A Night Out Without the Baby

I have found I have about a two hour limit away from Riley before I become physically (thanks breastfeeding) and emotionally ready to see her again. Even in my worst moments when I want everyone and everything to go away I want to be with Riley. This past week Mike got invited to sing with his boss's band on Wednesday night. I was never a bar person even when I was single and Wednesday is right in the middle of the week. So here I was just recovered from camping, tired and coming down with a cold going to a bar on a Wednesday night.

Riley was sound asleep and unquestionably out for the night. I sucked it up and left his mom to sit with the sleeping kids. I was excited to be out with just Mike and to video his performance like the supportive girl I am. Not to mention it had been at least a year since we heard live music.

It was fun, too smokey but a nice change of pace. I was sad the whole time, but it was a small sadness and it didn't ruin my night. However, when it struck two hours I basically chased Mike out the door.

I knew Riley would be soundly sleeping and not even know I was gone. Two hours is just my emotional limit for now. When she came home from the hospital it was about 5min and by December I could handle an hour and now I'm up to two. They tell me someday I'll be glad for a break and I believe them even if I can't imagine it now.

Sweet Moments

When we started dating Michael said "I want to have a little girl and I want her to look just like you"

When we were at the hospital after Riley was born he said "I hope she's a beautiful geek, like you"

Riley Roasting Marshmellows

But Where's My Dinner?

Pleasantville. If you've never see it it's a great movie. It's a black and white 1950's sitcom world and things start changing. My absolute favorite scene is when William H. Macy comes home from work and for the first time in his married life his wife doesn't greet him at the door and there's no dinner on the table. He searches the house unable to understand how this could be possible and then defeated slumps down into a chair and in the most heart breaking tone utters "But where's my dinner?"

So, I went camping this weekend and came back with a stiff tired body and a big old mess. Monday I decided to just take it easy. Let me explain that "take it easy" these days means get Isaac to and from school, feed and change the baby all day, and make sure homework is finished. Mike brought home a pizza for dinner at my request.

The next morning Riley and I had an appointment at 9:15am. We were there until just after 10am, then we went to the grocery store, came home and put all the food away, unpacked all the camping stuff, moved the laundry, ate lunch, fed and changed the baby a few dozen times and then went to pick up Isaac at school. When I got home I completely intended to get Isaac going on homework, feed the baby and start dinner. That did not happen. Instead, the homework that should have taken 20-30min tops dragged on for hours and the baby didn't want to be put down. In the end I got all the prep work done and some of the cooking, but didn't finish.

So, when Mike got home and Isaac was still finishing homework and the baby was eating, but dinner was not done. I said "Hi, I need help." and pointed to the kitchen. If his thoughts were audible they would have been the Pleasantville quote.

Once I explained all I accomplished he was less annoyed, but it's my fear that I'll fail at this. Not that I'll fail at taking care of Riley I've never felt that, but that I'll fail at everything else. The housework, dinner, laundry, etc as well as my relationships to everyone else. I'm sure you can imagine how different things are when you have a new baby with your significant other, but it goes beyond that. I'm too exhausted to make the effort most days and pregnancy/bedrest were really isolating. Which brings me back to, "well if I have no life outside the house I should be able to get this done."

I miss having total freedom to accomplish my goals. Now there are so many demands on my time it's hard to imagine. So I will continue on do the best I can for now and imagining the day when the kids look back and thank me (if I survive).

Further Reflections on Camping

Before we left we took my car in for an oil change and the factory recommended tire alignment. I called and made an apt and requested an oil change and an alignment. When I arrived (after the production of unloading both kids and their crap from my car) I asked if they had me down for an oil change and an alignment. He asked why I wanted one and I said "because it vibrates at high speeds." He responded "well we'll check to see if you need one."

When I came back to pick it up Mike was with me and I asked if they had done an alignment, which they had not. This time Mike asked for it and they said "yes sir." Ok, in their defense they were probably just trying to be nice and save me some money, but I really hate that crap. Car places and doctors! Sigh.

While we were waiting for my car to be done we went to Target to get some things for the trip including a new air mattress. The queen size was $139, but the twin was only $40 so (mom brain coupon obsession) I suggest we just get two twins. Fast forward to us trying to huddle together for warmth and falling through the gab and eventually duct tapping (you heard me) the mattresses together. Even sharing duct tapped air mattresses in a tent with the baby all huddled together for warmth felt like couple time at this point.

