It's Monday, my 3 year old woke up twice, my 5 year old is sick, I tried to quit coffee and, well, it's Monday. The other day I went back to my old blog, the one I semi-anonymously ranted and raved about my life, birthy stuff, nap time, and food. Now 6 years into this mothering gig, and 3 years into getting very little sleep, I'm so, so grateful that I documented the early years. Because those days keep me going these days.
There are so many nuggets of wisdom and inspiration. So many memories that would have been forgotten thanks to my brain turning to mush from sleep deprivation...
Like this one:
If you’re struggling with antepartum depression, you have a busy toddler, two dogs, no family near, and a husband at a new insanely busy job 11 hours a day, I want you to do me a favor: have lunch with your daughter at the dining room table, when the sun is shining through the windows, right after you bake a cake for your husband’s birthday.
I want you to put Elizabeth Mitchell’s version of “Lovely Day” on repeat.
Or this one:
1. Ben cries all the time.
2. No one in our house sleeps anymore.
3. I slammed my pinky in the sliding glass door today.
4. The dogs need to be rehomed, but I don’t have the heart to do it.
5. This vaccine debate has turned vile again. I’m not sure why I’m surprised.
6. Hello, PPD, old friend. Fuck you. Go away.
Or this one that left me weeping, remembering how horrible I felt; how the darkness gripped me and just wouldn't let go:
The truth is…
I’m 36.2 weeks pregnant and sleeping has become a blissful state of nothingness that I long for.
Particularly at 1am.
Because at 1am I’m no longer feeling hopeful or vengeful or have the tenacity to believe that we’ll get through all of this.
At 1am, I just feel this little guy waking up inside of me and tossing around my womb, looking for a comfy spot.
At 1am, I have brief fleeting moments of terror, when I wish he wasn’t coming in a few weeks.
At 1am, I think of Lucielle Clifton and the lost baby poem and begin to understand why some women do what they have to do.
Hi. I'm Lindsay. Daughter, sister, wife, mother and collector of useless (and useful) information.