Several weeks ago, I had to make my 6 week postpartum appointment. I scheduled it for 11:30am thinking that by 6 weeks out, I'd be so much more organized and efficient that it would be no problem to shower get Nathan dressed, fed, feed myself and get through the park by then.
Snort!
I am no more organized, but right now I am feeling a little like SuperMom. I woke up late. Really late. I set an alarm after the 7:30am feeding and curled up in bed with my boy for just 45 more minutes . . . and woke up at 10:30. That' the disorganized part. Here's the Super part. I showered, dressed, did my hair, fed my hungry monster, chugged a glass of water, and ate a breakfast bar and still made it there with 5 minutes to spare.
The shiny sense of accomplishment didn't dull even as I waited, and waited, and finally saw the doctor an hour later.
Of course I couldn't have done it without the cooperation of my son who quietly sang to the animals over his swing while I showered and let me diaper him without and immediate poop and re-change. Sweet, sweet boy.
The picture? Just a gratuitous shot of Nathan wearing wrist rattles. And ignoring them completely.
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