If possible, I’m going to try to type quietly, because it seems like nothing wakes up lil Auggie faster than the clickety-clack my fingers on the keyboard. I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but I just woke up from napping with him.
I don’t know why that’s embarrassing, other than my latent puritan work ethic that makes me feel like every waking hour should be productive. Well, you know what? Having this baby is definitely helping me to get over that feeling.
I mean, when your days are filled with endless silly games and stories and voices and kisses that try to keep a baby entertained, you redefine your definition of “work” pretty quickly. I’ve never been so exhausted in my life before I spent an entire day taking care of a newborn by myself. And it’s not like it’s full of heavy lifting and sweating or anything like that, but somehow I’m so tired at the end of the day. It’s such a relief when Tim gets home to help out.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m also having the time of my life. Watching August grow, hearing him laugh at something I’ve done, helping him figure out the world — that’s better than any other employment I can think of.