Lost in motherhood

Me and My Beautiful Baby Boy

My current life consists of diaper changing, breast feeding, and comforting a cranky infant. Alright, alright, it also includes baby coos, sweet smiles and nuzzles from an extremely cute two month old boy. So why can I only focus on what I can’t get done? How about I give you a little sample? I am now lousy at responding to my friends emails. I forget to RSVP to important events in my friends lives. I didn’t know my girlfriend had stopped working in October. I forgot to pay the mortgage, don’t worry they aren’t going to foreclose on my house, but I now lack the time to get the bill paid…and I use bill pay, so technically it is a click of the button. How is it possible that I haven’t done it yet? I honestly don’t know. These are just the trivial things I haven’t gotten to, and don’t get me started on my career that is also currently on hold with no definite time frame of when I am going back.


As I am feeling all consumed in motherhood, my husband is traveling for business today and I have to admit I am a little jealous. As he prepares to take off on his flight home, he calls to tell me he is on the plane. I tell him about my day, or lack of day because I can’t list anything I have done. He says he understands. How can he? He had an important meeting; I wiped spit up off my shirt. He is sitting in first class where someone is going to serve him a drink and a meal. I am trying to decide what I can feed my sick nine year old that A) won’t make her throw up and B) Is something that we actually have in the pantry,  because the thought of packing up two kids (1 sick and 1 infant) to go to the store seems like a nightmare.
Oh, the thought of someone offering me a beverage sounds like heaven. But more than that, I long for the three to four hours of alone time that the plane ride would provide. I could close my eyes and take in the silence. I could go use the bathroom without a child crying or interrupting me for a snack. I could read my book that is sitting on my nightstand collecting dust. Or maybe I could write the thank you notes for the baby gifts we received since having our son two months ago. How horrible is it that in my fantasy of alone time in a germ infested airplane I am still trying to accomplish something?
My thoughts of alone time have now been shattered by my son exploding his diaper with poop. Of course he smiles because he is so proud of himself for what he has accomplished. I smile because his smile is infectious and I am now off to give him a bath. I put the thank cards that await me out of my mind. I focus on him and the fact that someday I am going to want this day back and I better enjoy it while I have it. Oh the joy of motherhood.

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