Adjusting

I applied to three jobs in the year between moving to Illinois, having little Will, and starting at my new firm. I wasn't exactly banging down doors for work. A cushy little work-from-home gig fell into my lap when Will was a couple months old and it was going well enough. But then I randomly applied to a job opening and later found out that the founding partner of the firm graduated from my alma mater (whoops - had no idea when I applied!). I totally chalked it up to God's will and the rest is history. 

But now I'm retired. Again. Does this make me the Michael Jordan of the legal/blogging world? No?And my family has had to make a whole new set of adjustments to my transition back home. A kid no longer at daycare all day. Will he like me? Will I be able to keep him entertained? Will we both go stir crazy? There are significant changes to the budget, significant changes to what we're eating. At some point we will actually begin to prepare for this second child whose due date is approaching with ever-increasing speed. I actually have to clean my own house again. I get to blog. That sorta stuff. 

It's been over a week with me full-time at home again. Here are some tidbits about how our days are going.

After 19 months of not caring about television, aside from occasionally exclaiming "BALL!" when baseball, football, or golf is on, this child has finally started to see the benefits of sitting still for a few minutes to indulge in Dinotrux or Curious George. Some mornings, I will fire up the Kindle for a few minutes so I can get ready without having to repeatedly prevent Will from trying to climb into the toilet. 

I got a sliiiick new treadmill setup, at least for the time being while we only need the garage for one car.  

Oh except that there's this. ^^^ He lasted for but five minutes before trying to climb aboard. Not to mention the TERRIBLE FRIGHTENING HORRIBLE spider problem in the garage right now.

We get our smoothie fix every day, i.e., Will IGNORES HIS OWN DAMN SMOOTHIE (see background) to mooch all of mine. 

We visit the same playground at least once per day. Every day.

Then it's everyone's favorite time of the day: pantsless independent playtime! He builds "choo-choos" with his matchbox cars. 

These cars were actually my little brother's from 1998. Matchbox cars are virtually indestructible, I tell you.

We run countless errands, e.g., commissary, post office, commissary, OB, commissary, Target, OB, commissary. Then probably back to the commissary. Yeah, we be mixin' it up. 

You can't even tell me I let him watch too much television because LOOK IT'S THE POPE.

And this is why I can't look at my phone while he's in the highchair. All hell breaks loose with the yogurt. 

So we both get bathed.

And I put him to bed at 6:30 and it will be his bedtime for as long as I can get away with it. 

That's what we're up to. Lots of variety as you can see! And yet I know deep down that I will look back on these slow days with utter fondness and nostalgia. Our sweet, slow days alone are numbered. (Approximately 12 weeks and 2 days, according to my iPhone app.) Better get 'em while I can.

Point Break

No, not this Point Break . . .

But rather, that one time I thought I broke my pointer finger. Ultimate teaser, though. I apologize.

Back to the story:

The following events occurred this past Saturday.

It all began in what we all believed would be a very fine evening. We finally got into St. Louis to use our Schlafly Brewery Air Force Ball door prize. We went to the Taphouse downtown. The atmosphere was great, the food was delish, and the little guy even managed to behave himself for a small, but significant portion of our visit.

The real drama occurred on the our drive home, which I can only describe of the most bizarre turn of events that occurred in quite some time in this oddly documented life of ours.

I thought it like any other ride in the car. Will was screaming his head off. (The baby, not the husband.) Just informing us of his continued disliking for the car seat.

I was doing like any other mom who'd given up trying to entertain a baby fed up with his car seat. I did my best to ignore his cries and took to biting my fingernails as a coping mechanism. But like any clean freak mother, I wasn't just going to toss fingernails in the back seat of the car, so I did the old crack-the-window-just-a-bit to let her fly. You know. You just crack the window the teeeeniest bit, and the wind sucks the nail right on out of the car.

Well, I misjudged. And I rolled the window back up onto the tip of my finger.

I swore I felt my finger snap in half at the tip, and when I rolled the window back down, got my finger dislodged and saw the blood, I proceeded to FAINT. That's right. I went UNCONSCIOUS in the back seat of the car while baby Will screamed at the top of his lungs and husband Will, screamed over top of the screaming baby Will, cried out my name in an effort to determine whether I was, you know, conscious and okay and would live.

When I came to, I responded that no, I don't think I will survive this, but do go ahead and keep driving.

And then I almost vomited. The end.

Will admitted that he was only thinking of himself during the entire ordeal. You see, he had a similar point break episode whilst choosing to buy this particular ladder:

during a particular episode of his particular wife's pregnant nesting.

We were at Lowe's buying painting supplies and he accidentally sliced his finger open folding the ladder shut. His face turned white and he said he felt lightheaded. I IMMEDIATELY told him to sit down for a second to collect himself, but he tried to play it cool and walk it off . . .

THAT particular story ended up with his hugely 7-months pregnant wife, with the athleticism of an NFL offensive lineman, pinning him up against additional Lowe's merchandise in order to catch his fall. Those two years I spent playing tackle football finally came in handy in this game called life.

