I’ve Come a Long Way with this Baby–or Have I?

Today I’ve led the kind of day the thought of which sent me in a hysterical crying jag and breathing into a paper bag post-partum.

Three weeks into Kate’s life, while everyone else in my mother’s group was talking about their fears about raising a smart kid, handling breastfeeding challenges, and whether little Miranda would ever sleep through the night, I was wrangling with much different demons. I was crawling the walls with fear that I’d never leave the house, start watching daytime TV, and suddenly determine that scrapbooking was a fun way to spend a weekend with girlfriends.

Well let’s see. Today I got up, kissed my husband goodbye, and shuffled into the kitchen in my PJs to feed Kate. (No food in the house for me, so I decided to wait for lunch to eat.) When I put her down for her morning nap I wrote roughly 10 thank you notes for various Kate-gifts and other hospitalities that we’ve been the recent (and not-so-recent) recipients of. Then I showered and put on one of the 4 pairs of kakhi shorts I seem to rotate through. As a special treat to my self-esteem, I blew dry my hair.

Kate got up, I changed her using one of the new Costco-brand diapers. Intrigue! Will these diapers be as good as the Huggies she’s been using? Did I really save a considerable amount of money on them? (Whatever the outcome, we’re stuck with a 4,000-pack.)

Dressed Kate, mailed notes. Loaded kid into car for journey to Trader Joe’s. Shopped, returned, fed kid lunch. Started to make dinner–a one-dish Mexicana-type meal that includes a jar of Pace salsa and a can of refried beans. It’s a recipe I recently got from a friend with a one-year old, in exchange for my chicken salad recipe.

Read Kate stories, put her down for Nap #2. Finished assembling world’s simplest meal (my God, it’s a casserole) and realized that if people didn’t start having kids at older ages this whole slow-cooking/gourmet phenomemon might never have come into existance. Maybe a lot of other things wouldn’t either. Did Albert Einstein have kids?

Now Kate’s up again. Just now hearing her babble. So, I’ll get her up, change her (while noting the quality/absorbancy of the Kirkland diaper), and we will head out to visit Rose at the nursing home.

This is the day that I feared. I had a couple days of post-partum crying thinking that a day like today would inevitably cause me to internally combust. In those weepy moments I asked myself questions like: Why after 12 years in SF did we decide to move to Oakland? Why was it we wanted a baby? And why can’t I just strap her to my back and go about my usual life as if nothing ever happened? Back then I even remember wanting to admit myself to the nearest workplace for a good old familiar 12-hour work day.

What’s scary is today has been perfectly pleasant. I’m not sure if this is progress or not.