Monday, July 25, 2011

Occupational Hazard

I have a new blister on my hand today.  From my steam mop.  Does that seem ridiculous to you?  Because it does to me.  I know so many people who are fans of the steam mop, but I have to say I am lukewarm about it at best.  And the fact that I got a blister from it today didn't help its case.  It's so strange that I got a blister.  I mean, I've had that thing for over a year.  It's not like using it was an uncommon occurrence.  A couple of weeks ago I got two enormous blisters from the lawn mower.  That I can understand.  I haven't used the lawn mower since Amelia was a baby.  But blisters from house cleaning?  Something that I do routinely?  I would have thought I'd have calluses by now.  Oh well.  I guess I should look on the bright side and be grateful I have soft and delicate hands...

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Seperation Anxiety

It's 1:00 in the morning and I can't bring myself to go to bed.  I'm sitting here in the office/baby's room, reading blogs of people I don't even know.  Every so often I will hear little grunts and sounds of a squirming little body coming from the sleeping baby in the room.  I think that's why I can't leave really. 

I want to be with my little baby as much as possible.  I spend a whole lot of time lately just hanging out with him.  Talking to him, holding him, protecting him from his loving siblings.  I don't know why, but tonight especially I just don't want to leave him. 

Maybe it's because so many of these random blogs I find are written by women who have had a child die.  I think a lot about what it means as a parent to have a child die.  I think about how it always feels so out of the ordinary when a child dies, but yet it happens so very often. I remember that it happened even more often not so long ago in history.  I reflect on the lives of all of those pioneer women.  A woman who had NOT experienced a child's death was certainly the exception then.

I feel so lucky for every day I get with these four of mine.  I try not to think about what it would be like without them.  But sometimes I just can't help it.  It's those times that I find myself in a baby's room at 1 o'clock in the morning, relieved to hear every toss and turn.  I dismiss the idea of leaving him for the night to sleep in my own bed, a whole hallway away from him.