The (big) boys just left to go boating for the day with my cousin. I opened up my most recent order of makeup (really, I ordered moisturizer and added in a lip gloss to replace the one I lost awhile back) and realized that I ordered the wrong lip gloss. I can’t fit into pants and I am going back to work tomorrow. Shoot, I can’t fit into almost anything – I don’t recall this stage, but maybe it has been lost in the foggy newborn non-memories from Charles’s and Jamie’s infant days. I really thought I was wearing real pants or shorts by the time Jamie was a week old, because we went to the Independence Day Parade and I didn’t have super large yoga pants at the time… This is depressing, because it means that at two weeks post-partum, I am MUCH further away from my pre-pregnancy body than I was with the other two. If I could hide out at home for another few weeks, all would be well, but I have meetings piled upon meetings in the next few months and then an extremely busy autumn at work, so I have to embrace these gigantic hips somehow and find something to wear.
It’s tough when you really don’t want to leave the house to go shopping.
I have to admit that I am really hesitant to go to church, even. Not only because at 13 days old I don’t think Freddie needs to be subjected to the unwashed hands and summer colds of the congregation, but also because I know several women in church who have had babies in the past few months and they were all wearing pre-pregnancy jeans (and bragging about it!) and running two or three miles (and telling me!) within two weeks of giving birth. This is not just a projection of my terrible self-image and crazy post-partum hormones – they really have been telling me about their fitness routine immediately post-birth. Tony says that they’re freaks of nature, but since I don’t want to be seen with me, I can’t imagine why anyone else would, either. “Yes, hello friends, here’s our new baby, and here’s Amelia, who obviously could not control herself while pregnant and gained a shit-ton of weight. No, no need to tell me that I ‘look great’ in a syrupy-sweet voice – I’m totally embarrassed about my body enough as it is.” Recognizing that I suffer the sins of envy and pride does not make it any easier to choke down the tears and face the judging masses.
I’m not helped this lovely morning by the fact that Freddie appears to be trying to grow ten pounds in two days by eating A LOT every hour-and-a-half since yesterday evening. I’m tired and my nipples are sore and I am going to be all alone with the baby and the dog all day long. Neither of them are big on stimulating conversation.
I’m spending too much time on FaceBook.
Also, I’d like to go on a walk, but I am afraid. Yes, scared to walk. On Friday (I think it was Friday), I put on my shoes (I haven’t worn those in awhile!), strapped Freddie into the Ergo carrier, grabbed the dog, and set off for what I hoped would be an easy walk around the block. Nothing too ambitious, you know? But then, disaster: I stepped off the curb not twenty yards from my house, stumbled, rolled to protect the baby (who slept through the whole thing), and scraped up half of my body and jammed my thumb. Not just klutzy, but potentially harmful to my precious boy. I immediately turned back home and have been couch-bound ever since. Not a good way to start working off these thighs.
Post-fall; he was still asleep.
How about I lighten things up, hmm? This is becoming a downright dreary post and I want to assure you that we are doing well and are mostly happy and the big boys, at least, have had many fine adventures in the past several days.
Charles got to go to a sleepover/campout on Friday night. I almost cried when he left. Almost. I admire my own self-restraint.
Then, on Saturday, cousins Jack, Claire, and Juliet came for a visit (and their parents, of course) on their way home from Vancouver. Not before Charles and Jamie spent a few hours at the Children’s Art Festival (leaving me home alone with the baby, again), however; thus, the face paint.
And like I said, today they’re going boating on Lake Washington. This is also different for us – when Jamie was born, Charles was young and Tony worked a ton and we didn’t go lots of places. Now, Freddie and I are going to miss out on a summer of fun. Oh, it’s worth it, of course. I want to be with my baby and cocoon, but I also feel pulled to go with the rest of my family on hikes and to fairs and on trips. There’s even to be a four-day-weekend trip to the beach in August that we will miss. Those are long days with no one to hand the baby to, no one to help change diapers at night, no one to refill my water glass or get me a sandwich when I am nursing.
Thank God for small rewards like this:
This kid is adorable. Time to hitch up these yoga pants, change a diaper, and settle in for some more couch time with my lovebug.