Now that Eva is back in preschool, I have a distinct urge to pack a lot into the hours that she’s gone. Having only the one baby at a time is what having a baby break used to be and suddenly it’s no big thing to haul baby boy off to the grocery store or the post office or the dry cleaners. I also mapped out a work timeline that fits into her preschool schedule so I can maximize how efficient I am online (when I’m not following the whirlwind house cleaning program I taped to the fridge).
It’s two weeks that she’s been in school now and the strangest thing has happened. Instead of packing in my busy time for when she’s gone, I’m actually scheduling a whole lot of nothing.
It turns out that I missed out on something before I actually had a quiet house to settle in. I missed my son. I mean, I was cuddling him and taking care of him and appreciating his cuteness in little gasps of time when I could find them, but suddenly having the space to take a solid hour and do nothing but stare into his baby face has been a surprising slice of heaven. Because he is a darlin’.
From a rational standpoint, I really should use the time for something else because errands and cleaning and work all take about 40% longer when I have Eva in the house (due to the toddler chaos element that seems to be unavoidable). But oh…those baby hours. I’m addicted. I think I really needed this after all of that uncertainty about whether or not it was a good time to have a second child and how I was a little disappointed when we found out it was going to be a boy. On bed rest, I spent a lot of time wondering if I would be able to bond as well with this baby as I had with Eva and I think on some deep level I decided that I probably wouldn’t but it would be OK anyway.
Silliness. All silliness. He’s just…I can’t even…I can spend hours just smooshing our faces together. He’s the greatest. My house looks like crap and I’m woefully behind in work and if you saw the state of my daily wardrobe/hair/beauty situation you’d think that I was one of those granola hipsters who don’t own mirrors on principal. Don’t even care. Bring on the baby time.