Tuesday, April 15, 2008

no normal

"How do you do it?" Matt asked as he groggily sat in the living room, a cup of coffee plastered to his hands.
"Do what?" I responded, folding laundry.
"Stay cheerful when your sleep is interrupted night after night."
"Do I have any other choice?"

I'm sitting on the couch now at 6 a.m. Thea "got up" at 5:30 and now she looks like she's ready to go back to sleep. Yesterday she took big naps all day, sometimes with no more than 15 minutes awake in between - so many naps, in fact, that I began to wonder if something was wrong. But no, it is just her nutty schedule. One day she won't nap for more than 20 minutes at a time all day and then next it is glorious three-hour stretches.

A word on 20 minute naps: they are hell. Twenty minutes is just enough time to think you are going to get something done, but not enough time to accomplish anything. Example: Thea goes to sleep, I boil some water and get a cup of tea and some toast going. I sit down at the computer to work on a web site I'm building and from the living room I hear an "annnng." Repeat four or five times and I was just about ready to start tipping back some cold ones.

Instead I cleaned. You can't hear a baby wailing over a vacuum. Every little cleaning project I accomplished made me feel a zillion times better. What is the deal with that? Why is getting all of Thea's little clothes actually into her bureau such a rush? Why is walking into a cleaned-up room so rewarding? I think it is because it provides tangible proof that I actually did something with my day other than clean spit up, change diapers and respond to "hey, mom, guess what?" 50,000 times without swearing.

Matt is off training to be a bigger and better fire dude this week. He went to Palmer, came home for a night (just long enough to be reminded what gloriousness a hotel room can provide at this stage) and went off the next morning to Fairbanks. He came home with stories of singing karaoke and driving through a slalom course at high speeds with a fire truck.
I folded laundry and tried to unravel the mysteries of CSS web design in 20-minute stretches.
Funny thing is, when Matt is gone, it is difficult but I seem to thrive on the challenge. The house is clean. Dinner gets made. Liam and I do fun things like jump in mud puddles. I am supermom, hear me vacuum.

1 comment:

Dawn said...

Hey Carey, I'm enjoying keeping up with life with baby. Sounds like things are going good if you are smiling enough for it to be noticed. Your handsome firefighter reminded me of an email I just got of some Houston firefighters on a pin-up calendar. very nice..
I agree, a clean house always makes you feel good, the tangible proof that you are supermom! Dawn