I think this once-a-day-posting would go better if I stopped trying to do it at 11:30 at night. I'm boring myself. This week I'm going to do my Christmas list, but I want to do it justice, and I just don't have the time right now.
So I'm going to do a couple of truths about me, since everyone else was doing that one too - although, Kathy, if you're reading this, I'm still disappointed with yours. I need a secret, I want to find out something new about you. This means I need to share something new about me, I suppose:
I have an incredible mind for numbers. Not mathematics, please don't get confused. I can tell you hundreds of numbers off the top of my head, and I find them very easy to memorize. Since Bella has been born, I can tell you by heart, her care card number, the phone numbers for both of her pediatricians, the pharmacy, the travel assistance line I need to call when filling out my ferry forms, the identification numbers of both her referring and attending physicians. I know my phone numbers from when I was a kid, and given how many times I've moved, that's a lot of phone numbers. I know my library card number by heart. It's weird, they just stick in there. I'm a little bit the same way with song lyrics, but can't ever remember the artist. Ever.
I hate, passionately, my post-pregnancy body. I don't look like me anymore, and with everything else that's going on, it's exhausting to think about diet and trying to fit in some sort of exercise regimen. In no way do I blame Bella for this, and if you had asked me a year ago, when we were trying and it wasn't happening if I wanted to forfeit the way I looked for a baby, I would have taken it in an instant, no hesitation. It's not like I was so smoking hot before. She was absolutely worth it. And I know it's only been just under three months. I know. I happened to get pregnant at my heaviest weight ever, so even though most of the baby weight is gone, I still don't like what's in the mirror. Being a mom makes me feel like the least sexy thing on the planet sometimes. Sexy like tube socks and flannel jammies and unshaven legs. I feel like after being a mom, I have no energy left for being anything else. Not a wife, not a very great friend or daughter or sister. I don't journal, I don't do almost anything that doesn't revolve around Bella. And I love her, I love being her mom more than I love anything else about me, but I would like to have a clean house, smooth shaved legs, a coffee and my journal with my music on and take a minute to myself. I don't do that ever anymore. I got a $75 gift certificate to a very beautiful spa nearby, and Peter even said he'd top it up for me so I could get a few things done, and I have no clue whatsoever when I'll use it. I know it'll get better, and easier, and I'll work a little harder to lose the extra 30 pounds I'm now lugging around, but I wish that day was tomorrow. I don't want to hear that I need to take some "me time". I need to get past the doctors and medication and exhaustion to where me time is even the most remote of options. Then, I could leave Bella alone for a day with no guilt or separation anxiety and go to the spa. I could really, really use a makeover. I feel a little like that woman in the commercials, all overweight and frumpy and going to the lost and found looking for herself. Have you seen me? I used to be funny and silly and not so worried. I used to look hot in a cocktail dress. And this conveyor belt rolls out and she finds herself and rushes up to give herself a big hug? I could use to find that lost and found.
Well, there you have it. Nothing too earth shattering, but two truths is all I have the energy for tonight.
So I'm going to do a couple of truths about me, since everyone else was doing that one too - although, Kathy, if you're reading this, I'm still disappointed with yours. I need a secret, I want to find out something new about you. This means I need to share something new about me, I suppose:
I have an incredible mind for numbers. Not mathematics, please don't get confused. I can tell you hundreds of numbers off the top of my head, and I find them very easy to memorize. Since Bella has been born, I can tell you by heart, her care card number, the phone numbers for both of her pediatricians, the pharmacy, the travel assistance line I need to call when filling out my ferry forms, the identification numbers of both her referring and attending physicians. I know my phone numbers from when I was a kid, and given how many times I've moved, that's a lot of phone numbers. I know my library card number by heart. It's weird, they just stick in there. I'm a little bit the same way with song lyrics, but can't ever remember the artist. Ever.
