I Need a New Routine

She looks weird here.  Happy, but weird.
Phone picture...
because the hundred or so real pictures I took in the past week are still in the camera,
and I'm too lazy to upload them,
but not too lazy to write a ridiculously long post about nothing,
and an even longer caption about a silly picture.
Take that as a warning of what is about to come.

Everything I've read about babies emphasizes the need for routines.  Bedtime routines, naptime routines, feeding routines.  Apparently it fosters a sense of stability for the baby and helps them sleep better.  Stability I believe, the sleeping part I have to question.  One thing I do know is that I need a routine.  Me.  Not Laci, ME.  I'll explain.

I like to live life safely within my comfort bubble.  I like routine.  I like to know that on Thursdays I work at a bookkeeping job, on Friday afternoons I visit my mom, Saturdays we have family hang out day at my parent's house, and Mondays I stay in PJ's until just before Ryan gets home from work.  Every week - almost.  I like it that way.  Well, this week, on Monday, Ryan switched to the swing shift, and let me tell you, my whole world has just been a mess since then.  Total chaos.  Ok, not really total chaos, but it feels like chaos in my head.  My little, tired brain just can't wrap itself around a new schedule, a new routine.  Ryan is now home with us in the mornings, which I can't complain about that.  It is nice to see him in the morning, but it totally messes with my schedule, plus, he isn't the cheeriest morning person you've ever met.  Then, he leaves us in the early afternoon.  LEAVES US.  Ok, a little dramatic I know.  And yes, someone around here needs to earn a little dough.  But leaving in the afternoon means he doesn't get home from work until late at night.  Almost midnight.  Do you know how late that is?  LATE!  LATE!  Dramatic again, yes.  But for an old lady like me, that is too late.  AND it leaves me flying solo for the dinner/bathtime/bedtime routine.  I'll admit that I'm really thankful we only have one baby so far, because just one baby, I'm pretty sure I can handle.  I don't even want to think about future summers with more babies.  Except now, I just thought about it, and I'm already freaking out.  Ok, ok, I'm totally getting ahead of myself, and I know single mothers and mothers with husbands who work out of town do it all the time. But they aren't me, and they obviously have powers I don't possess, and now I'm just really carried away.  I think I have issues.

Well, really, I know I have issues, but don't judge.  Who doesn't have issues these days?

Anyway, back to my routine.  Since Monday, I've just felt all off kilter.  So what have I done about it?  Nothing...I've run to hide at my parent's house for the last three evenings.  I've been avoiding my own house like the plague.  Really, it works out great.  They spoil Laci for several hours, feed me dinner, then Laci falls asleep in the car on the way home.  I know this can't be healthy, so I'm really going to try to adjust myself...next week.  After Saturday family day, and maybe even Sunday dinner.  What?  I like to eat.

Wow, this really isn't where I was planning to go with this post when I started.  Oh well, I'm this far in, can't turn back now.

This isn't the first summer his schedule is like this.  This is actually the third summer.  And the three summers before that, he worked the graveyard shift, which is was absolutely a whole lot worse.  You'd think I'd be a pro at this by now.  In previous summers I've occupied myself with reading and sewing and watching TV shows that he hates to watch (like So You Think You Can Dance).  But I've also eaten dinner at my parents house during those summers.  Every.  Single.  Night.  No joke.  They know I practically move home every July and then leave again sometime in October.  I guess that must be my summer routine.  Except this year, it has been complicated by another little being.  I'm thinking that is really the root of my problem.  I'm not really home alone anymore, now I have another little person to worry about while I'm all alone.  I hate being alone at night, even for part of the night.  I think I hate being alone with my little baby during the night even more.  I know I will adjust, and I'll establish a new routine for just Laci and mommy, and we'll be fine, and my little bubble will be comfortable again - it will just take time.  Routine...I need you.

Well, I'd say that's enough rambling for tonight.  Proof that me being alone with my thoughts, AND feeling the need to share them with the world might not be the best idea.  If you've made it this far, I'll reward you with two more pictures I took with my phone because I know that you are really here to see pictures of her, NOT to read my incoherent babbling.

But thank you for reading anyway.

She hates sitting in the baby pool, but loves to run through freezing cold hose water.  Go figure.

Before

After