Sometimes these intervals of forced breaks in my schedule frustrate me. When I am doing something, I prefer to get it done quickly as opposed to having it dragged out throughout the day. If I know there are dishes in the sink, I really won’t be able to relax in the living room. Ditto for unmade beds in the bedrooms. Maybe that’s a little OCD but what can I say, I never claimed to be a totally sane individual.
From time to time though I enjoy the respite these breaks offer as well. Little snippets of the day for just baby and me and no one in between. Yes, I want to scream at the people who ask me what exactly I do all day when they see my cluttered house or me still in my pjs at 3pm, but in the end I realise I have nothing to prove. I’m no slob, but when the baby needs something, everything else goes to the back burner without a second thought. I’m done explaining to people that I’m not being lazy sitting here with my baby while the dishes stagnate in the sink, I’m sitting here because she’s in a bad mood and will start crying the minute I put her down. Life is too short to waste it worrying about what others might think.
So yes, as I sit here with my baby girl sleeping in my arms, the lights down low and the hubbub of the household seemingly far away beyond the closed bedroom door, I’m thankful for these moments spent with my baby. She’ll be all grown up soon enough, the housework will still be there. Chores can wait.