from one super mama to another...

so somehow, my friend managed to have her baby before i got around to finishing my story... which was planned to help her (in some small way) through her own delivery. sorry, dear sister & newly fellow mama. i had all intentions of finishing my tale of labor before you bravely embarked on yours. but soon enough, if you haven't already, you will wake up in the middle of the night wondering how it suddenly turned into some june tuesday morning. & you forgot to take out the trash & recycling (for the second week in a row). & you haven't yet paid those bills (luckily you have a husband that manages to remember). & the floor is covered in equal parts dog hair & cheerio crumbs, but you can't bring to yourself to vacuum when the baby's asleep, to risk waking him up, or any other time because it's way too damn hot now. & meanwhile, you're waiting for the baby to wake up (again) & debating whether to push the dog off of your sweaty legs to go to the bathroom. somewhere in the midst off all this, the baby wakes up, as if on command, as if he heard you going over the list in your head from his crib in the room beside yours. you hope he will miraculously fall back to sleep, as if your breast milk was really just some magic sleeping aid, or wine (figuratively of course). but his whimpers inevitably turn into full on, throat expanding cries. & you sigh, glance enviously over to your sleeping husband beside you, kick & curse at the dog, & pick up the sweetest thing you've ever created to nurse back to dreamland. you realize sadly that what you've really missed out on these however many months is blissful reenergizing rest. & you desperately pray that it isn't your early morning shift in a couple hours.

becoming a mama has required me to moment by moment prioritize my life. with each precious second that isn't completely devoted to harry, i have to decide what i am going to accomplish... or allow to lie in wait. it started when i got pregnant & was initially overcome with first trimester fatigue. it was hard to give myself permission to lay in bed for most of the day when there were dishes to be washed or dinner to be cooked. or as my stomach stretched & my mobility became compromised, i had to give up feelings of guilt when i was unable to assist in lifting up the garbage bag (bummer!) or bringing all the dirty laundry down 3 flights of stairs just to take it all back up after it was cleaned. these little instances helped me to discover what was important at each moment after little harry was born. every day, i am faced with new decisions, usually dealing with my own selfish & necessary well being. like when harry naps, do i decide to wash the floors, or lie down in my own revere, hoping to catch up on my own needed slumber. or after an exhausting day of carrying a 25 pound bowling ball on my alternating hips, do i make this kick ass, super healthy, well balanced meal with all fresh, natural ingredients purchased from a the local coop or farmer's market, or heat up the frozen pizza & split the whole thing with mike. (i eat my half with absolutely zero guilt.) believe it or not, sometimes i choose the housewife, homemade direction. & i feel so proud & otherworldly, like wonder woman as a wife & mother (also with the killer body). but lots of times i opt for the rest that my body, heart & mind desperately require. sometimes i am unable to fall asleep for a short nap. but just allowing myself to not feel any obligations for a few minutes are sometimes just what i need in the middle of a tiring day. or when i finally put harry down at night, i find rejuvenation in watching a phillies game with mike while i paint my nails, or spending an absurd amount of money on a ballet class that brings me so much joy & confidence, or just going right to sleep, while letting the corners gather dust & the pesky weeds find happy little homes in the garden.

so tonight, i ate about 8,000 goldfish crackers & downed 2 (large) cups of tea cooler. harry's clothes are in the drier & another load was just put in the washing machine. mike is playing guitar with my legs propped up on his knees. i had planned on writing the third part of my delivery story, but it simply wasn't in the cards. someday, i'll get around to it, exactly when i'm supposed to share it. meanwhile, i brush whatever loose dirt i can from the black soles of my feet, climb the dusty stairs, wash my oily face & brush my gritty teeth, & happily fly into bed - the super mama that i am.

all before 10 pm.