Also, I mentioned the freezing cold spring that Mike MADE me get in. I was not thinking clearly about this whole bathing suit situation. None of my clothes fit well from before the pregnancy why on earth did I think my bathing suit would? I've never been a swimming in a t-shirt girl, but that thing was obscene at this point. Mainly up top, thank you breast feeding. I went from a B cup to a D, how could I have imagined my bikini top would cover me? Sigh. I'm not the same shape I was anymore (which for the most part is good) which makes clothes frustrating and bathing suits kind of sad.

To end on a happy note when I sent Mike to the store for diapers while I bought new jammies he got the correct size. He remembered me mentioning it earlier in the weekend! Awesome Job, Daddy!

Camping

Clearly not my idea. Mike insisted it would be good to get out of the house for the weekend. You know those recipes that are supposed to take 5min, but the prep ends up taking 45min so by the time you're actually cooking it you've invested an hour. That's how camping is. The preparation takes much longer than the experience (and the clean up).

Mistake number one was that I grabbed what looked like "a big stack of diapers." Really I should have done the math (8-10 diapers a day x 2.5 days) or just brought an entire pack. Because we ran out on the last day. Which really sucked because I had two huge boxes of them at home (that I bought with a coupon) and we were really only 2-3 short. Mistake number two I brought two pairs of jammies for the two days. What was I thinking? A trip "into town" solved those issues (thanks small town WinDixie with reasonable prices and Bealls outlet).

As far as the actual camping part the much debated baby paraphernalia was the most useful. We set the Pack and Play up outside our tent. We made sure she had a great view of the river and covered it with a blanket to keep anything from blowing in. We also made regular use of the Bumbo. Riley loved camping. She laughed at the bird sounds and was fascinated by the trees and the camp fire. As Mike put it "it [was] the most outside she's ever been."

It was beautiful and some parts of it were relaxing. A long car trip with a baby who eats every two hours, breastfeeding in a dark tent with no back support and not being able get around very well sucked. But I'm glad we went. I survived a 3hr car ride, sleeping in a tent during cool nights, the uneven terrain of the woods, port-a-potties, a dip in the freezing spring and being dirty for days. Woohoo.

I look forward to the baptism trip in warmer weather and to sending the boys camping by themselves in the foreseeable future.

Love, Baby Carriage...Marriage?

Here's a statistic I read while pregnant: "60% of all couples in the United States live together before they get married and 1/3 of them have babies first."

I hadn't been ready to stir up any controversy blogside, but the time has come for this post. Where to even begin. I have a baby. I am not married. Believe me there are people who wanted me to rush to a court house the minute the test showed two lines. I, however, do not own a time machine and in my opinion being pregnant before you're married doesn't change if you have a marriage license before anyone finds out. Also, pregnancy was not a good enough reason to make that kind of commitment especially in a big rush.

I waited until I was 28 years old with a college degree and some world experience to become a mother. I had a baby with someone who I knew would be a wonderful father. Even if the exact timing wasn't what I hoped it was on my terms. No matter what happens between Mike and I at this point I know Riley will always have two parents who love her and are mature enough to always function as a team whether we're together or not.

I'm also observant enough to know that a marriage certificate is no guarantee. There is no magic change-o-ray emitted, you promise yourself to the person they've always been, not the person you want them to be.

All that said he did officially propose and we are planning to be legally married. I always thought I'd never do it. I really believed I'd co-habitate with someone and never make it legal. I just didn't feel like I needed that. I wanted to pursue my dreams, be free to have adventures and be loved by someone without involving legalities. I was never one of those girls who couldn't wait to get married and have babies. I just didn't really see either in my future.

It wasn't the first time I've been (or will be) wrong. So, after instantly going from a single woman to 1/3 of a family my perspective shifted (among other things). It seemed more important to be validated and have some ceremony and contract. I was already wife and mother either way, so why shouldn't I get a big party in honor of the partnership I was already committed to? Why shouldn't I have a nice piece of jewelry and some fuss over how pretty I look in a white dress?

I wrestle with the idea of how I've conformed. Children, marriage...what's next a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence? Probably not. Putting down roots has never precluded having adventures in my opinion. So, here we go, doing all those thing we're expected to in unexpected ways and out of order.