The boychik is in his car seat still and a sense of extreme urgency has gripped my ridiculous mind. His car seat is pushed up against the dryer which is running needlessly, in order to create the white noise and vibrations that I hope will render him sleepy for a few more precious moments. I am facing the new mommy problem of seriously needing some me time. I have been operating primarily according to my newborn's wishes for six weeks now and my need to exercise, write anything, knit, etc., has been over ridden.
Don't let my kvetching throw you off. I am, obviously, in complete, mind-numbing love with my child, but
I've hit the wall most moms know of and snicker about. I can't help it sometimes; I am at my most sarcastic and clever when I'm complaining and letting rip a page full of good whining is a kind of therapy that must not be over looked. In that vein, let me share the phrase that I cleverly thought of a few days ago and have since not been able to get out of my mental goo: I am a chair full of milk.
That's essentially how my dark, needy self feels. And she cohabitates with my light, generous self too. It's fast changing weather system inside each of us. The boy is stirring. He seems plagued by something, I think it's a growth spurt. I had to take us both on a long drive today because his seemingly endless wailing this morning was really putting a kink into what I thought this day would look like. I'm pretty good at accepting change, unless of course I'm not. And ice cream helps. Unless you drink all four scoops of Kahlua and cream that went into making the milkshake you purchased to soothe your woefully crabby inner self, then it goes beyond helping and into mild tummy ache.
But hey, here I am world. I'm in love and love is not easy. Neither, I'm told, is parenting. He's smiling while awake more frequently now, but not on cue nor for long enough for me to capture it on film. And he's growing fast as can be, which is why I'm off to scoop him up and nuzzle him up to his breast friends and let my body catch him into it's soft, milky arms.