Wednesday, March 12, 2014

The Best Laid Plans

I have small dreams.  

I dream of having a moderately clean house.

I dream of finishing a baby quilt.

I dream of knitting a sock.

A little work each day and my dreams can come true.

It should have been manageable.

But then you wake up and you realize you haven't done a proper trip to the grocery store in three weeks, and the food situation is dire.

So instead of cleaning, you spend the morning nap buying groceries with the baby strapped to your chest.

Then you come home, and pump.  While you are pumping a very helpful daughter puts the groceries away for you.  In all the wrong places.

You prepare to spend the afternoon nap making freezer meals instead of quilting, but The Greatest decides to cut something with a manly knife, something that really should have been cut with a pair of scissors.

You then spend the afternoon nap driving him forty five minutes to the "closest" urgent care facility that accepts your insurance.  Five stitches in his thumb later and Squishy gets to have another forty five minute nap on the drive home.

Evening nap is spent cooking, and cleaning, and hunting down all the misplaced groceries.  By the time Squishy goes to bed you are too tired to knit a single stitch.  All you can do is count the minutes until the final pump of the day so you can fall into bed.

And that was Monday.

The rest of my week has run in a similar vein.  My friend called the other night offering to give me a ride to a meeting for Mothers with children who have special needs.  The thought of getting dressed to leave the house made me want to cry.  The effort involved in making myself presentable would require more energy that I had in me.  Which is a shame.  Because if anyone would understand how overwhelmed I feel lately it would be a table full of women who have children with special needs.

This morning I spent the morning nap squaring up the tiny tiny quilt squares.  I got a third of them done.  

That made me happy.

I spent the afternoon nap rocking Squishy.

For two hours I sat and held my sweet baby.  I rocked her while she slept.  She felt so good in my arms.  At one point I should have laid her down to start dinner.  But I simply didn't want to.  Cereal is a perfectly acceptable dinner.  After all, it is fortified with vitamins and stuff.

When Squishy woke she was so happy to discover she was still in my arms.  

Best afternoon ever.

Now Squishy is asleep for the night (fingers crossed) and I am too tired to knit a stitch.

But that's okay.

There's always tomorrow.

2 comments:

Nancy McCarroll said...

There is certainly tomorrow. :o)

Thought you might like to read a piece by Maureen Higgins: It is entitled "To You, My Sisters". It is too long to include in a comment, but if you send me your email address, I will email this to you. My email address is nmccarroll at Q dot com.

katie metzroth said...

Lady, you're beautiful. If you want to, you could leave the house in any old thing and a ball cap and be fine. : ) I know I'm not a mom and I don't understand. But I promise you, you're totally presentable. : ) I am confident those moms will understand if you show up in a bed sheet worn toga style.