Home Alone: The Parenting Experience

I went to my work place for a baby shower a couple of weeks ago. Frank is my second little boy and he was born on December 3, 2011. A carbon copy to his brother, he is sweet and a good sleeper. I am a very lucky mom.

I was thrilled to visit with colleagues and, as is the teacher way, conversation quickly moved into shop talk. I prompted the ladies around me about my former students. I was so curious about how they were adjusting to the new teacher. I wanted all the educational gossip.

I went home feeling very loved by my colleagues who cooed and made faces at my little angel. It is awesome to see the reactions a little one brings.

Interestingly enough, I felt exhilarated by all the information I had gathered about my school and the people in it. My colleagues said over and over that time passes too quickly and so I should savour my time at home. Honestly, I miss work.

Sometimes being at home with a little one (soon to be two since my two and a half year old is in day home full time until February 1st) is boring. There is only so much t.v. I can watch before I start looking around for stuff to do. Reading is a great option, but a little hard to do while breastfeeding. (I am on my third attempt at The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.) I try to get my running around done but again, it is easier to breastfeed in the comfort of my own home.

Speaking of home, being there with the baby is overwhelming. I have been forced to confront my “house projects” face on. So as I sit there, feeding the baby, I see the piles of stuff that needs organizing, the laundry that needs putting away and the areas that need to be cleaned. (ALL AREAS!) “Revel in the new baby. Cuddle. Bond. Enjoy the quiet,” I whisper to myself. Does anyone actually do that? Instead, I try to mentally plan how to organize this or that so when the baby sleeps, I can get it done. I plan finances in my head. I think about ways to fill my day. I think about my neglected blog…oy vey.

And I beat myself up for feeling bored, overwhelmed or anything other than the bliss that is (supposedly) motherhood at home. Fortunately I have met some other mothers who feel the same. Of course, we aren’t supposed to and so we talk about it in whispered tones during our play-dates. Why whisper? Why have we been sold this ideal of staying at home that isn’t easily accomplished for most? And why do we feel guilty when we don’t gush thankfulness for being able to stay home?

Well, I accomplished one of my million goals: I wrote a blog post before the end of January! I think I will try to get ahead of the laundry before I go to pick up my big boy!

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