still no dusting

I recently read something on someone’s blog, and I apologize if it was yours, about how the writer was afraid or hesitant or something about having babies, because having babies sucks the “youness” out of you. As if the moment that you give birth results in both being responsible for another human life, and you losing yourself.

It made me wonder how having the Loaf has changed me. And I find it interesting that I inadvertently used the words “losing yourself” in the paragraph above, because I meant it to come out in an ironic way. Like “losing yourself” is some painful, irreversible occurrence that happens just once and there is no cure. But as it turns out, I think that’s what it is.

So let me just say, after that incredibly long preface, that when I had a baby, I did lose myself. And I don’t see one thing wrong with that. I know what whoever it was that said it meant it to mean you care less about things that you once had a great passion for. I know they probably meant to say that the little quirks you had disintegrate under the new title of mom.

I would like to say, to whoever that was, or whoever might think that, that it was not the case for me. I still make time for myself. I still love going to movies, and I still love blogging and taking obnoxious pictures…

…and the only thing that having a baby has changed about all of that is that now while I’m at the movies, I have a little gal in the seat next to me, staring at the screen, shaking her head back and forth, trying to catch every detail. When I blog, it’s usually about her, and when I take obnoxious pictures, she’s never too far away. And someday she’ll have a greater appreciation for the Biebs because of it.

There is a fun little game that Papa Bear and I like to play, except it’s not that fun and we’re trying to break ourselves of it. But it’s called the “Who’s Job is Harder?” game and the answer is, regardless of who says it first, is “Mine.” I usually win when it gets to lunch breaks. “I wish I had a lunch break,” I told PB yesterday, and he replied, “You do when she naps!”

And that’s the thing. He thought he had me. But one way that having a baby, or losing myself, has changed me is that breaks are not really breaks. Naptime is a good time for me. I do get a break. But not from having a baby. Not from worrying about her. Not from wanting to make sure she’s okay, and she’s sleeping okay, and that she’s not too warm or too cold or has her head smashed up in the corner of the crib with no way to get out (this happens often).

So yeah, I lost myself when I had a baby. But it’s really not so bad. So person, whoever you are, that wanted to make sure you don’t lose track of yourself by having a baby, let me quell your concerns. You absolutely will. And some days–most days, very likely–it just might make you insane. It is very, very probable that you will not go one day without wanting to scream, or at the very least, lock yourself in a soundproof room, eating your weight in cheesecake, watching bad TV on Bravo.

Essentially, having a baby means that you are going to make up and sing the most ridiculous songs imaginable. The lyrics will contain reference to baby butts, poop, and snotty noses. You are going to come up with retarded nicknames for your baby’s butt, boogers, poop, and pee. You are going to figure out that sometimes the most excitement you will have in a day is bath time, and that the only time you have to yourself is going to include the ambient sounds of a baby screaming to be picked up. By noon, you will be able to identify at least three stains on your clothing that each came from different bodily functions (shoulder snot, lap puke, pee leg), and you will likely not get around to dusting your bookshelves. Ever.

And you know what? You’re probably gonna love it.

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