A while back I told my BFF that all I really wanted was 30 minutes to myself. But I totally waste it sleeping or showering when I get it, so what that means is…
I totally need more than 30 minutes a day. To myself. Minus a baby. And minus a husband.
Don’t get me wrong - I absolutely ADORE my child. And I suppose, the Danish Boy… but…
OMG I want some time ALONE!
Let’s take dinner.
An average dinner is one of us eating while one entertains the baby (we’ve had a rare meal or two where she entertains herself, but alas, dinnertime is also Cranky Baby time) and while I take the baby upstairs to play or something so she doesn’t fuss, the DB stands by my chair while I eat, bouncing an increasingly unhappy baby.
Ever try to eat while your child makes unhappy grunts?
Damn near impossible.
I try to not be That Mom who tells the unfortunate father what to do… but COME ON, walk with the baby, talk to the baby, do something with the baby that IS NOT IN THE DINING ROOM! Let me eat in peace!
Let’s take last night.
Last night I scarf as fast as I can while he sits with the grumpy baby, across from me, so she can stare at me with plaintive eyes. “Mommy, this man will not entertain me! I’m bored! Hold me! I miss you and your funny faces!! Please?” And having Not Finished My Beer, I scooped her up and away. An HOUR later, I head back to the dinning room, cause you know, my Not Finished Beer remains to be finished and I’m thinking, maybe I can bounce the baby while drinking it, I’m multitalented. I rock. I’m THE MOMMY!
He’s read the newspaper.
The newspaper.
Dammit man, I eat in 10 minutes flat so you can take an HOUR for a leisurely meal?
ARGH!
*** To be fair, I could also write a post about how a few nights ago the DB washed all the dishes while I was trying to feed the baby to sleep and how on Saturday mornings he often takes her for long walks so I can sleep a bit longer. I kept repeating this to myself last night so that I didn’t take a frying pan to his head. He's still alive, so I guess it works. ***
Hee hee! Brings back memories of my own little spawn and my own Danish Boy. He 'solved' that problem by giving me "personal time". Ideally, it should have been me just having an-hour-not-having-to-think-about-the-baby, but since he sucked at entertaining, their "daily walk" began when my son was about 2-3 months old. Even now (3 yrs later), that's the definition of "personal time", and whatever I do with my "personal time" (whether it's finishing up the cooking, washing up the dishes, cleaning the house, playing PS games or reading a book), is totally up to me. The flip side is that HE would also get "personal time".
ReplyDeleteYou could try suggesting it to your Danish Boy.
What ever works :) Keep on keeping on!
ReplyDeleteV - great idea! Today they went for a walk. I was all "you, here, baby, now get out!" and they went. And I made a salad to go with dinner and even managed to do Monday's crossword puzzle. Bliss!
ReplyDeleteYeah... the break helps.. and after getting the breather, you can't WAIT to see the kid, again. You might suggest it as a daily (or every-other-daily activity).
ReplyDeleteYou know, for all that shared custody sucks sometimes, that first hour after she's been whisked away by her father is sheer bliss. It's quiet, I am alone with my thoughts...it's awesome!
ReplyDeleteWhile I don't recommend shared custody in your case, obviously, but I do love the idea of "Mommy time" and "Daddy time." It's a hard balancing act, and easy to say he should be the responsible parent the second he walks in the door (my cousin has this issue too because she's home with the kids and he works) but he needs time to unwind, too. Blurgh....marriage and parenthood is hard, yo!