Yesterday N was six weeks old, exactly. Almost to the day, she has started to show signs that I might one day get my autonomy back, at least relatively speaking. She has started having actual feedings and naps, rather than just constantly sleeping and eating with no rhyme or reason. A few times she has deigned to sleep when I am not holding her in the sling (!!!). Right now she is actually napping in our little baby swing. I am so shocked I keep looking at her to make sure I'm not imagining it.
She has been my constant companion (and I mean constant) since she was born, and these little glimmers start to appear, and I begin to imagine that I will get to go out by myself one day in the not-too-distant future. I imagine that I will have time to clean the house, or cook, or write (or nap!) fairly soon as well.
As with anything else related to motherhood, taking care of her is never all that hard within any one moment -- it's just the neverending nature of it. And if you think about it, having to do anything for 24 hours a day, for six straight weeks would be difficult, even the things I yearn to do now, like lounging by a pool or making margaritas or completing an entire load of laundry -- from sorting to washing to drying to folding to putting away -- in less than a week. (Any other moms out there with stacks in various states of cleanliness, but never, ever in the drawers where they go? I kind of want a "laundry room" that is really just piles of folded laundry. Go in there to get your clothes, go in there to drop of your dirty clothes. No questions of "have you seen my___?" Why can't my house be arranged that way? What a good idea... All the family's closets in one room. The only time clothing leaves the room is when you are wearing it. Note to self, when designing dream house, include this feature, maybe next door to the padded room... ;D )
So perhaps life is about to be more of a series of patterns, rather than a continuous random inkblot...