Things I did today that were stupid:
- I decided to make pinto beans for Harper from scratch, like from the bean, not the can. Wait so I have to soak them?? Ugh. Glad I know exactly what's going into her food, but next time girl is getting canned. And seriously, I have refried beans for a million people over here, if you're interested.
- I spent all of glorious nap times finishing a book. And being mad at the book.
- I went outside. Yes, it was a glorious day, all 80s and sunshine. But I've sounded like a toad for a week because of the awful pollen that coats every single inch of everything these days, and now I'm toadier. My neck is red from me clawing at it like a bird every time I cough the sandpaper pipsqueak cough. But we went outside. And swung (swang?) and Harper loved it. Worth it. [proof]
- I looked In the mirror today in full midday light, baby on hip, wet hair slicked back into a messy knot, no makeup in sight, wearing a black tee shirt that may or may not be maternity still, eyes red and watery from said pollen, dabs of banana here and there, and really looked. And that was the stupid part. I really looked. And for the first time ever, literally ever, I said to myself: I look old.
- Most stupidly: I wallowed. Ever do that? (Ha no one ever, right?) Like, I got hung up on one little sad thing (not the being old, I accepted that, something else) and it snowballed. Everything "went wrong" from the moment I decided I was sad and pitiful. Harper rubbed squash inside her eyeball for the hundredth time and I determined she was out to get me. She pooped through literally 3 outfits too (who knows why) and she was clearly trying to get in my head. I had quite a few dishes to do and OMG ALL I EVER DO IS DISHES AND LAUNDRY AND POOP PATROL AND SNEEZE annnnd you get the idea. I indulged my bad attitude and sads for a while, shed a tear, Tony let me, kindly, and then I apologized for wallowing. I don't want to be a wallower. Allowing a bad attitude to take root and fester is a slippery slope. I've been down that slope in varying degrees and for varying lengths of time these past few post-baby months, but I want to try to snap out of it when I can. Out of the mud, wallower.