I discovered something at 3:45am this morning, during one of Roisin's many (many, many, many) feedings....
I am NOT Super Mom!
Okay, admittedly I already knew this about myself. However, this is the first time I am coming forward publicly with my confession. Now that the cat's out of the bag I guess you'll all be looking at me a little differently; perhaps not taking my blog as seriously as you did before.
The first 2 weeks of Roisin's birth seemed to go so smoothly, and then I "recovered" from my cesarean. I'm kind of kicking myself in the butt for recovering so quickly. If I were smart I would have acted like this was the worst c-section ever and that it would take me the full 3 months of my maternity leave to recover. But no, instead I had to be hard headed and determined to heal quickly so I could jump on the Super Mom bandwagon as soon as possible. Well as much and as wonderfully as I have healed I keep trying to conjure up some really great excuses to be able to lock myself in the room and sleep all day.. if only for one day!
"One of my stitches came loose and oh, the pain! The agony!" ...Nah, that won't work. They were dissolvable stitches and had all dissolved before I even left the hospital.
"My incision is badly infected!" ...No, I just saw the doctor on Tuesday and she told us she couldn't even see the incision because it healed so well.
"I'm sick?" ...if you're not running a fever the family still needs you.
"My back went out on me?" ...take some of your leftover pain killers and suck it up!
"I'm tired?" ...Nope.
"The dog ate my homework!" ...WHAT??!
"I'm dead." ...............................................................................Liar.
I guess there's no way around it, I am officially an ACTIVE member of the Mommy club again, and this time I've been promoted to Level 2 (as in, I now have two children instead of just 1). This is much more challenging than Level 1. I have so much more respect than I ever did before for my friends who keep spitting out a boat load of children. Now these women are ingenious! They have it all figured out: the more kids you have, the more "help" you have (the term slaves would be politically incorrect). Also, the more recovery time you get! DUH! It's almost worth the 9 months of hormonal roller coasters, followed by the worst pain you've ever had to go through in your life.
If I could have some extra hands to delegate my daily obligations to I'd say that would bring me very close to being Super Mom:
"Thing #1 (of course, one downfall to having a lot of children is keeping track of their names), you are cooking dinner tonight. I'd like some 3-cheese pasta with steamed garden vegetables drizzled in a sweet balsamic vinaigrette dressing and a side of garlic bread sticks. Thing #2, here is the mop and vacuum cleaner... you missed a spot. Thing #3, hop online and pay all of the bills for me. Thing #4... Thing #5... Thing #6... blah blah blah... Hey Thing #12, your sister's hungry! While you're at it, pump another bottle for me! Oh wait....."
I guess I got carried away, daydreaming. Back to reality, Mediocre Mom!
I'll get there some day.