Hello.
You know, I think that my determination not to become a cliche of a person who talks incessantly about her child is really having a silencing effect on me. I probably always swore I would never become one of those people who now talks about nothing else, and obliviously believes that everyone else is equally interested in her adorable imp, and has no other identity outside of being a mom; but now that I am here with a six-week-old, I have to admit that the experience is totally consuming and that it's hard to think of other things to talk about. And I wish I wasn't stressing myself out feeling bad about that. Taking care of a newborn is pretty much a full-time job... if you can imagine a job that lasts 24 hours a day.
I feel like my eyeballs are falling out of my head with tiredness right now, and I should probably go to bed rather than think of things to say to my blog. But I wanted to say hello...and that someday, I will have other things to talk about. Someday, I will be introspective and analytical and reflective and witty and clever again. I think. But for now, I think I have to allow myself to be the slow-witted, literal-minded, tired, bovine creature I have temporarily become, and not beat myself up for it. So I guess this entry is mostly me talking to myself and giving myself a pep-talk... very fascinating. Perhaps I should attempt a sonnet about spit-up.
I feel like my eyeballs are falling out of my head with tiredness right now, and I should probably go to bed rather than think of things to say to my blog. But I wanted to say hello...and that someday, I will have other things to talk about. Someday, I will be introspective and analytical and reflective and witty and clever again. I think. But for now, I think I have to allow myself to be the slow-witted, literal-minded, tired, bovine creature I have temporarily become, and not beat myself up for it. So I guess this entry is mostly me talking to myself and giving myself a pep-talk... very fascinating. Perhaps I should attempt a sonnet about spit-up.
posted by Sarah Goss at 10:49 PM
10 Comments:
Baby spittle
Gets everywhere
In your mouth
In your hair
Baby poo-poo
Doesn't stink
She doesn't eat meat
She only drinks
Beat that, Karl Pilkington!
Deb rocks.
Ok, anyway, I think there is a small deception loosed on the world about new mothers. It is not at all weird that you want to talk about Daisy all the time right now; she's shiny and new and cute and completely dependant on you and demanding 99% of your time, of course she's the main topic of conversation. The problem arises when I call you and say, "Sarah! Something horrible has happened! I've lost my job and can't pay my rent." and you reply, "You know, that reminds me of last week when Daisy lost her nuk in her crib..." Now we all know you would never do that, you are way to kind and secure in yourself as a human outside of your role as parent. You are doing fine. (was that cerebral enough? :) )
Great poem, Deb, although the Marxist subtext is somewhat labored...
As far as your intellectual output, Sarah, I'd say you're doing just fine by running your thoughts through this blog. I'll second the point about Daisy being the center of your universe right now: where else would your attention be? I've really enjoyed your posts on your motherhood experiences thus far and found them witty and insightful. Keep up the good work.
Sarah--I was pretty much going to say what lumenatrix said. There's a HUGE difference between Daisy being the center of the your world (which NO ONE should question) and you being unconcerned when matters that don't involve Daisy arise with your friends. HUGE difference :-)
You're handling it BEAUTIFULLY.
And besides ... people who don't want to hear about Daisy are pure and simply dummies.
I supsect I may be classified as one of those people who talk about their children all the time, but I'm not sure why talking about children is less important than talking about other subjects (other work, sports, television), To designate as such is to silece women's participation in public discourse and to relegate the welfare of children to a special interest. Plus, who really wants to discuss my cerebral interests: trauma, marxism, and poststructuralism? So I say, speak up and refuse to have your hard work trivialized!
oops, that was supposed to just say Amy--although David and Adele agree!
Amy, I think you are completely right. I need to shut off these inner voices, or at least learn to argue with them better.
Deb, I love it. Not a sonnet, but that's okay... maybe a haiku next time?
Thank you for saying that, Beth. I am definitely not in danger of losing interest in my friends' lives, so that will not be a problem! I have been feeling absurdly self-conscious about the fact that *I* have little else to say about what I've been doing lately-- but it *is* absurd, because what else *would* I be doing? It is so much work to take care of a newborn baby.
But I would never lose interest in listening to what is happening in my friends' lives. That is not remotely a fear of mine. So your message reassures me!
PS
I almost forgot: Deb, I am very proud to say that baby spittle has not yet gotten in my _mouth_. It has definitely, however, been in my hair. And all over the shirts and hair of practically everyone who has held her. i actually get embarrassed on her behalf. How dumb is that?
All i can say is, thank god curdled milk does not smell as gross as you might think it would.
Smae thing happened to me with both babies. One does become somewhat bovine, as you said, and placid, and rather content with everything as long as you can keep everyone fed, clean, happy.
This is temporary. Enjoy the mindlessness. Give it another couple of months, and you will notice the brain cells slowly waking up from their topor.
(This is why certain portions of the male population have wanted to keep women pregnant as much as possible, because we're so scary when we have all our faculties.)
Post a Comment
<< Home