The masked man

 

It's been a week.



Feel free to come over and fold that clean laundry piled on the couch and don't speak to me while you do so.

 

This makes it look way more dramatic than it was. Eric just got really sick and couldn't go near Dalton. He stayed quarantined in our bedroom, basically shivering and hacking and sleeping like the dead. I had a ton of respect for single moms before, then even more as a mom, and now even more. I don't think I could do it. And I wasn't even actually alone! When Eric was awake, he could at least yell out suggestions like a coach from the sidelines if I was having a tough time.

No one can say he wasn't committed.

Truthfully, even before that, I was having a bit of a hormone attack again. Friday was one of those days and Eric had to work late. When they say it takes a village to raise a child, I'm pretty sure that village's job is keeping the mother sane, at least for the first few months. I had two of my wonderful friends drop everything just to come over and sit around to cheer me up, and it was a major lifesaver. Texts, emails, phone calls and even Facebook comments from my mom, sister, and other friends play a huge part too. Even if I don't believe it in the moment, just hearing someone say that I am a good mom or that it will be ok makes a big difference.

I have a pretty awesome role model. This arrived from my own mom to brighten my day.

Well, the flowers, I provided the baby.

My problem, currently, is just the crushing weight of responsibility. Dalton was up every hour the other night. Yeah, I wanted sleep, but I felt calm and it didn't excessively upset me, he's a baby. I just feel like he's the best, and he deserves the best, and it's scary trying to commit to a lifetime of being the best. I know no parent can be perfect, but it's hard to resist the temptation to want that for your child, and to feel like you're coming up woefully short because it's just all so new.

 



We call this driving his imaginary motorcycle.



That escalated quickly. Let's talk about fun stuff. Christmas is in two weeks. Holy crap. I know everyone is saying this all the time, but seriously November passed in the blink of an eye. I have a big to do list of random gifts to order and stuff and let's just say I'm not nailing it. I finally ordered our stockings today so they will barely make it in time for Christmas. I am doing an excellent job listening to Christmas music a minimum of 13 hours a day and eating cookies.

 

And dressing Dalton in seasonally appropriate outfits

 

 My BFF Carolyn and I kept it rolling and went to another Christmas themed event last weekend.

 

As you can tell from this picture, we clearly did this solely for the benefit of the children.

It was pouring rain, so Eric zipped Dalton into his jacket and got to try out the wonderful world of pregnancy.

In between diaper changes and feedings, we listened to some live Christmas music and most importantly, tried fried cheesecake.



Prepare yourself for cuteness overload.



Baby BFFs.

One other exciting thing last weekend, besides a delicious Sunday breakfast of Costco samples, was a postpartum running PDR (personal distance record). 5 miles. Once upon a time, I would look at a 5 mile run on a training plan and be all like "sweet, an easy day, I can sleep in!". Now I looked at it more like I used to view a 20 mile run. But I made it, and while slow, I took no walk breaks and fit it in during just one Game of Thrones episode. I know some #motherrunners bounce back much faster, but at 10 weeks postpartum, that was a huge accomplishment for me. Haven't done it since then, but I have high hopes. I remember when I used to like running outside. I really underestimated how much I like watching TV while exercising.


Where are you on the holiday preparedness scale? 10 is "I do all my shopping in August" and by the way I hate you,  1 is "thank freaking god for Amazon prime".