Sunday, January 27, 2013
The dogs, after a day of unsupervised play in the rain and mud followed by a treacherous midnight shower, crashed near the bed about an hour ago. The beach towels from their cleaning, damp and covered in fur, wait for a morning load of laundry.
I've always had a night-owl spirit, but this is different. This is silly. I should be sleeping too. After the debate in my head, I meticulously change a wet diaper, cursing every snap on the pajamas as I go. She stirs. Why didn't I get the ones with the zipper down the leg? She relaxes back into sleep. I am getting really good at this baby thing.
To the kitchen. I putz. I pump. 4.5 ounces. Go me. Enough to replenish the milk taken from the frozen stash as 'emergency milk' for yesterday's volleyball tournament. Last tournament daddy needed the e-milk while mommy was coaching. Yesterday it went to waste, since I nursed baby twice between matches; one of many small victories of the day. I was so proud of my team. I drink a big glass of water.
To the bedroom. I cut baby's fingernails. She sleeps most deeply at night and doesn't even notice.
She smells so good. I took three showers today. No, four. Three. She had two showers today. One for steam breathing, one for cleaning. I wonder if she will get dry skin.
I used to sleep with my mother when my dad was out of town. Two in a bed feels better than one. My baby's dad isn't out of town yet, but he rests alone in the basement tonight so he can get a good sleep and hopefully keep the sick germs away from his nursing wife; the spouse who can't take much medicine these days. I feel like he's out of town already. I miss him. I don't miss his sick snores. I miss his squirmy cuddles though, admittedly.
To the kitchen. I gargle some vinegar for the tickle that tempts my throat to succumb to the bug going around. Being sick really stinks when your husband is out of town, can't be too careful. I write "salt" on the grocery list on the fridge. 1:48am.
The humidifier goes, a new addition to our bedroom. It compliments the white noise of the HEPA filter quite nicely.
On the bed I sit. I write in the night. Tap tap tap. I'll sleep next, but only for a little while.