Mommy and Baby Party

I'm a bad blogger and I'm tired from work and have less time blah blah blah. After writing "sorry I haven't blogged in so long" for the hundredth time, I stopped myself to wonder when that particular sentiment gets old. I guess it is a sign that life is, for the most part, good. WhenI was on bed rest, blogging was my salvation. I guess I don't need it as much now because, despite some minor issues, I am so happy to have little Q. That said, I always find a way to bitch. And this minor bitch is about my physical state of exhaustion and the easily predicted lack of time to do anything—much less blog.

I hadn't anticipated the exhaustion of going back to work. I had anticipated the emotional hem's and haw's and the worries about being away, as everyone knows (since mucho blogging space was directed towards that topic). Despite thinking of myself as enlightened about most things (pretty egotistical, yes?), I find myself totally surprised at how physically tired I am. On work days I wake up super early and do morning feeding, changing and bathing. Then I attend to the baby. Hahhahha! Apparently, I think I am pretty funny over here. By the time I deal with the baby and myself and get out the door by 8am, I am pretty frazzed. Then work all day, come home by 6 and do dinner, bath, story and nursing before sleep. Maybe around 8pm I start my own dinner (hopefully with American Idol thrown in--go Blake!) before my bedtime. Quick disclaimer about the pity party nature of this post, I should say that the husband is an equal contributor in all of these tasks--it just sounds more pathetic if I write it like its all me:)

I notice on my non-work days I feel very protective of my time and little energy. My mommy group? Hell no! I don't need to spend a precious hour of my time listening to everyone discuss eating and sleeping and nannies and snore. Even when I had all the time in the world the mommy group wasn't always my cup of tea(no offense to anyone out there--I think the problem is me, not them. For some reason my "mommy group" has a gag me with a spoon component I just can't shake). When a very nice mommy suggests a walk or brunch with the babes, I clutch Quinn close and stare a the phone when the call I'm screening comes in as if this perfectly well meaning person is just trying to suck my time away.

The problem is that with work and the days with the babe at home being so apparently precious to me, I have all but stopped socializing. It is the mommy/Quinn lovefest and it seems no one is invited. If I know me, and I like to think I do, this too will pass. But for now it is just me, the baby and the dog. It's the Mommy/baby/Lab lovefest (poor dog, forgotten again until the very end). At least it is a lovefest, and it will have to do for now.