It’s almost four in the afternoon and I haven’t brushed my teeth all day. In fact, one brushing a day is the new norm for me. When Jose is home, I get to take a hot shower and wash my hair. I could stand in there until all the hot water runs out, leaving that amazing man of mine to fend for himself against the fussy newborn and the ever fully charged toddler, but the all consuming guilt would kill me. So I thoroughly rinse all the shampoo bottles, collect the toys around my feet and store them in the frog container, rinse the inside of the curtain and the walls of the shower. It’s all I can do to justify the full ten minutes I spend in there.
And when I come out, Jose is standing under the doorframe asking me to take the baby because his arm is tired. I wrap my towel around my body, grab the brush under the sink and take the baby to see my husband dramatically waving his arm to release the blood flow. And I wonder, how does this man sometimes get three showers a day?
Disclaimer to my whine: I have the best husband. We both have our perks, and somehow we are perfectly opposite. He excels at the chores I loathe and vice versa. He also masters the parenting skills I lack and vice versa. We may disagree on what is more important, but somehow everything is attended to. It makes us the perfect team. Example: he won’t bounce a baby for twenty-four hours, but he will travel to the ends of the city to broaden the mind of our child and make sure there is not one speck or crumb on the kitchen floor, ever.
And I love rooting for this home team.
Other things I am loving right now:
Nursing my baby. It is amazing how in sync two can be. A beautiful bond noted just by the sight, sound or smell of my baby and I fill up. All for him. All in perfect timing. Just as he stirs, I am ready. One growing human being needs nothing more than the best nourishment only his mama can give him. After he has had his fill, I get to smell his sweet breath, his mouth wide open in his drunken slumber. And this lasts until he realizes he has been removed from his fountain of goodness into an upright position to burp and flips his lid. And I laugh as I say, “I didn’t take your beer from you, you fell off your barstool!”
Brotherly Love. Jack knows how to love. And he loves real good. If we ever taught him anything right, I know we taught him this. He nuzzles his head against his brother, says “Luh lew”, kisses his forehead and hugs him. Sometimes he loves him too hard and we have to remind him to be gentle. But that’s okay. Because dude, this is love.
Being kicked from the outside. I love being pregnant. I do. It’s an amazing experience. But that last month of bed rest, lacking exercise, feeling huge, not being able to work or help out got old before it was ever new. After a while, even the hard kicks and hiccoughs couldn’t cheer me up. He had to come out. I wanted to see the golden light at the end of the tunnel. Finally getting kicked from the outside made it all worth it.
The freedom to run. This is one of those ‘when you have it, you don’t want it’ or ‘you never realize what you’re missing until it’s gone.’ Baby, today I ran. I forgot how good that felt. The crazy rainstorms from yesterday left us with clear skies and cool breezes. If everyone wasn’t out running, they should have been. The rhythm of my feet stomping on the ground with the ta-dup of the wheels on the evenly spaced cracks of the sidewalks lulled Lucius right to sleep. Two bonuses.
A glass of wine. I haven’t had a glass of wine in almost a year, do I really need to explain?
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