Wow, when I finally have the time to update I can’t think of a damn thing to say. My life is not anecdotal, which makes me truly terrible at this craft. My life is more like this:
I get up and take a shower. By the time I get out, Olivia is crying in her crib, which is taxing to the brain at 5:50 a.m. I rescue her, cuddle her, put her into her exersaucer, and try to keep her entertained while I get ready. By 6:45 I’m on the road, trying to ignore the fact that I’m going 10 mph and listening to my iPod or the Mike Barnicle morning show on 96.9. At work, I work. I’ve been doing the same job for 3 years and know what I’m doing. Sometimes being around my coworkers can be exhausting. The drive home is longer than the drive there, since I never get to leave on time and every five extra minutes I spend in the office translates to an extra ten minutes on the road. Jay Severin complains about Hillary Clinton and “crimaliens” as I drive. I go to my parents’ house to get Olivia and think how I can’t believe I’m back in this town every day, back at this house. Sometimes I pick up a coconut iced coffee on my way so I won’t be tempted to snack when I get home, since going to the gym is more or less out of the question. I carry Olivia plus the baby bag, my purse, and sometimes my laptop bag up the stairs and dump everything on the dining room table. Then I am torn between playing with Olivia and taking care of things: making formula, taking something out for dinner, getting undressed, repacking Olivia’s bag for tomorrow. I never decompress, just move on to a different mental checklist. Joe gets home at 6:45 feeling the same way and complains about his day. Olivia is ready to have her last bottle by 7:15 and goes to bed by 7:45. It’s late to make dinner. We never know what to have. TV usually sucks. I go to bed and read, and I’m asleep by 10:30.
But that’s life, right? I suppose I need a hobby.
I get up and take a shower. By the time I get out, Olivia is crying in her crib, which is taxing to the brain at 5:50 a.m. I rescue her, cuddle her, put her into her exersaucer, and try to keep her entertained while I get ready. By 6:45 I’m on the road, trying to ignore the fact that I’m going 10 mph and listening to my iPod or the Mike Barnicle morning show on 96.9. At work, I work. I’ve been doing the same job for 3 years and know what I’m doing. Sometimes being around my coworkers can be exhausting. The drive home is longer than the drive there, since I never get to leave on time and every five extra minutes I spend in the office translates to an extra ten minutes on the road. Jay Severin complains about Hillary Clinton and “crimaliens” as I drive. I go to my parents’ house to get Olivia and think how I can’t believe I’m back in this town every day, back at this house. Sometimes I pick up a coconut iced coffee on my way so I won’t be tempted to snack when I get home, since going to the gym is more or less out of the question. I carry Olivia plus the baby bag, my purse, and sometimes my laptop bag up the stairs and dump everything on the dining room table. Then I am torn between playing with Olivia and taking care of things: making formula, taking something out for dinner, getting undressed, repacking Olivia’s bag for tomorrow. I never decompress, just move on to a different mental checklist. Joe gets home at 6:45 feeling the same way and complains about his day. Olivia is ready to have her last bottle by 7:15 and goes to bed by 7:45. It’s late to make dinner. We never know what to have. TV usually sucks. I go to bed and read, and I’m asleep by 10:30.
But that’s life, right? I suppose I need a hobby.
7 Comments:
And you make it all look so easy! Maybe you and Joe need an evening ritual that will help you both decompress and spend time with Olivia - maybe a walk around the block with the stroller. Maybe sitting in the backyard with the exersaucer. I'm harried just reading about it all! And impressed beyond belief.
And maybe you can have duplicate baby bags to tag-team off every other day, or a supply of things at your mom's house so you only have to repack once a week? I know nothing about children, so feel free to tell me to stick it.
Whatcha need a hobby for, you got a baby. You'd rather be sewing? Make a great person or make a frickin picture like our grandma?... Hmmmm! I don't get it. Why not invest your time in the baby instead of yourself? Who's more important right now? Ask the inner-yuppie within yourself.
Hup strikes again??
I'm so lost- who are you from mu?
I know, all that time wasted on myself, commuting and working and sleeping, really cuts into our Mommy and Me schedule. And how do we have the same grandma?
Who am I from mu? Who are you from mu?
What the hell is happening in here? Who are these people? I confronted hup about it, and it's not him. He might be rude, but at least he is blunt and makes sense when he posts. :)
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