Getting Busy

It's not what you're thinking, of course (dirty minds!). That is but a fond memory for now. I'm talking about how full our days have become from a series of busy nothings. We're supposed to be resting, but I feel a compulsive and irresistible need to clean and reorganize everything in sight (as apparently and suddenly on day 11 does A as I sit here watching her mop). I labeled the shelves in the fridge, knocked all the icicles down from the roof and even brought down the bio-hazard that is the bottom of the toothbrush cup to wash. I am trying to make the bed in the "morning" as well (time varies), to at least act like there is a difference between day and night. I start each day with am ambitious list and though I rarely stop moving, I can't seem to cross many things of it. And I have to write everything down, sometimes even reminders to bathe and apply lotion to A's hospital soap ravaged hands, or I forget my thoughts/purpose between the couch and the fridge, or the couch and the upstairs.

We are both struggling with lowering our expectations of productivity (we're doers). It just isn't possible to accomplish tasks the way it was BB (before Ben). I guess I haven't really given up trying though, since on my list for today is painting the remaining wall in the reno, returning some things to Rona and Home Depot and going to work for a couple hours to clean up the counseling load mess I left behind due to Mr. Early Pants. Yesterday I even did my morning yoga for the first time. That is of course all on top of getting dressed (a challenge since we have a spit-uppy baby but I don't want to look too shlumpy), eating (I have to put that on my daily list), changing his cloth diapers, doing the 4th load of laundry (I dread our next hydro bill), and getting A whatever she needs while feeding the wee man. Plus, there are visitors to visit with, breastfeeding books to read and videos to watch, 400 ways to learn to wrap my baby around me in his Moby (9 months in A, 9 months on me), Ben's temperature to check for the 12th time just in case, choosing what cute outfit to put on him (since he pooed through the last one), keeping track of his "input" and "output" on a chart, noting who gave us what gift and so on and so on and so on. A veritable holiday, you say? I love it.

E