I need help.  I’d love to form a local group among stay-at-home moms to barter our services.  You come hang with my kid and I get stuff done.  I go hang with your kid and you get stuff done.

I feel like my brain is constantly thinking of the million and one things I have to do.  Then I just reheat my coffee, sit down, and eat my hours old toast.  This mom gig is no joke!  I just posted about needing a tribe and now I’m executing a plan (hopefully.). Please share this post with whomever you’d think would be interested.  I thank you.  Phoenix thanks you.  Gabe thanks you.  We need a sane mama over here.

Cheers! 🍻🍻

I’ve been MIA because I’ve been raising a baby, relatively alone.  Besides the help of my wonderful partner, it’s just her and I.  All. The. Time.

I feel crazy at times.  Like running away.  Like this is the last thing I want to do.  That’s why a TRIBE IS NEEDED TO RAISE KIDS.

Today, for example, we are both sick.  Her father has to work and we are home.  Miserable together.  I dream of a mom or some kind of someone to be available at times like these to help out.  In today’s society, that help almost always requires monetary compensation.  I once asked a family friend to watch her for one day for four hours.  I was asked if I was going to pay her.  Sigh.  Where are the days that people bartered time to help each other out?

I, more often than not, dream of living on an island with coffee, avocados, and like-minded friends, who help with baby-raising and home-schooling.  I often question why I don’t just settle for society’s standards like most people do.  I don’t want my daughter to do so either.

I am so blessed to have like-minded friends and often wish we could all be in the same place.  I’ve always felt misunderstood by the people who surround me.  I’ve always been one to speak about my feelings, thinking it’ll change outcomes.  When it doesn’t, I get discouraged.  What’s the point?

I often wonder how things are going to pan out as my daughter gets older.  I often find more companionship in strangers who I meet along my journey.  I’d love to hear from other moms and dads without tribes…

“I’m in love with people I’ve never met and places I’ve never been.”

 

 

…of a stay-at-home mom.

Picture it: 2016

Daddy is leaving for work.  It’s 7:30 am.  Baby and I are waking up.  (Baby is far ahead of me.)

I am beyond tired and whip the boob out for baby.  Maybe I can get a few more moments of rest.  Nope.

Baby spits up on sheets.  I take her to get changed.  She pees on the changing table and her jammies.  So those go on the floor and a new outfit is picked out.  We proceed to the kitchen where she happily plays with her toys in her highchair.  I stumble around like a zombie, get the coffee pot started, open the mail from the day before.  A bill from the pediatrician….We have two insurances, how is the amount transferred from primary to patient?  I don’t really want to call these people…ugh.  Always on hold and never good customer service.

I make my eggs and toast.  Suck it down with my coffee.  Then I give baby her broccoli and then nurse her.  As she’s nursing, she gets distracted and milk proceeds to leak on the couch.  Ugh.  More cleaning to do later.  She continues and falls asleep.  Do I move her so I can get some things done?  Do I snuggle with her?  All while looking at the toys strewn across the floor, the socks that need to be paired and put away, the floor that needs vacuuming, the bathroom rugs that need to be brought to the washer, the re-usable shopping bags that need to be brought back to the car, the kleenex that needs to be put away, the shoe boxes that either need to be thrown away or put somewhere to use later….You get the picture.

My coffee has gotten cold.  Phoenix is now in her swing, wide awake.  Hopefully, she’ll snooze a bit.  I’m writing now.  Not feeling like doing a single thing.  But, there are dishes to be put away, more dishes to wash, wash that needs to go into dryer, clothes that need to be hung up, baby’s clothes need to be washed, baby’s bath toys need to be put away from last night…

To be continued….going to hopefully get some of this done.

Transferred frozen breast milk to freezer downstairs, put some groceries away from last night, refilled my coffee cup.  Picked up some toys.  Feefs is now cranky so I need to attend to her.  Another pause….

