III. Back to Reality
I turn on the shower and grab my toothbrush. As I step out of my socks I get a smudge of toothpaste and start scrubbing. I pull items of clothing over the plastic now jutting out of my mouth as steam fills the bathroom. I go over the grocery list in my head as I test the water with my hand: "Eggs, Ketchup, Granola Bars, Something for lunch … "
I hear a small cry from the other room.
I stop everything - listening. The sound of spraying water drones on.
Has she noticed I'm missing, or just being fussy for her dad? I wonder how much longer I have before she full-out screams. Should I bother washing my hair or just go for a quick wipe-down?
This is the reality of the new normal. Each task becomes an extreme multi-task.
When you're pregnant, you hear helpful women say things like "Just sleep when she sleeps."
But when she sleeps, it's 10:30 in the morning and you just ate breakfast and the sun is pouring in through the windows.
Oh, there does comes a time when she conveniently is asleep and you are tired, but if you don't start a load of laundry she'll be wearing a pillowcase in the morning because she spit on up or pooped on every other item of clothing she has.
The best thing I ever did (besides marrying my husband and having our daughter) was decided to freeze a bunch of crock pot meals in the weeks leading up to her birth.
The idea of cooking a meal that doesn't involve a crock pot or microwave seems insurmountable … even 2 months on.
I get into a pattern of folding my bedding on the couch every morning and unfolding it every night. When I do lay down in the bed it feels foreign and stiff, like a hotel mattress.
I lose the crisp edges of my life and it starts to pill and soften like an old sweater.
I fall asleep every night to the white noise machine's heart beating pattern — lub dub, lub dub, lub dub.
Interested in crock pot freezer meals? Here's the main website I used ... I recommend the beef burritos!