I am overwhelmed.
Why did I think it would be a good idea to teach theatre, teach yoga, run a small religious school, and work on writing a play in the months after having a baby? Not to forget my family, the house, and myself. Oh dear.
Up until January 6, 2011 (when Abraham was born), I always kept myself very busy and did well. The busier the better, most of the time. I carefully packed my days with all the things I enjoyed.
I have not only added “Bio-mom” to my list of labels (because I was already a step-mom), but moved it way, way to the top of the list. I love it and wouldn’t trade it, but it is overwhelming. Abraham wants to be held when he is awake, and he wants to be nursing while he is asleep. So much touching. Which is what I wanted, but I didn’t realize how intense it would be.
In the short times that Abraham is not touching me, I am desperately doing things I can’t do with him: showering, laundry, dishes, working, yoga. Yoga comes last.
I am about to turn 30 (which I was thinking was making me an adult for real, but in fact, I think it is really young). I was feeling like I needed to do things I’ve been wanting to do: have a real job again (instead of 4 small ones), join boards, make a big difference. But I think what I am realizing is that I want fewer commitments now. I have time. Hopefully lots of time. I can get a real job when I’m 40 and still get to do it for a long time. I can join boards when I’m 50 and still serve my community for a long time. I can make a big difference when I’m 60 and still be younger than my friend Lane was when she joined the Peace Corps.
What has been my hurry? Why are we all in such a hurry?
I don’t anticipate having more children (sorry, Mom) because 3 is enough. But it means Abraham will be my only baby. Which is ok, babies are hard. But I don’t want to fret about his sleep because I need to do things during his nap time. I want to cuddle up and sniff his little head.