Adjusting Expectations

I was nervous about being the stay-at-home mom of a newborn. I thought he'd sleep all day and I'd be bored. I thought he'd cry all day and I'd be frazzled. I thought we'd turn into shut-ins and never see the light of day and both end up with severe Vitamin D deficiencies, not to mention social disorders. Being the stay-at-home mom of a newborn, as it happened, was terrific. I got to nap with him, I got to eat at random times of day and night, in short, I got to be as flexible as he needed me to be back then.

I fully expected that being a stay-at-home mom of a 9-month-old would be awesome. After all, the 6-12 month room at the daycare was by far my favorite. I loved the crawling babies--their emerging personalities, their newly found mastery of their environment, their sweet (if somewhat slobbery) kisses.

But after the intense, 24-7 neediness of a newborn, I'm having trouble adjusting to this new reality. The reality in which Luke entertains himself and feeds himself and given half a chance, would probably prefer to change himself. After months of never being able to fold a single load of laundry from start to finish without having to take a break to nurse or play with a baby, I folded four loads the other day and then read a chapter of my book.

In theory, all this extra time is a great thing. Except...I kind of miss feeling needed all the time. And also? I remember now how much I hate folding laundry.