My New Year’s resolution was to write every day. And as resolutions so often go, I’ve posted what, maybe twice now? Starting the year strong!
But I’m renewing my commitment to write more often. Between the avalanche of scary news and Chicago’s perpetually gray skies, I’ve been feeling pretty blah, and writing or working on an illustration always cheers me up. Also, I’m pretty sure my Bravo addiction is not helping me feel great about myself, so let’s redirect those hours, shall we, Laura?
Yesterday at work, a colleague related a conversation with a writer in our company. When asked how he found the inspiration for his work, he replied that he does not rely on inspiration–that he is a professional and has a process: sit down, then do the work.
It occurs to me that there was something to be learned from this professional. Besides how to limit my use of exclamation marks, smiley faces and “haha”s as parts of sentences.
I have such short, precious windows in which I can sit down and work on this blog, and I often find myself searching for something big to say. But the reality is, life isn’t very big these days. Not how I used to think of it, anyway.
I’ve realized that in our pre-baby lives, time for Jason and I used to be marked from trip to trip, dinner to dinner. Both travel and dining out—two of my greatest passions!—are extremely limited these days. As it turns out, it’s possible to never leave a two block radius if that radius includes a Whole Foods and Target. Especially if it’s January in Chicago, and you’re completing a Whole30.
But despite our days looking pretty uneventful if viewed through my pre-baby lens, the truth is that I’ve never been happier. (Despite my winter blahs :))
Maybe while I can’t find anything traditionally big to say, I should just sit down every morning, and start writing. If my intention with this blog is just to capture life as a new mom, travel, and restaurants, well—I can do one of the three really well right now. Especially if my suspicions and Pinterest posts everywhere are true, and the little moments are the ones that matter the most.
So on that note, here’s three little things on my mind lately.
Despite being pretty okay with our—shall we say “limited”?—social calendar, we’ve interviewed and liked a babysitter.
We’re goin’ out! 5-10PM this Saturday. Watch out, world! I’m obviously excited for some one-on-one time with Jason, but I also think this is an important development for another reason. According to the almighty Internet and a few recent meltdowns, Hudson has reached the age at which separation anxiety begins to rear it’s head. If I’m honest, I sort of love the idea that a little human loves me so much he cries when I’m gone.
However, the grown-up in me recognizes that a.) it’s actually horrible for all involved and b.) it’s time to expand his world a little bit beyond six-ish people. The amount of skepticism in his assessing stares when meeting strangers is apparent and hilarious, so I have my fingers crossed that the pro we found will help both Hudson and Jason and I navigate The First Time We Leave Him With A Babysitter That’s Not Family. I have high hopes for all involved! And for a great glass (or three) of red wine and two open bar stools for J and I.
Speaking of red wine, I just wrapped up the Whole30, a 30-day healthy eating “challenge.”
Jason and I first did this in January 2014, and by the end of the month I’d dropped ten pounds, felt amazing, and preached the magic of Whole30 to anyone who would grant me a soapbox. In the years since, we’ve stuck with eating Whole30-ish about 80% of the time. We decided to do it again in full this January, and it’s been a completely different experience for me; thank you, breastfeeding hormones.
I have to eat so much healthy food to keep up my supply for Hudson that I did not lose a single. pound. And while I used to proclaim the many benefits beyond weight loss (energy! great skin! great sleep!) during my Whole30 missionary work…. let’s be real. If I’m not having a single glass of wine for a month, that needle on the scale better be heading to the left. Since it didn’t, I am now totally convinced that there is no point in fighting my hormones on the weight loss front until I’m done breastfeeding.
So: it’s over, I did it, go me. But, ugh. I’m not eating a sweet potato for a month.
And finally—making friends as an adult is hard. And weird.
This could totally be a full post (or a sad, sad series of posts) but I’ve been trying to find mom friends in my neighborhood. My best friend in the world has a beautiful baby girl just six weeks older than Hudson, and going through this experience with her has been a total life-saver for my sanity. But our pregnant dreams of regular playdates with our baby besties have been crushed by the reality of Nap Jail: the early months in which babies nap 3-4 times a day, with no regularity, and without which are tiny but terrifying monsters. So despite them living just a few neighborhoods away in Wicker Park, they might as well live in Alaska.
Eventually, I know this will work itself out, but in the meantime, I have been on the hunt for a mom friend within a few blocks’ radius for short playdates and walks. It has been spectacularly unsuccessful, despite really putting myself out there (barf) with multiple mom groups. Jason reminded me that it’s sort of like college or high school again: just being in the same boat (in this case, new motherhood) isn’t necessarily enough to forge a real connection with everyone in else in your vessel, but eventually–you find your people.
I don’t think I have another awkward group play date in me, so here’s hoping for a meet-cute at Starbucks with another new mom and baby.
Cheers to the little things, friends! Hope you’re having a great week.