Since I am basically on maternity leave, this blog is going to baby centric for a while. Fair warning.
I am still getting used to the priority change. It's weird to suddenly have a new priority that trumps all others. I know that as ze gets older and develops more skills, ze will be able to entertain hirself and I will be able to do things without hir needing me. But now I leave emails half written on the computer for hours and it takes all day to do one load of laundry. Which is totally fine, I'm not bothered by this; it's just different from what I'm used to.* Every couple of days, I'm like, "We have a baby, Husband. This is so weird." Ze is so freaking cute; it's totally overwhelming.
I have learned to play video games while nursing, pumping, or holding a sleeping baby on my chest. It's easier than typing because I only need 5 keys and the mouse. This is good because I can only binge watch so much mediocre tv on Netflix. The baby does not like Supernatural, by the way; I think I agree with hir. It doesn't have enough humor. Ze likes Chuck, and so do Husband and I, so we watch that together in the evenings. We also just discovered Video Game High School, which is funny in an over-the-top way. And a friend gave me hir old Kindle, so it's now easier to read while nursing or holding hir while ze's sleeping.
* This is why maternity leave is necessary, and the US laws about parental leave suck. I'm still physically recovering from the delivery. I can't imagine going back to work at this point, but so many women have to. The only reason I have leave is because I normally don't teach during the summer anyway. My university only offers the minimum unpaid leave required by law.
2 comments:
My babies really liked the Colbert Report. :)
VGHS is great!
The sling also helped with typing while snuggling the baby for DC1 (but DC2 didn't mind being splayed across my lap while sleeping-- she likes to take up maximum space wherever she is).
I remember when mine was a little older than yours, thinking to myself, "I will be so happy when she can finally crawl over and get the toys herself. I will ask for nothing else."
Then, when she was about two, she would let me get work done -- actual writing work -- if I made deals with her. "Let Mama work for one hour, and then we'll go to the park. Deal?" "Deal," she would said, in her adorable little mispronunciation. ("Dee-wuhl!")
But yeah, not until she was about seven could I work steadily, for hours at a time, while she truly entertained herself.
I wrote six novels in the next three years.
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