Another blog post written back in the fall, which I forgot to actually post!
Scooping up the crying babe from the bassinet, we stagger towards the door. In my haze of sleep, I walk smack into the edge of the door, back up, rev my engine and attempt to get through again, like a bumper car repeatedly hitting the same obstacle, knowing that eventually, it will make it’s way through. After several more attempts, we finally make it through the door, into her room, and settle down in the rocker where she stops screaming. Through the haze of sleep and with my head drooping on and off, I stuff Winnie-the-Pooh beneath her and my arm so she doesn’t fall while she nurses. Finally, a use for all parents’ worse nightmares – those stupid stuffed animals. That useless toy that takes up precious space, the reason my kids needed a bigger bed, that annoying slobbered on animal that comes to “lick” you in the face and you just want to slug it across the room, then jump on it, and throw a temper tantrum fit for a 2 year old…
With that thought I jerk awake to kiss my little girls sweet head, only to realize she’s still nursing and nowhere near the vicinity of my kiss. Time to change the diaper and wake us both up – we’re nearing the danger zone of sleeping in the rocker. At least when changing a girl while half asleep, you don’t have to keep an eye on shooting geysers that always seem to strike when you least expect it – unlike changing a boy’s, whose aim seems immaculate for a dim lit room.
Back in our chair, I pick up my latest magazine. I have a whole stack of them now – finishing one every few nights, soaking up every single word, every single article, inspecting every single picture. I’m not normally this attentive to magazines, and since I have all the time in the world at 2 a.m., I pause to wonder why…Ah yes – it dates back to that one specific time, during the last few weeks to my 7 months of nauseas hell (which is 150 stories for another time), where I learned about my pathetic amount of/lack of knowledge of ANYthing, while attempting to make conversation with my brothers’ cool and young girlfriend. 22 is young, right? Well, I was definitely NOT cool and not young. I had nothing to talk about, nothing to offer, nothing to share that would interest anyone - unless it was the latest ways to waste your money on remedies for morning sickness that don’t work, or the best position for puking, or the latest stupid & mindless games on facebook that could distract you from misery.
So now, here I was, soaking up every little piece of information I possibly could. Reveling at the stories of other people, what they have done, how they have done it, their photos, their experiences…for instance, did you know that there was a breast cancer survivor 5 years ago who started a mobile mammogram unit, who went door to door providing breast health awareness and tools to perform breast self examinations and to provide these services to low income and uninsured woman at low or no cost? http://www.flbreasthealth.com/index.html Amazing! Stories of women who do something with the pain they’ve been given! And at 2 a.m. I think to myself, well, I probably won’t get breast cancer…since I’d be too miserable and whiney to be an inspiration to others
And with that thought, I decided I should start a blog. Afterall, no one can beat 2 a.m. musings like THAT! Then, as I wonder if maybe I should save all these magazines to re-read at a time where I’m not so sleep deprived that I’d be lucky to remember a word I read once morning comes, I notice my new daughter has finished and fallen asleep, and a wrap that bunny up tight like a burrito and head off to bed, where I will be woken again in a few hours for some more early morning musings.