It’s Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood …. won’t you ride along with me? RIDE ALONG!
It’s Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood … to do … to see, won’t you ride along with me? RIDE ALONG!
Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala, in Daniel Tiger’s NEIGHBORHOOD!!
Mac singing the theme song to Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood.
We watch the show every single day. He’s managed to remember very few of the lyrics, but he’s learning how to fake it!
On Saturday, I went out. I straightened my hair, painted my nails, pulled a cute outfit from the closet that hasn’t seen the light of day in ages, and threw on some heels. I even applied lipgloss in place of my usual cherry chapstick. I sent my children over to my parents’ house and spent an entire evening hanging out with my friends at grown-up establishments drinking grown-up beverages and having grown-up conversation.
It. Was. Glorious.
I’m one of those women we love to hate. I’m that woman we all criticize when we’re young enough to not know any better or old enough to understand first-hand. I’m the woman who lost herself to motherhood. And I did so willingly. First and foremost, I am mom, and I love it. I love being the sun around which my children orbit. My time as their sun is so brief that I can’t help but lose myself to the role. But sometimes I miss just Jess and when I am simply myself again for an evening, I forget how much I’ve missed just Jess.
It is a strange thing to be me without my children. It is a strange thing to not worry about getting home before Fitz needs to eat again or before Mac goes to bed or before my husband has plans and wants to hand off the baby. To have an entire night stretch out before me without needing to worry about being anyone’s mom is a strange thing. But it was a wonderful thing and I enjoyed every single minute of it.
Sunday morning I slept in until 6:30. I texted my mom to check on the kids, was reassured, and slept for another hour (after only two alcoholic beverages over the span of 6 hours, I still managed to wake up with a headache). And then I quickly got out of bed, threw on some sweats, and rushed to go pick up my children who it turns out I did miss quite a lot.
Sometimes, I miss Jess. But I’m always here, always a little bit, always the essence of me. And I was happy to be back to being a little more Mom after a night of being just Jess.
Last night as I was feeding Fitz in bed around 10:00, the boob not in use started to leak all over my shirt and bra. Part of me knew I should get up and change, but a bigger part of me decided the leak wasn’t big enough to warrant disturbing the baby and leaving my warm bed. I’m a disgusting human being (don’t worry, I showered and washed everything this morning, so I’m not a complete slob).
Fitz has worn his jammies every day all day since his surgery. I’ve tried to justify it by claiming it’s more comfortable for his recovery, but I’m really just using his recovery to justify my laziness. I’m so sick of doing laundry, ya’ll!!
I’ve already started Christmas shopping and I hate myself for it.
I’m leaving Fitz overnight for the first time this weekend and I’m trying not to freak out about it. I’m not at all worried about him — I know he’ll be in good hands. But I am totally anxiety-ridden over how my princess baby is going to behave. Please let him eat well. Please let him be well behaved. Please let him sleep like a normal baby instead of the demon cuddler that he usually is.
I’m really excited to have my first real night out with friends since…oh my god I can’t even remember when. Grown up food, grown up drinks, and grown up conversation. It will be glorious. And I’m sure I’ll be desperate to pick up the kiddos the next morning. As much as I’m looking forward to an evening without them, I know I’ll miss their smiling faces like crazy.