I'm not insane yet, but I'm working on it. Here I am, rocking my kid in Small City, USA, waiting for an epiphany. Everyone told me that "motherhood changes everything" and "you look at everything in a different way," that "nothing matters but the baby" and "you won't be able to imagine life without him." All admirable sentiments. And in my case, all a load of hooey.
Granted, motherhood changes a lot, but not everything. I'm still the cranky, opinionated, Snapple-slurping, self-indulgent, half-crazed woman I always was. Of course I'm crazy about my kid. A major cutie. Perfect physical speciman. Mental giant.
Maybe it's the sleep deprivation. Maybe next month I'll be using seven different soaps to bathe my kid and a special brush for his ears. For now, I dump some baby wash in some warm water, slop it all over the baby (and myself) and hope for the best. He seems to like it, anyway.
Ron has been amazing. My labor and delivery went beautifully, but I developed complications afterwards that kept me in the hospital for five days. Plus a half-dozen trips to women's triage afterwards. So I was not a happy camper, and Ron was the primary caregiver during that time. By the time I took over, many of the routines were set, and that's kept me from being too obsessive.
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