Yesterday, I came home to a yard covered in leaves and pine needles, which had obviously been rained on. In essence, my yard looks like a disaster area. This kind of depresses me but I haven’t been able to muster the motivation to actually do something about it. Mainly, I unpacked and sorted laundry. I did some grocery shopping but I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to eat – after the three days of unabashed gluttony – so I ended up with milk, taco seasoning, yogurt and a box of cereal.
Today, I was wide awake and rested when Elliot woke for his 4:45 feeding. But I couldn’t see any reason to go ahead and get up so I went back to sleep until about 7:45 when I did get up and started putting away the Fall decorations. Then, I pulled out the Christmas boxes. Up went the Department 56 village, and next, the tree. This all involved a good deal of cleaning and rearranging and calming a rather fussy baby all the while. He was held so much and shuffled about over the holiday that getting back to our normal routine has been a bit difficult. I am thankful for the five minutes he’s giving me right now to actually sit (this kid has to be moving at all times, I swear) and think about something with a clear mind. He pretty much occupies my… everything.
In three weeks, we head back down to my parents’ house for a Christmas. Since Ash’s father and brother are coming the following week, it was the only time we’d be able to see them. I’m fearful of how quickly the next few weeks are going to pass. Before I know it, I am going to be back blogging in front of my office computer and thinking about how Elliot’s in daycare and how hard is all that going to be? Pumping milk all day, finding extra money for the daycare, still getting up to feed him at night but then having to go to work all day, trying to spend all free time with him to make up for the eight hours we’re apart… How does anyone do this without having a total breakdown? I just have to keep telling myself to be strong. But I’m really just scared.