Welcome to the real parenthood

I haven’t been ignoring my blog on purpose, I’ve been ignoring it because I started working again, and as it turns out, starting a brand new job with a two-month old at home is a different version of the same type of insanity that halted my career two years ago when I developed a raging case of fibromyalgia and near adrenal failure.  The stress of working, moving into a new house, and raising my son caused me to have some pretty severe post-partum vertigo, which is funny when you think about it later, but at the time was annoying and bordering on dangerous because I occasionally fell over regardless of if I was sitting or standing.

The spins are behind me now, and I have settled into a routine work panic/new mom euphoria peppered with crying fits that seems comfortable.  I no longer have time to fold my laundry, see any of my friends, have meaningful conversations with my husband, or eat regular meals, but I think this may be what most moms experience.

Søren doesn’t seem to like it when I work, however, and now that he is 4-months old he has reserved his daily “unhappy hour” for when I am trying to write email, and he becomes most vocal when I am on late-night conference calls.

Did I mention that I work from home?  Sounds nice, right?  Well, working from home with an infant isn’t the cherry-flavored promised land that a lot of people imagine.  Many days I wish I could just put my baby in day care, get in my car, go to an office, have 8 to 10 hours of uninterrupted time in a soulless cubicle, and then drive home again in heavy traffic. Mostly I wish I could just spend 8 to 10 hours a day snuggling with him and reading cloth books. Working at home with an infant is twice the work, with no lunch break and no weekends. Due to constant interruptions it takes 16 hours to get 4 hours of work done.  Guilt is a constant companion – after all, in the heat of the moment, it’s hard to know who needs your attention more, a grumpy client, or a grumpy baby.

So I may be posting less frequently, the spelling may get worse, and the content may become more cynical.  I have already seen a progression in myself from new mom filled with wonder to worn out, shoulder-sagging stress ball.  Welcome to parenthood, eh?  The real parenthood.


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