I'm no superwoman: The truth about bringing home baby

The harsh reality of bringing home the new baby: your toddler folds (or unfolds) your laundry.
Melissa Haak
 
 

By Melissa Haak

Peanut Butter in my Hair

My mother-in-law was here helping us for the week I was in the hospital having our fourth baby. She still reads newspapers and cuts out articles she thinks we will like. The last time she was here she left this one from Debra PIckett in the Chicago Tribune: To You Superwomen: A Collective Eye Roll (take the time to read it!). I've long complained on my blog that Superwomen is a Myth and we need to stop trying to be her.

To me being called a supermom is more a jab or backhanded compliment then praise or adoration. Just this morning I tweeted: "I'm stuck under a sleeping baby and the toddler is in the bathroom, this can't end well can it?". The very first reply was "If you can tweet with all this around you, you are a super mom. I believe you can do anything!!". Ugh. So far from the truth.

The truth?

This is only the third day I have been alone with the two youngest. I use that term loosely because really I have only spent one day totally alone. My husband comes home for lunch and either brings food or makes it, on Monday he put the toddler down for a nap.

I haven't cooked a meal in weeks. We had a few people drop them off but my husband has done it all. My only contribution, on Monday I put everything he pre-cut and left out in the crock-pot and turned it on.

I've been wearing the same pajama pants and nursing tank all week. I don't remember when I showered last. My hair is a mess and I smell.

The toddler is much harder for me to handle than the newborn and it makes me sad. I want to have the patience to sit down and explain things to her but "Oh my word stop yelling!" you will wake the baby that has finally fallen asleep, in my arms of course.

I miss my big kids. As soon as they get home (with dad) I retreat into the quiet darkness of my room to just sit and decompress before the dinner madness. If we're lucky my husband can sneak in and we can have a rapid fire conversation about important details.

My kids have watched more TV in the last 2 weeks then in the last 2 months.

While I did work from the hospital since being home I struggle to answer even one email a day and haven't posted on my own personal blog in over a week.

The above mentioned tweet? I was sitting in my dinning room, the floor covered with crumbs and the table still strewn with breakfast dishes. The laptop happened to be open and I had a tab with twitter on the screen. The baby had finally fallen asleep to the sounds of Elmo on Spotify per the toddler request. The toddler who had disappeared into the bathroom. I decided to sip some more coffee before a (failed) attempt to put the baby down and found the toddler brushing her teeth with daddy's toothbrush. Which is probably better than mine since I don't remember the last time mine was used.

So see, there is nothing super about me, or about our home. We're getting by surviving. Some things like cleanliness are sliding and that's okay. This time is short, it's hard now, but it will be worth it, super even.

 
 
 





 
 
 
Copyright 2014 Wednesday Journal Inc. All rights reserved. Chicago web development by liQuidprint