I’m not sure how this happened, but the calendar says our youngest is officially 2 months old today. The last eight weeks have been a total whirlwind, and now that the dust is settling a bit, here’s the rundown on our new reality. Actually, I can sum it up pretty easily: life revolves around the baby. And laundry. Piles and piles of laundry.
The adorable center of our universe – for now
So yeah, life revolves around the baby these days. That’s a given, right? Even with three older siblings and their busy little schedules—school and soccer practice and karate and demo team and homework and bed times—we’ve had to figure out how to make all of that work around when the baby eats and sleeps. And since she does those things whenever it pleases her, well, let’s just say that we’re fashionably late these days. For everything.
On a positive note, I’ve learned to prioritize mercilessly. When she naps, I have anywhere from 30 seconds to three hours to get stuff done, so as soon her eyes drift shut I immediately think, “What am I going to do?! Laundry? Bathrooms? Tackle that mountain of deadlines threatening to bury me?” I hover for a second, certain her eyes are going to snap open (because nine times out of 10 …), and then I usually start a load of laundry, grab my laptop and head upstairs to my favorite restaurant—the 3-year-old proprietor has a “coffee wif salt” specialty that I adore.
And her mountains of laundry
Seriously, how can such a tiny little person generate so much laundry? This child—like her siblings—makes a mess wherever she goes. And she doesn’t go many places! Clothes smeared in spit-up and breast milk are the norm around here—and I’m just talking about me. Then there are the little flaps on the harness of her car seat, her bouncer seat thing (seriously, what is this thing called?), our sheets (come on, you know we’re co-sleeping), the baby wrap, her blankets, her onesies—they all get nailed with spit-up and/or breast milk on the daily. Add it all up—and toss in school uniforms, practice jerseys, karate gis, the five outfits my five year old manages to cycle through between coming home from school and bedtime—and you’re talking laundry. Lots of laundry.
So this is our reality. Team Dreft and a toothless, pint-sized cutie-pie calling all the shots. Life is chaotic, exhausting, totally not relaxing—and seriously amazing.