Crazy as it may sound, there’s an upside to the tiredness a new baby brings to the mix.
A whole lotta not caring.
Kind of liberating, actually. After Emil was born I remember fist pumping in the living room after making an appointment for him –which required a phone call in Norwegian. I spoke so much more Norwegian after he was born, not because it was better than before, but because i was just too flipping tired to care if it came out right or not.
Unfortunately, my language skills are worse than ever now, so the not-caring has spilled over into personal appearance. You know, where the stain count on your shirt just has to be under three in order for it to be acceptable to wear in public. Last week for the 17th of May celebration I found, miracle of miracles, a nursing-friendly dress in my closet that was CLEAN. (What’s even more remarkable is that I wasn’t even nursing when I bought that dress. That’s a cunning subconcious right there.) I don’t remember washing it, but I must have. Honestly, finding that dress and then shoes that matched was so big of a victory that I didn’t even care that my legs were dry pasty white and i’d had no time to put on makeup. Those pasty white legs paraded through town thinking that they weren’t nearly as pasty white as they could be. (What does that even mean? Pasty white is pasty white.)
Being tired lets me pretend that we DO live in America and all dress codes fly, so I happily and confidently go grocery shopping with crazy hair and sweatpants.
Being tired lets me pretend that I’m best friends with the whole world so that it’s not a big deal if I forgot to put in nursing pads and start leaking milk all over the place.
Being tired lets me have an internal giggle at the fact that I might have accidentally flashed someone at the grocery store while trying to pacify a screaming infant in the cereal aisle. (I will not even get into the ordeal that that particular shopping trip was.)
Sure, I can’t remember anything and speaking coherently in any language has become kind of a challenge, but this whole minimal-thinking-about-appearance thing has been pretty great. Be thou gone forever, vanity