It was one of those mornings… You know those mornings when you wake up feeling just as tired as you did when going to bed? I’ve had many of those over the past year (comes with the territory; motherhood and what not) but today’s the kind of morning when I wish I had a coffee guzzler helmet; one that would hold mugs of coffee so I get coffee on tap as I go about doing my stuff…. The little one spent all of yesterday being super clingy and not letting anyone other than me so much as touch her, which means I was super tired when I went to bed yesterday night. As if that was not enough, she kept waking every 15 mins throughout the night to nurse to sleep while fighting off a fever (I hate you MMR vaccines!) which explains why I feel, well, so sucky today. This is just the kind of morning when I am ready to simply call it a day and sink in the hot bath tub with a glass of wine in my hand and a book to drown myself in, except A) It is 9am in the morning, B) I don’t own a bath tub, and C) I don’t drink wine because I am still breastfeeding and the baby has no set routine, so that’s out of the question. I tell myself I will make do with a long hot shower and a heavy breakfast, except the shower is cut short by tiny hands banging on the bathroom door and a continuous “Mamma! MAMMA! MAMMAAAAAAA!” that starts with a whine (that I ignore) but ends in a heart wrenching full blown cry (that I can’t ignore) The “heavy” breakfast, which in reality is two slices of heated up leftover pizza, is eaten with one hand while balancing the baby on my hip. The baby kept trying to shove a toothbrush in my mouth while holding my shoulder in a death grip should someone try to take her away from me.
It doesn’t help that it is on days like this that I feel like what I call my “emotion organizer” is all muddled up. I mean, normally my mind is pretty organized when it comes to emotions, alright? I know where I keep my tiredness, my anxiety, my frustrations, my on-the-verge-of-tears helplessness, my infinite love, my fears and the whole spectrum that makes up who I am. But on these days, all the tiny sections in that organizer collapse into each other, and all the emotions, sometimes even the conflicting ones, get mushed up until I am nothing but a walking talking emotional junkyard.
But. And a big but.
I don’t call myself a rock star just like that, and I still believe I am, flabby belly crazy messy hair and all. So I told myself it IS a long way to the top if you wanna rock and roll, decided to stick it to the man and seized the day. Strapped the baby to the hip (insert compelling ad for the new Ergo 360 carrier), armed myself with snacks for the baby and went out for a walk, humming this song all the while. Come to think of it, motherhood is a little like rock n’ roll, if the ACDC are to be believed, and I do. And really, when has easy ever been exciting? Hell, I love challenges, and at this point, going on five nights of little to no sleep, I can’t think of anything more challenging than motherhood.
It gets a little intense you know, if I start thinking about how in these 13 months, I have been away from my baby for all of 6 times (three of which were when she was a newborn and each time I’d been away for 15 mins tops) I have almost forgotten how the world looks like after dark and how the streets look lit up with cars flashing red and yellow lights or how inviting the stores look every evening with their bright shiny interiors. Because baby girl sleeps early, once she is in bed, I am stuck inside the house, with my ears almost cocked like a guard dog, anticipating the moment when she wakes up demanding my immediate attention. I listen with jealous amazement when other moms talk about going out with friends for brunch or shopping without the baby, because with the way things are right now, that seems like a far fetched dream for me. But then again, I remind myself, I will stick it to the man. I will accept the challenge head on. Whether or not it is worth it is honestly, irrelevant. For all I know, despite this superlative attachment at this time, she might end up hating me as a teenager and yelling “You don’t understand me!” all the same. But what I will have gained, or in rock n’ roll terms, what will be my “top” is knowing I gave this thing crazy thing called motherhood, my everything, and nothing less.
Even if it means I have to watch the Uptown Funk video (her latest craze!) again and again and again and it takes me over a day to complete a post that I started writing in the morning and I am *this* close to slumping in the corner and ugly crying, knowing very well tonight’s going to be yet another sleepless night. Oh well, wish me luck.