1. I can’t remember the last time I vacuumed our apartment. I’m not really a clean freak (although I do like the way a freshly-vacuumed rug really makes a room look that much better), but when every single thing that gets dropped on the floor comes back up with a minimum of three of my hairs (thank you post partum hair loss), it’s time to pull the Hoover out.
2. I used to scorn people who used drive-thru’s. Becoming a mom has helped me truly appreciate the beauty of being able to order a ridiculously large cup of coffee without having to risk waking the baby to actually take her inside Starbucks (especially since my need for caffeine is most likely due to her lack of sleep the night prior). Before you start hating, the MINUTE Peet’s comes out with a drive-thru, it’s hasta la vista Starbucks. Until then, keep the venti-five-shot-caramel-machiatto-extra-hot’s coming.*
3. Today I dipped my foot in the fountain at Marina Square to “wash off” Tiny’s vomit that was seeping between my toes. The act gave me some satisfaction (as I always relish doing things I wasn’t allowed to do as a child) until I realized the very reason I was never permitted to put any body parts in community fountains was because of people like me doing things like what I was doing. Excuse me while I take a short break to Lysol my feet and Rainbows once again.
4. I dropped my computer on the floor today, and I really don’t care. After the initial irritated utterance, I shrugged it off and haven’t stressed about it. I’m hoping to get a new Mac soon anyway, so if the death of this little guy speeds things along - so much the better. (The drop was entirely by accident. This MacBook has served me well for the past five years. I’m just ready for the Pro.)
5. I pulled into Mc Donald’s this afternoon fully intending to order the largest size of fries possible, because I’m tired of having ZERO snack food in the house. I only changed my mind because the line (for the drive-thru, of course) was too long. My unclogged arteries will soon be sending a thank-you note to my impatient personality.
6. I fit into my pre-pregnancy jeans today (hooray!) but decided not to wear them because I’m super self conscious about the little bit of belly that still pokes over the top. Body image issues rear their ugly head once again. I love my baby and I am truly proud and amazed by what my body accomplished and produced after nine long months. But it didn’t happen without leaving marks behind. On the other hand, it’s nice to know that my relatively healthy eating habits and mild exercise routine is paying off. Hopefully the progress will motivate me to work harder.
7. Through Tiny’s entire 12th week of life, I wanted to throw her out the window. They say there’s a leap or growth spurt somewhere around three months, and maybe it was the culprit, but Adelaide was a BEAST for a whole week. Fussing for no reason, even while being held, screaming bloody murder and blowing out every SINGLE time we were in the car, no longer sleeping through the night... I was over it. Like, WAY over. Which leads nicely into my next confession.
8. I told my daughter to pack her bags and move out, and I was 99% serious. Maybe a bit of an extreme thing to say to a 12-week-old, but she was pooping on my bed. Seriously, kid? Instead, my wonderful aunt packed HER bags and came down here to babysit while Jay and I went to a wedding without Adelaide. It. Was. Blissful.
9. Sometimes I laugh at Tiny when she is crying. Not when she’s really crying (because she needs something or she’s hurt or whatever). But she is SO dramatic... Her fussy face just kills me. I don’t do anything to provoke her, but I am utterly amused by her woebegone, poor-is-me, nobody-loves-me uber pathetic whining. I can always tell when she’s being a drama queen, because there are never tears when she’s pitching a fit. I’m onto you, kid.
10. I love this little human more than I ever could have imagined. I’m literally obsessed with her. I love that I get to see her every day, and I still can’t believe that she’s MINE - I never have to give her back to anyone. The feeling that explodes inside of me every SINGLE time she smiles at me is indescribable, and it makes all the poop explosions, the ear-splitting car rides, the sleepless nights, and the now-yellow stained sheets completely and utterly worth it.
*I don’t actually drink that much caffeine, for those of you who are worried about it affecting Tiny. Per her three-month check up, she’s in the 75th percentile for height, so I don’t think my daily cup of joe is affecting her growth.