I sit with a moment, a first it seems. The past few weeks a blur, a waking dream, a challenge like I never could have imagined, a challenge I took on and fucking conquered as only a Mother can. I haven’t slept more than an hour in over 3 weeks yet I haven’t gone a day without makeup. I haven’t sat down to eat a meal in weeks but who the fuck am I kidding, like I have ever wanted to sit and enjoy a meal. Eating the occasional protein bar while changing a diaper suits me just fine. Cleaning my house with one arm hasn’t been too difficult an adjustment nor has breastfeeding while doing paperwork or pumping breast milk while typing this very sentence. My baby sleeps next to me, quietly contemplating his next uproarious complaint. It’s tits or shits, that’s about it these days. Kinda boring actually. I am looking forward to the days of chasing him around the yard, cleaning scraped knees and learning everything there is to know about this gorgeous little man.
I unapologetically would like to state that I will not be sharing any pictures of my kid. Some shit is just too precious to send out into this “world”
P.S. (I will be writing more regularly from now on)
Two different dreams (they might be connected)
I found some videos of my Dad that I had never seen before. It was a video of him video taping a picnic. The camera would occasionally pan around and show him looking towards the camera. In the last scene he looks right at me and puts his finger to his mouth making a silent “sssshhh” and says “Regina, be quiet”.
I was in an awkward bathroom and I could hear a lot of people outside the room having a party or a fight, I couldn’t tell which. I had a bad case of the shits and was super paranoid about someone walking in. I finished and flushed the toilet. The water began to rise, and rise. As the brown reeking water teetered precariously at the rim, the door opened and in came my entire family. They had platters of food, balloons and flowers. However they were also arguing with each other so it was apparently a party and a fight going on. Actually, when family is involved there isn’t much difference between a party and a fight. I was mortified and screamed as the toilet sputtered and the flow of shitty water poured out and over the floor covering everyone’s feet in slimy brown stinking filth. They seemed oblivious to the mess and simply continued the quarreling and consuming of mini sandwiches and spinach dip. My attempts at stopping the flow with towels and such were to no avail and I eventually gave up.
Conclusion? A connection?
I am mortified at the idea of childbirth. I realize that it is obviously inevitable. I even made the huge mistake of watching birth videos on youtube. If you are pregnant DO NOT WATCH these sort of videos! I wish so fucking bad that I had not. It’s not necessary, it’s going to happen whether you are prepared for it or not.
I am also terribly anxious about my family being all up in my business. I don’t want a baby shower, I don’t want anyone asking me how I am and I really don’t want anyone fucking touching me.
My Dad was always so understanding of my quirks and gave me my space when I wanted it and gave the best goddamn hugs when I needed them. So, I think he’s telling me to chill, to shut the fuck up and just try to enjoy this time of my life without getting all caught up in the bullshit.
Thanks Dad, I love you.