Thoughts.com Blogs - Life after Emylee

I remember the days when my husband and I were first married. Waking up on the weekends was never rushed, in fact nothing was rushed. Things were so slow. To think we actually asked the question, "What in the heck are we going to do for a whole weekend?". Now after having our little bundle of energy, everything is a frantic scrimmage for survival. We have to inhale our food, run to and from the bathroom. Our sleep is faster, even our love making is on a tight schedule. It's so sad. Our life is like one of those old tape decks that if you pressed two buttons at once by accident, it would get stuck on double time and sound like a bunch of chipmunks talking to each other. I mean, don't get me wrong, life is definitely interesting, and extremely vibrant. But sometimes I just want to go pee without having to stop and start... stop and start.... stop and start... bc I keep hearing different sounds and I'm trying to guess what Emylee is into. Side thought, I have gotten really good at identifying sounds. If I were to go blind tomorrow I'm confident in my ability to keep up with life's demands using my newly sharpened hearing.
Naps. Naps are God's gift to parents. There are two hrs. in the day where we get to fulfill our needs. Two hours to exercise, (cause running around screaming "NO! NOT THAT! PLEASE DON'T TOUCH THAT!" isn't enough exercise for the day) feed our mal-nourished bodies, catch up on sleep, get showered and dressed, and all of those two hours are perfectly planned out within the minute of Emmy's awakening. If it weren't for naps all parents would starve, and if they didn't starve, they would die of either sleep deprivation or disease from lack of bathing, and they would never reproduce again. But thank the Lord that he said to himself, "Hmmm... I should probably tranquilize the little ones from 12-2 for the parents sake.
Staying fit. You would think that after having a baby and your life being kicked into high gear, it wouldn't be a problem to stay fit... right? Wrong. Murphy's law. After delivery, your body speeds up, but your metabolism slows down. Oh the irony. Before having Emylee I had this glamorized idea of parenting, breast feeding, and weight loss. But in the end Emylee laughs when I spank her, I can't fit into any new clothes and can't afford new ones, and my boobs are screaming "STOP ALREADY!". I know that was a little too descriptive, but that's reality of it all. I was NOT expecting all of that. I mean, everything was REALLY glamorized in my mind prior to experience. It was so glamorized that even the struggles I've listed seemed "beautiful".
Irony. I love irony, because it makes no sense. There is no mathematical equation. It's like air, it just is and it's better to accept it now then bleed over trying to understand it. Because having gone through all the above and swearing to never... ever do it again, sure enough a year after birthing every mom is ready to repeat the process over. So, farewell to bladder control and a size 6 pants, because I've been sucked into the baby vortex of life and now actually prefer peeing in several second intervals. Go figure.