If you're the type to watch local tv news you may have noticed the past couple of weeks I've been playing hooky on Tuesdays. Or maybe you haven't because Derek Kevra has been in my stead and he is my weather doppelgänger and I am his. People often comment how they just adore my wild colored socks and I think to myself "oh wow that's nice but I've been wearing the same pair of regular old black socks for the past three weeks straight" I'm closer to filthy than clean 95% of the time. Oh well this is a case of mistaken identity I'm quite ok with because you my boy Kevra XOXO!
The point is Scarlett is back to work and I've had a few vacation days to use up so I decided to use them on days when she works to help in the transition. Let me retroactively break down how my first night alone with Holiday went. Disclaimer, hanging out one on one with a baby is all consuming so while I tried to take notes when I had the time, Holiday wasn't so understanding when I said "can you hold on one sec while I try to write this down, I'll feed you in a minute." So some of this was written after the night was over, thus my times may be fudged around a bit, so sue me.
2:30 pm - Scarlett leaves for work. She's a bartender and we're on opposite schedules which will allow us to forgo any childcare; at least this is the plan so long as I can hold up my end of the bargain. Holiday is in a food coma the first half hour and doesn't notice her mother has left. This is a smooth beginning.
3 pm - My beautiful gremlin is awake and all is well in the house, I have a couple errands to run which require zipping around in the car. It's a well known fact that babies hibernate anytime they're in motion, so ez peezy. The in laws live down the road and I first decide to drop Hammerhead (my dog) off for a play date with Frank (their dog) while me and my #RideOrDieChick hit the road. This all goes according to plan.
4:30 pm - The errands have taken a little bit longer than anticipated. This is no problem as Holiday doesn't have to eat for another half hour to an hour and she's still quiet in the back of the car. It's important to note here that at this point Holiday and I have been in and out of the car a few times thus far and no I didn't leave my child in my car alone with the windows rolled up while I run into the store, so put the phone down, you don't need to call the authorities.
4:45 pm - Home sweet home, except oh wow what's that smell? Oh wait, I know exactly what that smell is. Ok, but that's weird, why is the hand that's holding my babies butt feel wet? Did the diaper fall off? Uh oh, I know what's going down, my favorite, a baby blowout. Apparently there's a name for when poop seeps (explodes?) out of the diaper and soaks into the clothes and subsequently into my hand. Having a baby is a weird life. The changing table it is.
4:50 pm - Burrito seems to enjoy the diaper change process and I don't blame her. At first it's obvious that having your butt cleaned by someone else goes straight into the pro column as this is definitely the royal treatment. But dive deeper and you realize waiting for the cleaner to get to the cleaning might be a real drag, sitting in your own filth and all. The longer I have a baby the more surprised I am they don't cry at a higher frequency.
5:00 pm - Bottles of milk are in the fridge and it's time to feast. This is one of my favorite activities. Watching Burrito get milk drunk, then pass out. But that breast milk goes straight through 'em, so it's back to the changing table before long.
5:30 pm - At the changing table and this is a pleasant time. We hang out upstairs on the table after business is taken care of and she kicks around for an hour while we look at each other (I actually never really know whether she's looking at me or through and around me, but I choose to believe the former) and I talk.
6:30 pm - Time for a walk. Again, movement = sleep. This is an easy time, but the witching hour is near.
7:30 pm -- Back home and things take a turn. Grunts turn to cries and quickly become shrieks. Ok, it's time to swaddle and bop around the room. Since we last talked I've become a bit more adept at this soothing process, so it isn't long before all is calm again.but lets be honest sometimes it doesn't matter how well you perform those 5 S's, baby will scream until she's done screaming. Trying to soothe a baby that will not be soothed is the quickest path to exhaustion I've ever taken; thank God this was not tonight's path.
8:00 pm -- A knock on the door. Oh great someone's here to kidnap my baby, Scarlett's going to be pretty PO'd when she gets home and Holiday is gone. Well thankfully I have a vicious guard dog... O wait..
Well, looks like I'm on my own here. This is no big deal, I'll just shift Holiday into my left arm so that I'll have my right arm available for the wicked right hook I've been working on in my spare time. This dummy chose the wrong baby to kidnap tonight.. I open the door and..... !! Well my life isn't that exciting and it's actually my neighbor. And she brought gifts! Chicken noodle soup. What a sweet angel sent from next door! She knows Scarlett is back to work and has firsthand experience of the perils of cooking while working with a new baby in the house (little does she know my cooking skills haven't wavered a bit, just the other day I made scrambled eggs in the microwave and they were only a little rubbery but nothing that a half pound of sharp cheddar can't mask) But thanks! This is delicious. And what a neat tupperware contraption! Sure hope someone doesn't steal this...
9 pm -- She's asleep in her rocky little bed thing next to my adult bed (I've been warned not to rely on this so much, but desperate times) and all I can think is how does one ensure she doesn't suffocate in her sleep. That's insane. Why would I ever think that? Not once has she ever come close to this death scenario that rattles around my brain on at least twelve separate occasions per day. But here we are. OK Burrito, I promise to stop thinking crazy thoughts and will try to get some sleep.
Surprisingly this has been a pretty easy night, considering. I take no credit, this is simply the way baby life functions; some nights are easy, some are not. Trust me, several have assuredly fallen into the not category. But as always, this too shall pass.