It probably surprises no one that it's been a while since I've posted: what, with the whole preemie newborn thing and all. If you've actually felt a hole in your life where my blog used to be (doubtful), I do sincerely apologize for dropping the ball. Things are happening, it just doesn't occur to me to tell anybody, since really, all I want to do is sleep and eat meals with both hands these days.
Anyway, I was talking to a friend who suggested I post a story I'd just told her on the blog, which, in light of my absence, seemed like a good idea. It's as good a time as any--The Artist is at work, The Bud at preschool, and Lady is napping peacefully for the moment, so lest I be guilty of further neglect, here you go!
A week ago, I got my first opportunity for a night out, sans kids. It was for a surprise birthday party for my boss. His wife invited me, so it seemed prudent to go. Some of my favorite coworkers were going, I'm starting to fit into my non-maternity clothes again (does that rev anybody else up, or is it just me?) and honestly, I wanted the time away from my house. Be gone for a few hours, recharge my batteries with adult conversation and beverages, then home to the loves of my life. Best idea, ever, right?
Ugh, you guys, it was so hard! I was so tired that I yawned and rubbed my eyes constantly. That's when I wasn't frantically searching for our MIA waitress so I could order food because I'm hungry ALL the time, and hadn't eaten for approximately 35 minutes (the length of the car ride to the bar). I kept getting distracted from conversations by my letdown which made me question my decision not to bring my breast pump with me to the bar. So now my coworkers and assorted strangers think I'm a space cadet with secret leaky boobs, who can barely stay awake in a loud and crowded bar, after having only 1 beer. Yep. Nailed it. #hardpartier
When I finally found an opportune moment to politely
escape excuse myself, I went home.
On first glance, it seemed The Artist hadn't fared much better his first time alone with both kids than I had, on my own. All the lights were blazing in empty rooms. The house was a wreck, with the remains of peanut butter on toast (preschooler "dinner") left scattered on the dining table. It was 10 pm. The Bud was still up, watching YouTube on the iPad. In our bedroom, I found Daddy nodding off in exhaustion, while Lady snoozed through her evening bottle, draped on his chest. Her diaper was soaked.
I woke him up to help me put Humpty Dumpty together again, then we both flopped into bed for our 3-hour nap. That's all our newborn allows us right now.
Yeah, we'll probably be ready to try this again soon. Next year, maybe.