Feefs is happily playing on her play mat.  Rolling around like a pig in mud.  hehe.  We were worried (no not really) that she was never going to roll.  Her chunky self just took her time.

I just fed her and now she’s sleeping peacefully in the swing.  We still use it at 7 months old.  I’m sure some people will have opinions about that.  I look at it like this…the weight limit goes up to 30 pounds so I’m going to use it up to the max.

I put on the ID channel while feeding her and am now hooked to a show called Murder Book.  Oye.  However, baby’s clothes are in the washer, and to my surprise, daddy put the wash in the dryer so that was ready to come out.  Score.  Socks are paired, clean dishes are put away.

I have ideas for dinner plans.  Cauliflower cream pasta with herbs and/or brown rice bowl with edamame and tamari scallion sauce.  Preparing that is also something on my to-do list.

I continue to drink my not-so-hot coffee.  Taking a breather as I write this and finish the show for the next 20ish minutes.  I figure she’ll need to eat around 330ish and/or when she wakes up.  I fill out my review for a dining experience I just had to earn mileage for American Airlines.

Welp.  Baby is awake and fighting to go back to sleep.

She’s asleep.  I’m hungry.  Have leftovers?  Spend time making something?  Sigh.

So, I had ice cream.  For lunch.  Baby is up again.  She is loving her little giraffe and I’m sitting with her.  It’s really windy out and I feel like she needs to be with me.  Haha.  What.  I don’t know.

The laundry is still in the washer.  It’s freakin cold down there.  Ellen is on TV.  That is one of my must-watch shows.  Jeopardy is the other.  It’ll be 5, I need to shower because we are trying to make Spanish Family Time for All Ages at the library at 6:30.  They also have Story Time for 0-2 year olds.  At 10.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I wish I could attempt to even make that.  Not a morning person and need boatloads of sleep.  Ah!

If this post seems distracted.  It is.  I feel like this every single day.  Like I can’t catch up.  Like I’m barely getting by.  Forget taking a shower and getting myself anywhere near presentable.  I feel like I have ADHD, multiplied.  I have to remind myself it won’t be like this forever, or the anxiety will get the best of me.

When all else fails and I have so much to do, I sometimes end up doing none of it whatsoever.  So. Freakin.  Productive.

 

stay at home mom

You just do it.

Up until I had Phoenix, I was always on my own path and didn’t mind it too much.  Yes, it bothered me that my family didn’t get together much, but I never paid it any mind.

We see each other at funerals.  At weddings.  Maybe at holiday gatherings.  Maybe at a yearly gathering every few years or so.  When a baby is born.  Then it’s back to being alone.

I see my friends more than I do my own family.  And frankly that pisses me off.  But I have to get the idea of family out of my head or it’s going to ruin my life.  My family now is Phoenix and Gabe.  That’s it.  If I see any other “family” at any time, it’s just a bonus.  I put family in quotations because they feel like strangers.

My friends and I plan weekly dinners, daily play dates, vacations, road trips.  We text and share pictures frequently.  So when others preach about family being the MOST important, I shrug and keep the conversation moving.  To each their own.  Not everyone has the same experiences.

As I read in one of my favorite books about raising a happy baby “The Happiest Baby on the Block” (find it in my page Reading instead of TV), “Never in history were a mother and a father expected to care for their baby all by themselves.  The idea of a nuclear family – one mother and one father to do it all – is one of mankind’s most recent, and riskiest, experiments, attempted only over the last two or three generations.  (That’s a mere sixty years out of the 60,000 years since the modern human era began.)  In the past, a couple’s family and community always pitched in to help, and later the couple would return the favor.”

So when I get ticked off about this, there are 60,000 years of programming in my head that I am trying to fight.  I’m not crazy.  I’m realistic.  My village consists of one person, Phoenix’s daddy.  I’ll manage.  It’s what I have to do.  I wonder if this “risky experiment” will succeed or fail.  I guess time will tell.  I remind myself daily that the greatest gift I can give my daughter is a happy mother.

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