Monday, nov. 30, 2009 | 8 comments
So today was my first day back at work since having the baby, and it was kind of anti-climactic. Other than a few quick, sad tears, shed as I walked away from Desi’s nannyshare, it was pretty much business as usual.
I hitched a ride in via Casual Carpool, the ever-changing voyeuristic glimpses of which I’ve actually missed quite a bit — life serves up so many predictable patterns, it’s nice to have something in each day that’s reliably different. I spent an uneventful day at the office, attending meetings, eating lunch out of a box, gathering cooler-side to chat about people’s Thanksgiving weekends, sitting in a darkened room forcefully suctioning milk out of my nipples…the usual. (Newsflash: My breastpump has stopped sounding like a whimpering infant and now seems to be saying “meow, meow” over and over instead? Here, kitty kitty!)
Then I BARTed home, aimed my mouth at some sort of rice-based Trader Joe dinner, took a quick splash of a bath, and played with the baby for an hour. Then we launched into Desi’s latest go-to-sleep ritual, a highly involved routine that features me perching atop a yogaball and leaning up and over into the crib, arms supported by the horrifically named Boppy pillow, and “thumbing” him, i.e., letting him suck my thumb while stroking his forehead with my remaining fingers. (Yes, he still won’t take a pacifier, and yes, we still haven’t hit upon the opportune moment/mustered the emotional fortitude to let him Cry It Out and learn to put his own self to sleep…but soon. Very soon!)
After a half-hour of Desi nodding off, followed by startled jerking, followed by enraged crying, he still wasn’t asleep, but my arm sure was, so Marco took a turn.
Now you’re all caught up! As I type these words — twenty minutes later — Marco is still in there trying to get the baby down, and I’m so insanely tired, I’m actually nodding off at the keyboard.
And that’s how a once-sprightly night owl became one of those boring oldsters who complain about their backs and who somehow fail to notice stray hairs growing out of their chins and who stagger into bed at the unripened hour of 8:30pm. Pow!