they sure as hell weren’t kidding about the sleepless nights. i haven’t had any proper sleep for 1 week and 3 days now i’m practically a walking dead. but a happy one at that. which makes me a happy walking dead.
it’s not so bad, i guess. mainly because it’s also so worth it when i watch my baby’s tiny face and button nose and wandering eyes and a mouth that couldn’t seem to get enough of my boobs.
oh, yes. THE bOObs. now looking more humongous than ever. i’m amazed. i never knew they had it in ’em — that potential to grow and form cleavage and shit. it’s amazing.
until they start leaking milk through my shirt and i’m left walking around the house looking like a hobo who could also use some shower and maybe a bit of eyebrow makeup.
i’m thinking of sharing in here how my labor went. gayle’s the only one who seems to be interested as not a lot of people actually read my blog (which is good ‘coz it gives me a sense of obscurity amidst the publicity of the world wide web) but i had thought about it already before anyway. just as i thought about sharing a lot of things which i never got to because, you know,
the same excuse i tell myself when i start panicking over the mounting laundry and the floors that need to be vacuumed and the dishes that need to be washed and all other pending housework that’s doing my head in and making me wish we were living in the philippines where there’s the convenience of having a house help.
the best advice i got was two days ago from natalie, jeff’s client’s wife who has a 3-year old son of her own. we had a bit of a chat and it felt really nice to talk to somebody who’s been through this before and knows where i’m coming from.
her no-nonsense advice?
“fuck cleaning. rest when the baby’s sleeping.”
so here i am… blogging. lol.
(the dad is somewhere in the city rollerblading with his crew too so, yeah, baby’s been fed and chillin’ and we’re all here just doin’ our thang.)
but for real, though, me and my kilay are barely just surviving. (-.-)
*raven at birth