So I’m halfway through a treatise on how I don’t find motherhood very hard and, even though I wasn’t being smug, it came back to bite me on the butt anyway. Last week was just impossible.
I have a baby that insists on crawling all over me whenever I’m within reach. If he can’t reach me (for instance, when I’m in a chair, he pulls himself up as close as he can get and hollers. And when I pick him up, he immediately goes for my Touch, keyboard, mouse, pen, knitting needles… essentially anything I’m trying to work with.
I got a few things done on my days off, but not a lot. Then the weekend and misery in the incarnation of the coronavirus struck. I was sick for my sister’s entire spring break visit, and didn’t get to spend any real time with her. Fortunately she was happy to play with the baby, allowing me to be miserable all by my lonesome.
So yeah, last week was a buster of a week, with a lot of stuff I wanted to do that didn’t get done, and a lot of sickness and grumpiness and crankiness.
And, looking back, what I regret the most was not my failure to clean the bathroom or get the laundry done, but that I spent so much time working on a silly new blog re-theme and banner, and didn’t snuggle my baby at every opportunity that presented itself.