Things in our home have been a little out of balance lately. I wish that it was a problem that could be fixed by guzzling a V8. One sip and suddenly we are standing up straight and back to normal. Sadly, this is not the case.
Grace has had an ongoing inner ear infection for over a month and it turned us upside down. Four antibiotics and 3 homeopathic remedies later, I think we have it licked. The actual infection might be gone but the aftereffects are still resonating loudly within the walls of our home. After all, having a sick baby means having a clingy baby.
Dinners were spent with Grace sitting on my lap stabbing at my food with her Dora fork.
I cleaned the house with her balanced on one jutted out hip.
I skipped days in between showers.
Mornings were spent rocking and cuddling and being sucked on. So were afternoons and evenings.
Jim and I walked like zombies through our days because up until 3 nights ago, Grace was sprawling out between us in our bed. While she snored and slept in the heavy sleep that only can be achieved with sickness, Jim and I teetered on the edges of the mattress, lying awake most of the night awaiting kicks to the ribs, the neck, the face and (in Jim's case) the groin.
She is better now but we are still recovering. We are cranky with one another. My back hurts constantly and Jim is trying to catch up on his studying and his sleep. Grace toddles between the two of us, hugging our legs and kissing our knees. She makes it all worth it.
But my back still hurts. A lot.
Mother's are guilty of one thing: not doing enough for themselves. We cook what other people like to eat. We give up the last piece of pie so someone else can have it. We let our roots grow out and dismiss that pedicure as a guilty pleasure.
We rarely go out with girlfriends and if we do, we order the lo mien instead of our favorite, spicy kung pao because the leftovers will make a good lunch for a hungry child the next day.
We quit doing the things we once loved because, for the first time, we love someone more than we love ourselves.
Being a mom is the hardest job in the universe. People who say differently are fools. I laugh at them. I laugh right in their faces and then I flip them off. I have no room for those people in my life.
So instead of doing the dishes when I am done writing this, I am going straight to my yoga mat and letting the world slip away. Grace will be up soon from her nap and I only have so much time to Downward Dog myself back to normal. Then, after that, I am scheduling a massage.
Namaste to me and to all of you other mommies out there.
I salute you.