Category Archives: Nesting

Reframing

Back at work and beginning to realized I’m going to need to seriously reframe the way that I look at my home time. Before, I looked at chores not as something that I enjoyed doing, but something that I needed to get done before I could enjoy other things. I couldn’t sit down to read a book unless I’d loaded the dishwasher, moved the laundry, tidied up a bit, things like that.

Last night, I got home from a grad school class that ran extra late around 9:30. I hadn’t pumped since 5pm, so I needed to get that set up. Before seeing myself as “unavailable” and hooked up to a breast pump for 30 minutes, I washed some dishes, started a load of laundry, took out the trash. Mostly because they needed to get done (the laundry was baby girl’s cloth diapers and she was out of clean diaper shells), but also because if I didn’t, the knowledge that I hadn’t was going to dig away at me while I pumped, like an itch I couldn’t reach. I’ve been that way since forever. I can’t sit and read on the weekends without thinking about what I have to do – I’ll typically get them done and then let myself enjoy free time. (Though, unrelatedly, free time is about to vanish)

It’s not the same with a baby. I mean, of course, no shit, right? But something about sitting on the couch, playing with a baby or rocking her in the rock ‘n’ play… in my weird brain, it feels like wasting time. Like I should be accomplishing those household tasks that are yelling at me from the edges of my brain to get accomplished. Go make some burritos for lunch this week, go clean off the counter, go take out the trash, etc… Don’t be present. Don’t make your baby walk on your stomach, don’t sing to her, go do your work.

That’s not OK for me. That not how I want to be with her, that she’s an afterthought, that I get to enjoy once chores are done. And yes, you can plop the baby in the carrier and do some work, but only if the work can be done with T-Rex arms and doesn’t involve reaching across yourself or bending over.┬áThese days are precious and fast, even when they feel tedious and slow. This is even more important now that I’m back at work (ugh). I need to make keep myself present and engaged and remind myself that the things I “need” to do… I just want to get them out of the way, but doing so is prioritizing them over the baby.

And, you know, there’s plenty of time to do the dishes when the baby’s asleep.

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OMG, Friday

My due date is Friday. There is every expectation that I’m going to be late, first time mom and all. But seriously, any time now. Any time. OMG.

Regardless of baby, I also stop working after Friday, and honestly, I am so relieved. Things are super busy, I’m training my replacement and I don’t have enough hours in the day right now. I’m cleaning major tasks off my plate, but it’s a lot. The idea of being able to be home, sleep 10 hours, walk the dog whenever, take a nap, make more burritos (… we may have dipped into the freezer stash a bit…), god damn, it’s a relief.

Baby’s room is nearly done, though the crib is more storage than anything else. I’ve told the wife I won’t go into labor until the room is finished. I’ll post pictures when it is. The wife has done some serious work on it and it’s beautiful (she thinks it’s the best decorated room in the house… and she might be right!). She probably won’t even sleep there for the first 3 months (we have a bassinet I’m keeping next to our bed, the closest compromise we have for co-sleeping), but knowing that it’s done, that I can duck in there at 3am and feed the baby while rocking on the glider… it’s going to be a huge relief.

So, basically, right now, I am Jessie Spano.

But, you know, without the need to go to rehab. And if I wasn’t a little scared, frankly, I should be. We’re bringing a people into the world. There’s no takebacks, no undo button, no reset. This is huge (but also she’s going to be very tiny!). I can’t wait and I’m terrified I’m going to screw it up tremendously. You know, the way every new parent feels, except for the part where I am an incredibly unique individual and my experiences are different from everyone else’s.