Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Everyday I wake up to the sound of a pink-clad infant stirring in a blue toile bassinet next to my bed. I slowly rise, rub my eyes that are probably still wearing their contact lenses (bad girl) and look at the infant. She is sort of crying, sort of smiling and is trying her darnedest to wiggle out of her blanket. I pick her up, set her on my bed and unwrap her tight swaddling. She stretches her arms, the arms with balled fists at the end. She turns her head to the side, sticking her chin in the air. And then she's ready to eat.
I make my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, turn the faucet on to get the warm water running. Bottle is filled, formula is measured, cap tightened and I shake it gently as I go into the laundry room to put the laundry in the dryer. Now back up the stairs. By now, Violet has fussed enough to wake up her daddy dearest. He has picked her up, set her on his chest and she has fallen back to sleep. Now would be my chance for a shower. So I quickly get in the shower and by the time I am out, Violet has woken again and is ready to eat.
As I feed her, my mind wanders. I wonder if this will be the day, the day my groove returns. The day I can get it all done the way I want it done. The laundry, the park, breakfast, lunch, dinner, makeup, hair, mop floor, rub husband's tired feet. Will today be the day I have been waiting for?
I should be saying that although the house is littered with toys and pretzels, I am just enjoying my children and we are staying in our jammies and reading books and making cookies. That isn't me. I can't pretend it is. I like order, schedules, clean, organized, wiped, folded, vacuum lines. I am a better mother and wife when I can get things done that way. 7 years of marriage and 3 children have proven that about me.
So everyday, I hope this is the day it all comes back. It is slow going, but it's coming. I can feel it.