Quarantining

“Girl I’m tired!”

I could not wait to confess. I continued on to run down the long list of things I’ve been doing during quarantine. This talk helped me to remember the importance of breaks. I have to consistently self talk: “It is ok to take a break.”

Bedtime Routine

7:00pm- The Whine Down (See what I did there?)- Bath Time

7:20pm- Warm Up Bottle

7:25pm-Last Feeding

7:35pm- Story Time

7:45pm-Bed Time Song & Rock to sleep

Now, I wish this was all as seamless as I’ve laid it out here. That final step in the routine is usually aided by flips, whines, tugging at my hair and clothes, attempts to climb out of my lap… never mind the fact that he can’t walk! The reality of all of this is that he does not actually drift off to sleep until somewhere between 9 and 9:30. Within those final moments of him falling asleep, I am faced with the hardest decision of my day: to sleep or hit the ground running by checking off all of the items on my to-do list. Most days, the latter wins. I jump to my feet and get started. My bare feet lead me to the kitchen where I take a quick visual assessment: stove, sink, counters and floor. Once I take care of all that needs some TLC there, my next mission is the living room. I wipe down the coffee table, working to remove the itty bitty fingerprints that swiped it earlier that day. I graduate to sweeping and mopping the floors there, then shuffling off into the nursery. While there is never an insurmountable amount of work to be done there, I always feel a pull to make it perfect; to make it smell good; to ensure that there isn’t a speck left on the floor; all of his laundry is folded and in its place and that it looks picture perfect.

Next mission?

The bathroom! And just as I step foot outside of the nursery, he sounds from my room. Its the all familiar “mypacifiercameoutofmymouth” whine. I beat his dad to the room and put the pacifier back, yet, he requires a little bit more from me. His cry begs of me to cuddle him back to sleep. As enticing as this is, I’m still faced with the decision of continuing what I started or stop and just be mom. Mom usually wins that battle and before I know it, it’s 6am and I’m wondering what happened.
I roll over to dial into the 6am prayer call & give God glory for another bday. I attempt to read my bible before baby boy pulls himself up in standing position. After that point, the rest of my day is really one big blur.

Change the baby.

Feed the baby.

Coffee for mommy.

Quick lesson planning while he gets his morning cardio in.

I join in as we race up and down our hallway until five minutes before class starts.

Dad retrieves him at the tail end of his meeting & I fluff my fro and put on my best fresh face for my class. Baby sleeps soundly while I teach through the computer screen and I manage to get some self care in between that first class and his morning nap. The duration of the day is really spent running behind a walker, hiding out from the kid in the walker and working to keep my home together. I wanted to keep him home for his first year of life. I felt robbed of my maternity leave and so this was just what the doctor ordered. Was I tired? YES! Was I mentally combatting the supermom complex? YES! But I was fulfilled because I had gotten my wish. The milestones I feared missing out on because I would be separate from him were things I had a front row seat for. I was granted an interim opportunity to learn how to juggle my new life with parts of my old life. I cannot say that stepping back into the real world has been a seamless transition, but I am grateful for the transition nevertheless.