Day 3

I hit a wall today, the day three post-paternity leave wall. I woke up intent on moving forward, keeping up with all of my lists and check marks. Empty the dishwasher. Check. Fold the laundry. Check. Finish bio and blerb for involvement with nonprofit. Check. Nurse the baby. Check. Drink more water. Check. Make the lunches, reload the dishwasher, attempt an adult conversation with Jim, empty the dishwasher, call the plumber, reload the dishwasher and on and on. Check.

Pretty much.

Pretty much.

But instead, today, I woke up and admitted to myself that I am still sick. Six weeks after coming down with a “small cold” I am unequivocally still sick no matter how much more water I drink. I know I won’t be sick forever, but for right now I’m tired of feeling run down on top of the run down I expected to be feeling being up half the night nursing a newborn. 

And I’m sad. I’m sad because I miss Jim. Ten weeks went too fast, but even that isn’t really true because a year would have flown by because being with Jim just makes everything better. As soon as that thought flies through my brain, all I can think about is how privileged we are to have been able to take ten week to be together that way and how many families have two working parents and they are lucky if they can scrape together a way for one of them to take six weeks to be home with a new baby. And then I’m sadder. Saddest. Most sad. 

So today, after being a full ten minutes late to Olivia’s school pick up because I had left enough time for one unexpected thing but not the three unexpected things that happened: Penny’s low blood sugar, Henry’s potty miss (did I mention I’m potty training a two year old?), and Jack’s diaper blow out), I came home and gave everyone a screen. Except Jack. I gave Jack a boob, but everybody else got a screen. You get a screen. You get a screen. You get a screen. You know, like the queen of the universe Oprah. (Don't run Oprah. We don't deserve you.)

So I hit a wall. I sat down in front of it, gave it an ipad, whipped out a boob, and decided to try again tomorrow. 

Good night wall. See you tomorrow. I’m sure you’ve got a door in ya somewhere. 

Except, I’m pretty sure they are still going to expect dinner. They always expect dinner.