Friday, July 27, 2007

Crazy Days

It has not been a good week.

It’s not that anything really bad happened. It was just chaotic and exhausting. Work has been unpleasant for a variety of reasons. My house is a mess. I’ve got about a bazillion (okay, more like eight) errands to do this weekend. I keep telling myself that life gets easier and things will slow down, but I’m beginning to think that I’m fooling myself.

As time goes by, it seems like there’s always MORE to do instead of LESS. It’s the nature of the beast, I suppose. The beast called life.

I remember thinking when I was pregnant, I would be less tired once the baby got here. Then my daughter was born and all hell broke loose—in a good way! I think being tired during pregnancy is just the body’s way of preparing itself for the months (or years) of exhaustion ahead.

I don’t mind the chaos. It’s just that I thought things would get easier as she got older. And things aren’t harder. They’re just busier. I’m no longer getting up with her four times a night to feed her, but now I’m chasing her around the house all day. And can someone please explain how I haven’t lost the rest of my baby weight with all the chasing I do? And how can my 2-year-old can out run me? My legs are longer, but she is really, really fast!

I’m no longer washing bottles or cleaning baby food off the floor, but now I’m cleaning up toy cups and food from her play kitchen. Instead of trying to find time to paint the bathroom, I’m cleaning up finger paint off the floor. And the sink. And the towels. Instead of snapping up onesies after a diaper change, I’m hurrying as fast as I can to un-snap jeans so she can use the toilet.

I don’t even know where the time has gone. I remember being told over and over again while I was pregnant that time would just fly by once the baby arrived. And it’s true! Now, don’t get me wrong…there are days that seem to drag on and on. Like when she’s sick and I’m cleaning up the fourth puddle of baby puke since we got up—and only an hour has gone by! But for the most part, I feel like she arrived last week, and she’s two years old now. She minds her manners, sings her ABCs, counts to thirteen (weird, right?), and “reads” me her favorite books. It’s memorization, I know, but she doesn’t skip words while she’s “reading”, and will correct herself if she misses a word. She sings all of her favorite songs to anyone who will listen, jumps into my arms unasked for hugs and kisses, wakes up in the morning and calls out for me…then blurts out, “I love you! I slept good!” as soon as I get into her bedroom.

What a life. I think I’ll accept the busy and chaotic days, because deep down, I know I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

1 comment:

Cheryl said...

And one day, you'll find her vacuuming and straightening up and be so amazed that she's doing things for you. Enjoy these years. The housework can wait.