“Do you want bath duty or dish duty?”
This is a common question in our house. Both are equally exhausting. After dinner is done, it is quickly time to move on to the other tasks of the evening. The baby needs to sleep. Mom and Dad need to do some more work. The dog needs to go out. And then Mom and Dad need to sleep.
But neither of us really want to do it. We take one for the team. I’d like to say we take turns, but it typically is a task my husband takes on. Acts of service is my love language.
I Konmaried my baby clothes. I did not ask myself if that "sparked joy" and I did not thank them for their purpose. I just bought in to the teeny-tiny folding method. One onesie, turned in to two and then somehow I ended up with forty. It was amazing to me that I could fold my preemie clothes in to the size of a post-it note. I could sort them all by color, by sleeve length... whatever I needed to get through the morning.
I wake up. I hear the restlessness and the babbles coming from the monitor beside me. The beast awakes. It is time for us to face another morning together. How will it go? I never know. But I do know that quickly, the cute little dialogue he’s having will turn to screams. That will be the point of no return. I rush to piece myself together before this happens. Contacts in, robe on, hair in a bun, coffee made: check.
Aside from a regular mom blog, I've decided to try my hand at creative writing as well. This is my attempt to turn my feelings on ordinary moments, motherhood and life into beautiful small essays to look back on.