Vincenzo went to Chicago with Kevin for the weekend, leaving me at home to do whatever I wanted with just the baby. Needless to say, there was an excess of this:
The best things about my weekend “alone” were eating and sleeping. I feel like I should add “pooping” to the mix because it seems to go, but anyone who’s had a baby knows that pooping during that first post partum month is kind of like going to a movie theater and not knowing if the movie ticket you just bought is for an easy rom-com or a grisly horror flick.
Eating sans toddler: No more of this fruit-at-every-meal thing; none of that mmm-I-love-broccoli-so-much-don’t-you thing. Nope; I ate the way I assume Renee Zellweger and everyone else without kids eats: chocolate chip pancakes all day, every day. Except sometimes when I ate fudgecicles. And lots and lots of McDonalds (I had four years of driving by them without so much as slowing down to make up for!)
Upon Vincenzo’s return I was bummed out to give up my natural eating habits for healthier ones…until I was making Vincenzo a blueberry pancake and noticed something. Maybe you’ve noticed it before too? How much a blueberry, when placed in the right environment, and at an early enough hour in the morning, bears a slight resemblance to a chocolate chip in the same environment at the same early hour? “Good morning, Vincenzo! Blueberry pancakes for breakfast…again!”
I’ve also learned to eat fudgecicles right in front of Vincenzo by carefully angling my body and strategically opening cupboards or bending down behind the counter to “pick something up.” I’m kind of the David Copperfield of fudgecicles now.
Sleeping sans toddler: Kevin and I both got way more sleep than we have all month—he because he was with a child who sleeps through the night and me because I was with the child who might not sleep at night but still sleeps 20 out of 24 hours every day. It was better than both Kevin and I sleeping sporadically throughout the night, waking up for frantic binky searches and trying to remember whose turn it is to nurse the baby, then fantasizing about naps all the next day. Because while I’ve discovered how to eat a fudgecicle right in front of Vincenzo’s eyes, it’s much harder to fake being awake in the middle of a nap. I’m still working on sneaking a nap in behind an open cupboard.
If Kevin and I ever do this whole baby thing again we’ll just plan on splitting up for six months afterwards. Who needs romance when you could have sleep?!