I woke up this morning before the baby, which is rare, and I was so hungry! I quietly tip-toed from my bedroom, down the hall, passed the baby’s room, through the living room, and all the way to the kitchen–success! I quickly put my brown cinnamon sugar pop tart in the toaster and poured my glass of milk. When I went to get my poptart out, it fell down past the metal part that holds it in, and it was stuck. My breakfast, which I was going to eat alone and in peace, was stuck. I dumped the toaster upside down and vigorously shook it, I dug at it, and finally, as I’m more hungry and more frustrated than before, I lost my cool and threw the toaster across the kitchen. Yep. I went insane, lost all the patience I had, and of all things, woke the baby.
I love spending time with my five month old baby boy, but what happened to me time? What happened to just going loafing? What happened to just eating my pop tart on my own terms? After I threw that toaster this morning, I was breastfeeding my beautiful baby and was admiring how much he needed and wanted me, and how I am the most important person in his life. I felt so selfish and guilty for wanting to eat my breakfast without hearing him whine or listening to that annoying Baby Beethoven music that soothes him for the millionth time this week. It hit me that he wasn’t always going to need me or want me like he does now. Walker, my sweet baby, is one of the many things that keeps me going. How self-centered can a girl be? Wanting time away from her child… But it seems so common! You always see movies and facebook status’ about it. My husband took me on a motorcycle ride while the baby was inside asleep. He took me all the way to the mailbox and back. IT FELT GREAT! I wasn’t even wearing a helmet–dangerous! I liked the dangerous. It made me feel actually sort of normal. I stay at home with my baby, clean, prepare activities and meals for my two step kids who are here Monday, Wednesday, Thursday and every other weekend, I do laundry, I take care of the animals, I thank God everyday for my luxuries and necessities, and on Thursday mornings I go to that flea market! Oh, how I love that flea market. Thursday mornings to me are like a high school kid’s Friday night. I get to socialize, wear makeup, talk in my normal voice, and buy things!
If I could ever get the chance to breath, to get out alone and go kayaking or fishing, I’m not sure that I would take advantage of the opportunity. Crazy, right? Isn’t that what I want? Alone time? What if I miss my baby crawling for the first time? Or saying his first word? In the grand scheme of things, I think I need him more than he needs me. I would miss him. I missed him when I went to the mailbox today. Perhaps I’ll be more grateful to eat breakfast with my baby whining, and maybe I’ll dance to that awful music that I’m forced to play every single day of my life. Maybe it’s my attitude that needs to change rather than my daily routine or my life in general. Gravity keeps my feet on the ground, family makes me love like crazy, and cake makes me mentally stable.