I was going to post yesterday but never got around to it. Subject: the breast infection that wasn't. I nipped the darn thing in the bud, using baby contortion exercises that Lucy seemed to have fun with. My midwife told me to get rid of plugged ducts by pointing the baby's chin at the blockage; yesterday that meant Lucy draped over my shoulder while I lay on the floor. This is a lot easier to do now that she can hold her body and head up. I tried it with a six-week old and wondered what the hell my midwife was talking about.
But now that it's not yesterday anymore, and is fast approaching tomorrow, I have other subjects on the brain.
One. Bedtimes seem to be taking longer. This may be due to Lucy's development--she's probably on the verge of walking or something--or it could be due to the time change. We have not changed her schedule one whit--just the clocks have changed. But I Think She Knows. Somehow. She's been cranky the last two days and I think she figured out that the world is kind of wacky. That's one smart kid.
Two. Dyami rode his bike to the train station today. And then biked from Sorrento Valley to work. I am extremely proud of him; he's athletic, but not super active nowadays, since he has to sit at a desk most days and help me do baby care the rest of the time.
Three. We joined a CSA! Strawberries are comin'! Strawberries are comin'!
Four. And slightly more serious. I had one of my Sunday afternoon melancholies this week. It's just hard adjusting to motherhood. It's hard not feeling isolated. I have made some dear new friends, but they are all still *new* and my old friends are still my friends but they are all *old* (ie, from my old life) and no one fits just right yet. Or perhaps I don't fit anything quite right yet. And I can do *more* than I could a few months ago, but it's still not very much. I would love to serve at church somehow, or serve in San Diego somewhere, but really, I am serving at home right now and that has to be enough. Constraints! I feel like Black Beauty, learning to take the bit for the first time. I am not used to not having the use of my head.
I am trying to be patient. I lived abroad in Argentina years ago, and I remember feeling exactly this way for months--except worse. I think I didn't have a real conversation with anyone for about three months. (No exaggeration--I started talking to myself while I walked because I just had so many words to use up and no one to give them too. People looked at me funny). And by six months, I had some friends, but only sort of. But by ten months I had a whole life that was wrenching to leave. And friends that I still keep in contact with today. So I can expect that this foreign experience will take time to develop, too.
And I'm lucky enough to have a husband who comes home to me every day, and familiar faces around every week, and my own bed and house, and a car, and a beautiful daughter. All much richer and more comforting than my rented room in Buenos Aires with walls I papered with magazine clippings to keep me company.
But still. It sucked to wait for a life then, and it sucks now.
I want a life. It's official!
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