Bjornin’ It

July 16, 2010

There is a sleeping baby attached to my chestal area via a complicated cotton contraption.  It really doesn’t look comfortable.  But he’s sleeping happily.  I wanted to buy a sling or an Ergo or any one of the other baby carriers recommended to me, but all Babies R Us had in stock was the Bjorn (with extra lumbar support!), and I was desperate, so a-bjornin’ I shall go.

Problem is I don’t feel like I should bend over very much, so I can only clean arm-level surfaces.  And I don’t think I should wash dishes with hot water, so that’s out.  And I can’t exactly change my clothes for dance class…

That’s right!  I’m going to dance tonight!  No, I am not really supposed to do that until six weeks after pushing the baby out, but DAMMIT I MUST DANCE!  And there are only two weeks left of my beloved Summer of Dance program at Phoenix Theatre, and I am NOT going to miss the whole thing just because of some minor vaginal trauma.

I may skip the stretches in second position, however.

Today I had a long stretch at home with just Moo, Juice and me – five hours – yes, I counted every minute.  It wasn’t easy for me.  Moo really wanted to play with me, but I needed to do things like dress myself and tend to Juice’s every demand (Hold me! No, put me down!  No, pick me up!  Ugh, someone burp me!  Aaaaah…).  It led to a few interactions like this:

Juice, laying on his playmat, decidedly BORED with the stinkin’ bells.  Will tolerate the second-rate dangly octopus for approximately three minutes before demanding prompt cuddling.  Moo, draped over the ottoman, making up a story about a ballerina princess attending preschool.  Me, in pajamas, hair wet, makeup half-on, longingly looking at cooling coffee on counter but knowing I have approximately three minutes to get Moo dressed while momentarily baby-free:

“Moo, c’mon, let’s get you dressed.”

“In twooo minutes, Mommy – I need to finish my story.”

“You know, you can get dressed yourself, and then you can do it whenever you’re ready!”

“No, I want you to help me.”

“Okay, then let’s go, quick, before Juice starts crying.”

I head back to her room and sit on the floor with skirt and shirt clutched in my hands.  I hear Juice getting louder.  No Moo.

“Moo!  Come on!”

“I’m cooooooming!”

I wait.  No Moo.

“Moo!  Now!  Come ON!”

“I aaaaaam!  I’m coming!”

“You’re coming TOO slowly!”


I call upon all my reserves of patience.  Juice gets louder.  No Moo.

“Moo!  You’re driving me crazy!”

“I’m coming, Mommy!”

She finally appears around the corner, scooting along oh-so-slowly on her bottom, grinning wide.

“I’m a snail!  Am I a good snail, Mommy?”

And I just can’t be mad.  I know she’s trying to push my buttons, but dammit, she IS a good snail.

“Come here, you crazy girl.” 

I pull on her shirt and skirt and race back out to Juice.  He’s batting at his bells and yelling at me furiously.

Come here, you crazy boy.”

Every day, here in our tiny world of diapers and bottles and ballerinas, is just a series of moments – feed my son, play with my daughter, hug them, tell them I love them, tell them I love them again, bathe them, clean them, and dream of the day Juice sleeps through the night.  I try to hold on to the lovely moments – my snail-girl, the hint of a smile of Juice’s face – and remember that the unlovely moments shall pass.  I’m already shocked that Juice is four weeks old.  I’ve got to hold onto this, even if part of me would just like to sleep through it.


One Response to “Bjornin’ It”

  1. pam b Says:

    look up wildflower diapers or zoolikins – not sure if the brick and mortar store changed names .. – they are in north scottsdale and SUPER awesome. they have many carriers for you to try on 🙂 but if you are happy with the bjorn then all the power to ya!

    hope you enjoyed your dance class

    and how the heck is he already 4 weeks?!?!

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