Like an Old Pair of Jeans
I'm all about being the best mom you can be. But in the first few weeks? Just survive. Sleep when you can. Shower (if you can). Eat (really, don't forget to eat). And sleep some more if you can. If you can't--let someone else hold the baby for a while so you can run to the restroom. Or even drink a tea (coffee, martini, whatever your fancy) with two hands. Now as a mom of two, having two hands to yourself? Well, it is almost never heard of (this post for instance, is being typed with one hand).
Now in week 3 of The Peanuts life (and like week 242 weeks of The Kiddo's life)--well I almost feel like a seasoned Mom. Or at least one that isn't such a nervous wreck that she thinks that the entire world will judge her as a terrible mom (or one that doesn't care if they do). I go throughout my day managing two children, crying diaper changes, spit up pools on my shoulder, swiped along my cargo pants, and 3-day unwashed hair. All with some amount of grace--at least as much grace as one can muster on about 4 hours of sleep (only maybe 2 hour continuous). But my greatest success this week?
Pants. I can fit in my jeans again. Granted they are my larger sized jeans, but they are jeans nonetheless. And I can't beat the feeling. Not even if The Peanut slept through the night! And riding that wave, I've cleaned my closet of all my ill fitting clothes. Gotten rid of all the out-dated sweaters. Shirts I will never wear again, and shoes that were from at least three seasons ago. And, at the moment, I feel like a new woman. Or at least one that had a full hour of non-kid time (since both decided to take quick naps for me). And that? Well, it reminds me of my old skin. And like an old pair of jeans, it fit perfectly.
Now in week 3 of The Peanuts life (and like week 242 weeks of The Kiddo's life)--well I almost feel like a seasoned Mom. Or at least one that isn't such a nervous wreck that she thinks that the entire world will judge her as a terrible mom (or one that doesn't care if they do). I go throughout my day managing two children, crying diaper changes, spit up pools on my shoulder, swiped along my cargo pants, and 3-day unwashed hair. All with some amount of grace--at least as much grace as one can muster on about 4 hours of sleep (only maybe 2 hour continuous). But my greatest success this week?
Pants. I can fit in my jeans again. Granted they are my larger sized jeans, but they are jeans nonetheless. And I can't beat the feeling. Not even if The Peanut slept through the night! And riding that wave, I've cleaned my closet of all my ill fitting clothes. Gotten rid of all the out-dated sweaters. Shirts I will never wear again, and shoes that were from at least three seasons ago. And, at the moment, I feel like a new woman. Or at least one that had a full hour of non-kid time (since both decided to take quick naps for me). And that? Well, it reminds me of my old skin. And like an old pair of jeans, it fit perfectly.
