burned myself out on parties (unbelievable, right?). When it was all said and done and the last guest had been counted, we hosted six different parties for about 120 people (some were repeats, but that’s the number of people, total) for an average of about 20 people per party. Yikes. That was a lot of dishes, a lot of food, a lot of cleaning, a lot of post-party pick up and too much hanging over for this new-mom to feel good about.
Anyway, my realization came tonight. We have (ummm, I have) forced us on to a schedule. This goes something like:
8:30/9 a.m.: Awake and a bottle
9 a.m. – 10/11 a.m.: Play – Activity Mat, Sophie the Giraffe, talking with Elle over coffee
10/11 a.m. – 1 p.m.: Nap
12 p.m./1 p.m.: Wake up, bottle
1 p.m. – 3 p.m. (ish): Play
3-5 p.m.(ish): Nap
5/6 p.m.: Wake up, bottle
5:30-8: FUSSY TIME/Play
8 p.m.: Bath routine begins – warm bath in the bathroom, splashing, playing, etc. Towel off, lotion, songs, etc. Book, Bottle, Bed by 9 p.m.
And here it is 9:02 and I’ve succeeded in my semi-schedule. Trying to keep about three hours between bottles and push it a little if we can, but only to end up so that we’re still doing our night-night routine by 8 p.m.
So, then she’ll go to bed. And, unless we lie down with her in our bed to get her into a deep sleep, she wakes up every few hours, if for no other reason than she lost her binky. But, I’m adamant that we really NOT keep allowing her to sleep with us as a general rule. Typically, if I can make it to 5 a.m., I feel like that’s a full night in her own bed and bring her to our bed for another few hours of sleep. But, if I can put an end to that and have her sleep all the way through, I’ll do it.
Anyway, this routine actually happened tonight and I’m writing this blog as a result.
However, as I lamented above, I’m DREADING the return to work. I’ve cried. A lot.
Tonight’s reason for crying was because when Elle fusses, I’m much more proactive in trying to get her to stop than Jon is. He’s a wonderful Dad, but he just handles her fussiness different than I do, despite my appeals that he maybe try a different approach.
Anyway, it occurred to me tonight that he might let her fuss without soothing her to bed, and she might just fall asleep in his arms, fighting the good fight against sleep, and he might let her, and then all my hard work in trying to get on a schedule will be out the window.
But, then it also occurred to me that it’s a LITTLE bit selfish of me to have not thought through how Jon might feel in all this. He has been the ‘oh, it’ll be fine’ voice among my sadness…but has it struck him yet that he will, in reality, be a single parent? He’ll have to do the bedtime routine all by himself. He’ll have to wash the bottles AND fill them AND do any laundry necessary AND make sure that he has everything ready to head out the door in the morning?
Ok, now that I’ve listed all that out, I am going to make a checklist for getting out the door in the morning.
I’m nervous for Jon, but more nervous for myself.
And really, I don’t care that I’m only worrying about how I’m going to handle being away from my baby because, frankly, that’s about as far as I can push myself right now.
Anyway, this was quite an uplifting entry, but maybe this can be part of my routine, too.
For your viewing pleasure, a picture from today.