Chronicles of a New Mum: What Do I Do All Day?
Rise and Shine!
We’re up anytime between 6 and 8am, depending on when she woke up during the night for her last feeding. Coffee is brewing (bravo, husband!), the birds are chirping, and I change diaper #1 of 3,000 for the day.
I feed the baby and then we venture into the kitchen so I can make some breakfast. I buckle her into her bouncy seat and pop some bread in the toaster. I’m starting to see a pattern that anytime I attempt to make something for myself in an oven or on a stove, the baby will need me immediately, which obviously is what happens next.
Stop the toaster, leave coffee un-sipped on the counter (where it will remain until I notice it again at 2pm) and tend to baby’s crying.
Decide it’s time to venture out of the house so I can get some fresh air and she can snooze in the stroller.
Getting a baby dressed sounds like something that should just take a minute or two, right? Here’s how it usually goes:
- Dress the baby in a onesie. Upon completing the zillionth snap (seriously why didn’t I get the kind with zippers?), she poops.
- Change her diaper and commence snapping onesie.
- Baby casually spits up out of the side of her mouth during this time. Notice that the top of her onesie now has spit up on it.
- Debate just leaving it on/pretending I didn’t notice.
- Decide to be a good sport and change her clothes.
- Undress baby and grab another onesie from the drawer. Notice the baby has peed during this one-minute timespan since her last diaper change.
- Explain to her that although she has a cute bum, you don’t need to see it this many times in five minutes.
- She flashes a huge smile and I wonder if she’s a baby genius that already has a full grasp of the English language.
- Change the diaper, change the clothes, and decide not to change out of my Pjs.
Approximately one full hour later, pack the diaper bag.
Gather all possible things that a baby needs for a 12 minute walk to the coffee shop. This includes: burp cloth, stroller blanket, pacifier(s), bottle with pumped milk, cooler in case she doesn’t need the bottle, extra onesie, wipes, diaper cream, and of course diapers. Almost forget my keys, wallet, and phone.
Get the baby dressed, Phase 2.
Put on baby’s outerwear – a warm, fuzzy coat and a hat, neither of which she is pleased about wearing.
Leave the house!
Scoot out before she can poop or spit up again. Buckle her into the stroller and joyfully sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star while she dramatically cries because her hat is covering her eyes. My neighbor getting his newspaper gives me a strange look. It’s because I have a terrible voice and still have a burp cloth draped over my shoulder.
All of this has happened and it’s not even 10am. You’ve got to be kidding me.
I’ll spare you the play by play of the rest of the day. But it’s a cycle of feeding, napping (her, not me), making farm animal noises (me, not her), tummy time, spit-up/diaper blowout cleanup, and iPhone picture taking. Repeat cycle at least 48 more times until my husband comes home.
Hand him baby. Pour glass of wine. Pat myself on the back for mastering onesie snaps one-handed and actually emptying the dishwasher.