I hate, passionately, my post-pregnancy body. I don't look like me anymore, and with everything else that's going on, it's exhausting to think about diet and trying to fit in some sort of exercise regimen. In no way do I blame Bella for this, and if you had asked me a year ago, when we were trying and it wasn't happening if I wanted to forfeit the way I looked for a baby, I would have taken it in an instant, no hesitation. It's not like I was so smoking hot before. She was absolutely worth it. And I know it's only been just under three months. I know. I happened to get pregnant at my heaviest weight ever, so even though most of the baby weight is gone, I still don't like what's in the mirror. Being a mom makes me feel like the least sexy thing on the planet sometimes. Sexy like tube socks and flannel jammies and unshaven legs. I feel like after being a mom, I have no energy left for being anything else. Not a wife, not a very great friend or daughter or sister. I don't journal, I don't do almost anything that doesn't revolve around Bella. And I love her, I love being her mom more than I love anything else about me, but I would like to have a clean house, smooth shaved legs, a coffee and my journal with my music on and take a minute to myself. I don't do that ever anymore. I got a $75 gift certificate to a very beautiful spa nearby, and Peter even said he'd top it up for me so I could get a few things done, and I have no clue whatsoever when I'll use it. I know it'll get better, and easier, and I'll work a little harder to lose the extra 30 pounds I'm now lugging around, but I wish that day was tomorrow. I don't want to hear that I need to take some "me time". I need to get past the doctors and medication and exhaustion to where me time is even the most remote of options. Then, I could leave Bella alone for a day with no guilt or separation anxiety and go to the spa. I could really, really use a makeover. I feel a little like that woman in the commercials, all overweight and frumpy and going to the lost and found looking for herself. Have you seen me? I used to be funny and silly and not so worried. I used to look hot in a cocktail dress. And this conveyor belt rolls out and she finds herself and rushes up to give herself a big hug? I could use to find that lost and found.
Well, there you have it. Nothing too earth shattering, but two truths is all I have the energy for tonight.
6:35 AM
I'm glad you realize it's going to get better. When I had Noah, I thought it was going to be that way forever. But eventually you start to find little snippets of time. And eventually you learn to stretch those snippets out and put them together and before you know it you have an entire hour to yourself.
And I'm totally there with you on the weight thing. From what I've experienced and what I've seen with others, give yourself at the very least a year. And that's if you've got the time and energy to work at it.
But at least we're all in this together.
7:58 AM
I agree with Melissa, and totally understand how you feel! I'm actually thinking of writing a post about it. Hopefully it will come to fruition by the end of the week! Also, I've heard that 6 months is the "finaly feel like things are balancing out" mark. Until then, you're still trying to figure out what works and what doesn't and accept the fact that your life can no longer be about you! :)
4:58 PM
Yup and just when you get back to the weight you want to be and just when you can have an hour to yourself and even occasionally uninterrupted toilet time....Hee hee!
8:40 PM
You mean there will come a day when I get uninterrupted toilet time?!
3:48 PM
I still think you're funny and silly.
10:26 PM
How did I miss this post??? Huh.
Don't worry about "me" time right now. It'll only stress you out. And honestly, me time with a healthy baby is an unrealistic expectation in my opinion. With a baby that has issues like Bella?
The thing is, once you're a mom you can't shut it off. Ever. Not really. So at the beginning, even when you take the "me" time, it's really hard to enjoy it. Even with a healthy baby at home, all I'd do is spend the hour or whatever worrying. So with Bella...
I'm with Melissa, I'm glad you realize it's going to get better. I'm sorry it won't get better tomorrow. The best thing I can say, is the old advice that you've heard a hundred times: "They grow up before you know it." They really and truly do. So, more old advice: "Try and enjoy the ride."
Hey. At least you've got an excuse for hairy legs and a messy house. What's my excuse? I have none. Which is lame, and also why I had to cancel a plumber-guy coming over.
Wait. That makes it sound like my legs figured in to that, which they didn't. It was all about the messy house. No wild and crazy plumber affairs going on here people. Let's all just calm down.
Where was I? I forget. All this "me" time in the evening can really go to the head, I'm telling you.
I love you sweetie. And we really are all in this together. (Isn't my sister-in-law the smartest? We're so lucky she's in our family.)