Just a few random happenings I thought I’d jot down…
Why I Love Him Part 678
I needed to run to the store last night, which means I had to put on pants of some sort. I ended up tossing on a grey, ratty skirt. I looked in the mirror and actually took a minute to debate with myself “Seriously, CAN I go out looking like this?” I noticed the dirty, big, melon colored T-shirt hanging in an unflattering manner around my 4 week-postpartum mamabody. “I am a new Mama”, I repeated a few times “Can’t I get away with this? It’s just Wal-Mart”. I again checked out my reflection; my makeup-less, zit-littered face staring back. I saw my hair, pulled back earlier in the day with one of Kaia’s tiny hair ties, it’s fine, limp locks falling haphazardly in my face. I decided maybe I should actually put a comb through it. “People will understand, won’t they?”. I adjusted my shoulders, stood a little taller, hoping my posture would magically correct my bag-lady appearance. “Oh well, Leigh, just DO it. Just go already. ” My brown flip flops and big ol’ wintery looking corduroy bag topped off the mismatched, tired mama look.
As I prepared to walk out, my husband stops me (with our babe in his arms) and says “You look cute!”. I gulp, swiftly turn my head his way, and say with shock “Are you kidding?” (translation: have you SEEN me today?) He continues “No, you look cute in your glasses and your hair like that”. I laughed and said “Wow, thanks, I’m a total mess today” and stepped out the door to our car. I couldn’t believe he thought I looked GOOD. I had done absolutely nothing to attempt to even look presentable, and yet my super-cool husband thought I looked GOOD. So, when I awoke this morning, I had to capture the madness with a picture (yes, I slept with my hair this way). Enjoy – it’s actually how I looked when he made the comment (sans outfit).
How You Know You are a Real (Tired) Mama: Part I
A few days ago, I sat on the carpet in Kaia’s room with Indi in my arms. We played dolls and trucks together on the floor, the morning light filtering in through the wooden plantation shutters. I had decided it was going to be a good day. Kaia thought it would be funny to place some pink bunny ears on my head and so I gladly donned them while we played. As usual, I had on no top and no makeup (do you sense a theme in my post??). Indi was snoozing, covered in a blanket.
Much later, I walked into my bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I laughed. Here’s what I saw. Yeah, I’d totally forgotten about the bunny ears….shades of Playboy, no?
How You Know You are a Real (Tired) Mama: Part II
Last night, as we prepared for bed, I laid down to nurse Indi to sleep. As she began to fall into slumber, I contemplated how I was going to get out of the bed without waking her (she was on the side closest to the edge, so I was in the cheese in the middle of the Jason/Indi sandwich). I still had to put on a comfy bra, insert nursing pads, change out of my skirt, go to the restroom, turn off the bathroom lights, and get a drink of water.
Instead, I awoke three hours later sprawled on my back with a distinct and stale taste of cheese in my mouth (which I’d eaten before heading to bed). Confused, I smacked my lips and reached for some water. Indi was
smooshed cuddled into my armpit, the bathroom lights were blaring into our bedroom still, my glasses were perched on the other side of Indi on my pillow, and the elastic of my skirt was cutting into my jelly belly. And the rag, which I’d quickly stuffed into my uncomfortable bra while nursing Indi to sleep to control my leaking, was still a jumbled mess poking out of my bra. It was 3:00 am and I was confused, stunned that I’d fallen asleep like that. I NEVER do that, never fall asleep without at least waking up a couple minutes later to finish my routine. I laughed, got up, and finished what I’d meant to start hours prior. I have no photos of that.