Yesterday Hubbie took Bebe for the day to give me a break. I couldn't wait to get out of there and was trying to hold back frustration when, at 9:30 am he was working on his computer and I was waiting to get ready and go. But then I felt guilty too because his work is bringing home the bacon. Not only am I not bringing home much bacon but Im not frying it up either. And feeling guilty that he works all the time - and was, in fact, working on editing photos for the current book. I even suggested that he take some time to work and I leave for my day out later. Gritting my teeth even as I suggested it. Because the mornings are the hardest for me. From 7am until lunchtime is the longest stretch. Probably because it isn't always broken up by playground or other activity, since it's been cold. And I'm just waking up.
I am not a morning person, while Bebe bounds out of bed and is raring to go. Showering always feels like a tremendous obstacle since Bebe can't stand me being out of her grasp - behind the shower door (even though she can see me), participating in an activity that she can't be part of. Bringing her into the shower isn't a great alternative, since she doesn't like the water showering over her, preferring baths. She wants me to carry her which is challenging enough on dry land (given her increasing size) but impossible in the shower, on the slippery floor, cradling a slippery babe.
Once I am through the shower, I feel like I've accomplished a major task. I wish I was one of those women who didn't feel the need to shower, or is satisfied with an evening wash. But a shower in the morning is for me like coffee is for most people. Absolutely essential to getting through the day.
Sometimes, I have delayed my shower to after my pre-lunch workout at the gym. Taking care of a baby really makes you appreciate the tiniest moments of peace. Showering in the open group shower at the gym, where the water flow requires constant pushing of the button to restart it, has become pure luxury. Showering 1) alone 2) without anyone whining, or worse, crying in hysteria for me to finish 3) under a sufficient supply of hot water . Showering in our apartment, with Bebe screaming as if she is under torture and banging on the shower door, I do my best to soap and rinse as quickly as possible, partly because of Bebe's impatience and partly because of the short supply of hot water (Definitely not enough for two showers and laundry, which I now wash on cold).
Going to the bathroom: 1) alone 2) without the door wide open to our apartment has become an unknown luxury, one that I never thought to appreciate before Bebe. I had heard mothers talk about it. Especially my mother (I now understand why she is so immodest about bathroom etiquette, something that has always embarrassed me).
Our WC is located between the door to the apartment and the kitchen. The other day, I was in the toilet, door wide open as Bebe ran in and out to "check on" me, and I realized that Hubbie was expected to return home momentarily with dinner guests. I had a half moment of panic at the vision of Hubbie opening the door, ushering in our guests to see me sitting on the toilet right in front of them.
I booked a massage at Les Bains de Marais, since I could then use the sauna, hammam as well and the price is about half that of a hotel spa. What I was most drawn to, after steaming, sauning and getting rubbed down was the "salon de repose", a dimly lit room filled with cushioned chaises, for lying down on and resting. Prior to baby I had always disregarded those rooms. who wants to go to a spa and lied down in a dark room? The point of going (not that I have ever done much of that) is to partake of the treatments, do some physical exercise and use the steam room. I can lie down at home, why do I want to do that in a spa? But that was before I had a busy little moppet enter my life, one whom requires my constant attention, interaction and caretaking, one who sleeps (until recently) on a schedule which allows for no more than 4 hours of shut eye at a time. Fine for her, she can sleep in the pram, at the supermarket, on the bus. Whenever she is tired, she can just fall asleep. Not like mama who must scurry around accomplishing all those things that used to take up a full day, in the broken moments when baby is asleep.
Why didn't anyone tell me about these sleep rooms a year ago, when I actually fainted from sleep-deprivation? had I realized, I would have gone directly to the spa, instead of dawdling in the Jewish museum out of a sense of obligation to "take in some culture" and possibly learn something other than the latest Dora the Explorer song. I knew that taking care of a baby would be exhausting but I never fully appreciated that the first 15 months I would be so sleep deprived and my back would ache so much that standing up is difficult. That said, why wasn't I clued in to the benefits of massage and a dedicated sleep room?
I had arrived at the spa in time to have a massage, steam and allow for a good 90 minutes of nap time. honestly, had I known about this previously, I would have scheduled weekly sessions there just to lie down in that room and sleep for hours.
Lying down on a cushion (that was not sagging with bars and coils poking through as our new sofabed is). I have been sleeping on the sofabed in the sejour. Bebe has become an increasingly noisy sleeper, not only tossing and turning but crying out in distress throughout the night. She seems to be completely asleep because when I run to check on her, in response to her cries, she is sound asleep, arms splayed out horizontally across her crib. Recently, I slept in our room for one night. Neither Hubbie nor I signed on for sleeping in separate rooms when we moved back to our one bedroom apartment. (Although secretly I have enjoyed having my own space, especially on most days when Bebe is attached to me from the moment she wakes until she sleeps). It was the worst night I have had. I spent the whole night in a semi sleep, constantly waking up to Bebe's rustlings, cries of distress. She sounds like she's doing battle in her sleep. not upset, just vehement. Clay seems to sleep right through it. Even in the next room I can hear her but it is a bit more muted so less distressing.
The "salon de repos" is a blessing. I never before appreciated so much being in a quiet room, where i was guaranteed to be undisturbed. No pitter patter of little feet. No cries of protest right outside the door. No "mamamamama". No little hands pulling on my shirt insisting "mama! up up!" (as soon as Isabelle hops into my bed in the morning, she is pulling on me, insisting "mama! up up!" and making her manga sign . I rouse myself with a pang of guilt. Oh my gosh she is so hungry, I had better hurry! How she is that hungry I do not know, since after a full dinner, last night, she then consumed a scrambled egg during story time right before bed.
I lied down on the cushion and willed myself to relax. It was more difficult than I had anticipated. I couldn't get used to the idea that I was in a room alone and would be left undisturbed. And that I wouldn't be cringing at noises outside the door (protests against diaper changes, getting dressed, Hubbie's voice insisting "mama is night night" while Bebe cries for me). I would pay the entrance fee just to be able to go in and lie down!