And then he almost vomited. The end.

The worst part is that I literally thought the damage to my finger had been CATASTROPHIC. Instead, all I have to show for my intense pain and suffering is what looks like your average unmanicured housewife's hangnail:

Oh well, at least it wasn't for a booger.

A Play-by-Play of a Typical Day

Copying off the likes of Sarah and Olivia to bring you a little taste of daily life here at the Brez casa. I thought about doing one of these when Will was at JAG School, but no day was really "typical" seeing as little Will's schedule was all over the place. Our days are way easier now, but I still want to document our little life together, so my future self can either laugh maniacally about all the free time I had and sleep I was getting, or sympathetically reminisce over the long-forgotten season of sleep-deprivation. (Dear Lord, please be the latter.)

This was my yesterday . . .

1:05AM: Will wakes for the first time for some food and a diaper change. He just slept for 5 and a half hours. HUZZAH! I was only asleep for two hours of it, but obviously he will go another 5 until our normal 6:30AM wakeup!

4:15AM: . . . Fat chance. I change a poopy diaper. Think to myself he should be good to go until morning.

5:04AM: Ha. Hahaha. I'm a chump. I get up, re-swaddle him, put the paci back in his mouth, and dive back into bed. 

5:28AM: Still fussing. WHYYYY, why are you acting like such a baby? I decide to nurse him and change him. 

7:37AM: It appears Will's first act of mercy for the day was giving me a 1.5 hour stretch. Our daily routine is kind of wonky now, but I'll graciously accept this freely given gift of 93 minutes of additional sleep. I change him, dress him, and bring him downstairs to discover Will already brewed some coffee before leaving for work. Today might not be so bad!

I stick Will in the Bumbo and sprint into the kitchen to grab some coffee, so as not to leave him unattended for very long. Not before snapping a photo.

I sit for a bit. Read. Pray. Sip my coffee.

I turn on the Today Show and watch a Jessica Simpson interview while on my second cup of coffee. Her lips look weird. She can't move her face. That's unfortunate. The dogs are being obnoxious fighting over their Kong tire, but at least Will is entertained. 

I try to ignore all the dog hair I'm sitting in. Didn't Will vacuum while we were gone? (He insists the answer is yes.) Decide vacuuming today is a must. 

8:27AM: He nurses less than five minutes. Not a very good one. Oh well.

8:36AM: WOWZAS. I feel the unmistakable rumbles on my leg. I change him. I'm still using leftover disposable diapers from our trip to Maryland, so I don't have to take him upstairs. He seems pretty content, so I put him in his pack 'n' play to get things done around the house.

8:42AM: Dishes from yesterday. The worst. Start the dishwasher. He's still entertaining himself, so I also start some laundry. Thankful I don't have diaper laundry today because there is a lot of laundry from our trip to Maryland.

8:54AM: I hear him start to fuss. I look at my BabyConnect app and see he's been awake for an hour and 17 minutes. Ready for a nap. I grab him and we head upstairs. I make fart noises in his arm as I carry him up the steps.

When I go to put him in his crib, by the light of the morning sun, I realize there is poop in his sleep sack. Ummm. The only clean one I find handy is a fleece winter one. This will have to do. I leave the legs unzipped so that he doesn't get too hot. Wonder whether my mom of the year app got lost in the mail because surely I should have been contacted for an interview by now.

8:59AM: Naptime begins. 

I tidy up a little and he's passed out before I even leave the room. 

9:00AM: Like a ninja with ADD, I run around and do a million chores around the house. I get dressed, brush my hair and teeth. Think to myself for the 18th time that I should probably eat something. I'll make the bed first.

9:24AM: Finally get around to eating breakfast. Kashi and Fage greek yogurt. Darn, Will bought 2%. I prefer full fat. It's still delish. I read some blogs and watch some TV while I nom.

9:51AM: I finally get around to vacuuming the entire downstairs and the couches. I feel so much better. I look at the clock and think maybe Will is down for a long nap. 

10:10AM: I finish vacuuming and dusting. At least one room in the house is clean. Here's a picture of my handiwork, highlight reel style.

That crease in the rug will be the death of me.

10:26AM: I head upstairs to tackle these guys while I wait for Will to wake up:

And I tidy up our bathroom, etc.

In the process of putting away laundry, I realize I need to go through my clothes and get rid of some pre-baby things that will no longer fit. (My pants just started fitting again, but the majority of my shirts and dresses that are non-nursing friendly and can't accommodate the new boobage/postpartum spare tire have got to go.) As a result, only one basket gets folded and put away and I now have a new pile of donation clothes sitting in our room. Whatevs. 

I change into my running gear, so that I can head out when Will wakes up. It's currently in the high 60s, but it's supposed to get up into the 80s later. I don't want to run with the stroller in 80 degree weather.

11:05AM: Wooo. That was a 2+ hour nap. We like those. I wish I had known, I would have done work instead of chores, but it's fine. There's always tomorrow. Weekends are when I get the bulk of my work done anyway.

