Free Time…

I am blogging. This is my first free few minutes in days and I am pushing plastic squares that represent my thoughts. This is amazing. My mother used to tell me that once I had a baby I would view work as a break. I never thought I would be that mom that would want a break from my baby. While it is true that I would rather be at home than at work, I still need a break. Quite honestly, I would be happy with a couple hours a week. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. It’s different though when you’re a breastfeeding mom. Especially if your baby is going through that clingy stage, wants nobody but YOU and you don’t even have a chance to pump milk to allow someone else the opportunity to feed that baby. Don’t get me wrong, my husband is a wonderful father and will offer to take Colton as often as it appears as I need a break. But THERE is my downfall. For some reason I feel a sense of guilt when I ask him to hold him even if I have to use the restroom. I know that this is a problem. I know that I’m creating this problem, but I don’t want to be perceived as not being capable of doing this on my own. Next month my husband will start his own business and I’ll be at home by myself. My fear is that if I cannot handle cooking, cleaning, taking care of the dogs, baby and myself right now, how in the HELL am I going to manage when I’m “by myself?” I feel an urge to prove to myself and even my husband that I am the multitasking, super woman, I-can-do-it-all queen of the house. 

It’s very easy to forget that taking time to take care of myself is taking care of my son too. If I don’t take the time to shower, take vitamins, eat and even drink water (I’ve gone nearly an entire day without a sip…), I’m doing my son a HUGE injustice. I have to learn that crying is ok (and healthy). I have to learn that it is OK to ask for help and doing so doesn’t make me any less of a woman or a mom. 

What do I do to remember this though? Do I tie a ribbon around my boob as a reminder to take a few minutes to myself? I hate waiting until I break down and simply can’t take anymore to finally act. 

Well, if you excuse me, I’m going to take the next few minutes to use the restroom and pee at a normal (un-rushed) stream.

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