It's been eleven weeks since Danny was born, and I was able to write one post. One post about his birth, and I didn't even finish the story! (As a quick attempt: he's healthy, he's happy and he poops once a day.) It sounds so cliché, but having a baby is one of the few absolute excuses one can whip out in life.
"You've stopped calling."
I had a baby.
"You look exhausted!"
I had a baby.
"You ate all the Cheese Balls!"
I. Had. A. Baby!!!
Now I only read about sleep training and tummy time; I consider it a good day if I can manage to make dinner, or leave the house -- or shower. Showering used to be the most mundane thing I did each day, and now I actually look forward to it. Working out was something that I had to get out of the way, and now it feels a bit like luxury time. Did you know that you can watch an entire movie on the treadmill if you time it right? It's the little things.
On Monday, I return to work. After twelve weeks of spending my days with the boy, (and the last six weeks of my pregnancy, watching doctor-prescribed television,) I will shower daily and get in the car before a morning nap of my own. I tried not to think about it all winter. Spring will be here, and then it'll just happen...
Well, now it's spring. Possibly time to get out of the house, Suze.
My parents and Karen's will take turns watching him during the week, so he'll be well-loved and well-coddled, to say the least. I, on the other hand, will have to actually focus on something.
This could prove to be quite an adjustment.
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