Yeah, this thing? This lovely “picture?” It’s my to-do list. Oh, but just my “Before Baby Cleaning To-Do List. I have a whole other list of actual to-dos, which includes freezing meals & getting a bikini wax.
Give me a second. I need to have a slight panic attack. ::grabs paper bag::
I know, it’s extensive. But the mother in me screams injustice to the thought of evening bringing my baby into the house prior to EVERY SINGLE WINDOW SCREEN in the house being scrubbed with Clorox. Because that’s a totally rational thought. ::rolls eyes:: Nesting hormones, thou art a bitch. & when I look at these lists, panic ensues. Because then I scurry to my calendar & like a cartoon character, spend 10 minutes whipping my head back & forth between my calendar & my list screaming, “MY GOD, THERE IS NO TIME!” I can practically feel birth impending upon me as I comprehend the goals/tasks/psychosis laid out before my eyes. & then my brain switches gears faster than the Duggar’s produce another offspring, & I think “OH MY GOD, I WILL NEVER HAVE TIME. EVER.”
& that is the reason I feel the pressure to get everything clean in my house before Harrison’s big arrival, just in case I can never pick up another sponge in my life due to bottles, blankets, & binkies. & I start thinking about my workload, motherhood, & life in general…& it’s overwhelming.
Chokingly overwhelming. Right now, I picture myself as a lazy juggler — a few balls flying through the air (not Nate’s) & me under them, tossing them lightly. Work, husband, house, dog, life. Work, husband, house, dog, life. Big responsibilities, but ones that I feel securely fit into my role. I work 40 hours per week, sometimes more. Then I go home & smooch on the husband, make dinner 50% of the time, & play with the pup. And when Harrison arrives? Add a baby to that mix. & daycare drop-offs & pick-ups. Pediatrician visits. Quality time with him since I’m working 9-hour days & then in the car two hours. While still maintaining a house & a marriage.
I need to post this, walk away, & then come back to break it down even more. I feel like there are a million facets to my fear of not “keeping it together,” & one post cannot contain it all.
Bagels & cream cheese usually drown out fear pretty well, right?
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