You know you’re a mom when…… April 18, 2008

I’ve seen this meme floating around on parenting message boards and blogs lately, so I thought I’d play.

 

You know you’re a mom when…

-You use baby talk at work:  “Sleepy Mommy needs some coffee!”

-You use sign language even when the baby isn’t around

-Within five minutes of meeting a new person, you’re opening up your wallet/cell phone/Myspace to show off baby pictures

-You leave the house with drool in your hair

-You answer the question “How are you?” with the amount of time the baby slept last night

-You have a pacifier, burp rag, and toys in your purse, but no makeup

-Your jeans wear out twice as fast because you spend so much time crawling on the floor

-You can carry a baby, stroller, diaper bag, purse, grocery bag, keys, and coffee; all without dropping the baby or the coffee

-You wake up sore after a day of roughhousing with the baby (we should get workers comp)

-You find yourself wishing that the grocery store had a drive-thru so you could go shopping without waking the baby

-You consider poop, car seat installation, and the latest episode of  Zoboomafoo to be enlightening conversational topics

This is what it has come down to….. April 5, 2008

A few times a week, Stephen and I sit around in the office with our Google Calendars, trying to coordinate work and days off and who’s watching Liz when; when we can run errands, who’s hanging out with friends, and who needs the car more; and whether we get to spend any time together (usually no).

This week’s drama is an overtime shift for me, and a business trip to to the mountains for him.  Both of those events will happen on Tuesday, so Liz is going to Grandma and Grandpa’s.

Stephen told Grandma and Grandpa that he’d be dropping Liz off on Monday so he could get some extra work done.  He has to go to the airport and fix some stuff there, then to the mall to fix even more stuff.

He said, “I don’t know whether you’d have any particular desire to tag along with me on all my errands, but…”

“Yeah, I’ll come along!”

We’re going to hang out and do all his work stuff.  How silly is that?  I’m going to sit around and watch him fix lockers just so we can hang out.  He misses me, I miss him, I’m stoked to ride around in the car with him for a few hours.

I think this is what could be described as a ‘rough patch’…one of those things that we’ll look back on in a few years and say, “Hey, remember when Liz was a baby and the only time we could spend with each other was when we were running errands?  I mean, we had a few dates, but not nearly as many as we have now…” and then we will snuggle and kiss and be happy and settle in for at least 12 hours of good solid sleep.  That’s the ideal outcome, anyway.

I need a day shift.

Balance March 25, 2008

For the last…month? few months? as long as I can remember, I have been working at least 48 hours a week.  This isn’t my choice; then again, it isn’t really forced overtime either.  I work a job where I feel obligated to show up and cover shifts.  If you called 911, you’d want a dispatcher to answer the phone, right?

Anyway, 48-hour weeks.  And 60-hour weeks.  Add to that my husband’s work schedule, the fact that I sleep during the day, errands, meetings, and whatnot, and I hardly ever see my husband or my baby!

One of these days, she’s going to get up and walk around and speak in full sentences, and I’ll be at work, worrying about which ambulance I should send to which call.

One of these days, my wonderful husband might run out of patience with me.

One of these days, the friendly banter with coworkers (whom I see more of than my own family) might turn into the dreaded “emotional affair,” followed by drama and soul-searching and drama and counseling and internal turmoil.  And drama.  Ugh.

Before any of that happens, I need some balance.  I need to go home and stay there for a while.  I need a few hours alone with Stephen so I can remember that we’re friends and lovers instead of just coworkers who work opposite shifts running a household.  I need to play with my little Lizard, too.