11:19AM: He gets a nice, long nursing sesh in. My Bloglovin' app is malfunctioning for the 99th time, so I just browse Instagram and Facebook instead. I download Dropbox to my phone, so that I can read for work instead in such a desperate situation.

Done nursing . . . diaper change.

11:33AM: I hear him rip one. I go to change his diaper again. Aaaand just when I get a clean one under him, he has an accident. 

That's 3 diapers soiled within 10 minutes. This is why we cloth diaper.

11:40AM: I am just now finished cleaning up poop. 

So much poop.

I text Will to see if he's coming home for lunch because I want to head out on our run. He's leaving soon. I leave the dogs to roam the house instead of putting them in the laundry room as usual. We are testing out how they handle the freedom. I grab a berry lemonade Kashi bar and head outside with the stroller. 

Nah, this post is not sponsored by Kashi. 

I see Will pull up to the house. I say hello, a quick kiss, and head out for my run.

11:54AM: 5 miles. Will smiles at me for the entire last mile of the run and during our walk home.

12:55PM: We're home. I hear Will's bum rumble, but I learned my lesson from earlier, so I let him work the rest out while I catch up on missed calls, texts (a whopping 23 in one group text - you know who you are), and emails. A few minutes later, I bring him up to change his diaper. We switch back to cloths. 

1:09PM: I remember I wanted to do an ab workout today. I vacuum the floor of our bedroom for a workout. 

Will judges me the whole time as I huff and puff through the workout. I hate ab workouts.

We both tolerate only 13 minutes of the 15 minute workout. I pick him up so he stops crying and decide to use him in a modified kettle bell workout of sorts.

1:28PM: I wonder how much my kettle bell weighs, so I decide to weigh him. Everyone in Maryland wanted to know how much he weighed since they would be sore the next day from holding him. 17 pounds. I was on the money. Also, only 4 pounds away from my pre-baby weight. Cool.

1:45PM: He is still acting a fool so we nurse. Another wimpy 5 minute sesh.

1:57PM: It's really close to our nursing session, but I decide to try him for a nap. He didn't sleep much during the run. He starts to doze off, thank goodness.

2:02PM: He's asleep! I am starving. Food wins over showering, so I start on lunch. Even though I know I am documenting this day and will be sharing my food choices, I decide to make some mac 'n' cheese. Judge away. I eat an apple and empty the dishwasher while I wait for the water to boil.

2:30-3:30PM: Work. Eat the whole box of mac 'n' cheese. Feeling pretty gross, but I just ran, so it cancels out. Contemplate my future as a nutritionist and/or personal trainer.

3:31PM: Will wakes up angry. That was a pretty decent 1.5 hour nap, but he is not happy like he should be. I pick him up and realize his diaper leaked. Dangit, forgot to tighten it before putting him down. 

3:43PM: I nurse him again. This is a nice long one. He falls asleep on the Boppy pillow. I decide to let him sleep on me for a while and admire his rattail in the iPhone camera. I close my eyes and doze off a little, but mostly read from my phone.

4:40PM: It's been 45 minutes, so decide to wake him up. Don't want bedtime to be a struggle. Also, I still haven't showered and can feel Will's drool and sweat all over me. I feel so gross.

I change another diaper. 

He is all smiles, so I stick him in his rock 'n' play in the bathroom and hop in the shower. 

5:18PM: As I finish cleaning up, Will is home! He gets some chill time in with the little man.

We hang out and catch up on some family time. I feed the dogs and let them out back to run around. 

6:30PM: I start the bedtime routine while Will cooks dinner. Nurse, bath, etc., etc. 

7:06PM: It's a little early, but Will's been up for over two hours, so I put him in his crib. His eyes are open, but it's not long before he drifts off. 

7:07PM: I am in search of alcohol.

Will drank the last Summer Ale. I am distraught! He knows I don't like the IPAs he bought. 

Margarita it is. Extra salt, por favor.

7:20PM: Dinner of hot Italian sausages and grilled veggies. We watch the most recent Game of Thrones episode while we eat. I am very concerned over the direction Arya Stark's character is heading.

8:30PM: Clean up dishes and start getting ready for bed. I am especially tired from little Will's early morning antics. Will is taking his annual physical fitness test tomorrow at 6AM, so he is actually for once down with the early bedtime. Holla.

Brush the jammers, take out my contacts, etc. 

9:10PM: YES. I'm in bed for the night. Will and I talk for a while and then we finally doze off . . . 

. . .

Sweet dreamland.

. . .

Just enough to head into a deep sleep.

. . . 

But . . . 

11:14PM: Thought you saw the last of me? Think again! Will is up. He only went a 4 hour stretch, that rascal. I nurse him, change him, and he goes back to sleep immediately. I dive headfirst back into bed, where I remain for at least the next 30 minutes to round out this account of the happenings of the past 24 hours.

If you lost count, that was: 14 diaper bombs, 8 nursing sessions, 1 hour of exercise, 1 hour of legal work, 4 cups of coffee, 1 margarita, and 42 checks of the Instagram. 

A typical Monday.