The Human Trampoline


So yesterday was my first day alone with the girls. Totally alone. All by myself. No husband, Mother, Mother-In-Law... no one to make sure if I fell down the stairs and broke my neck that my children won't die from eating their own poop or electrocution or something.

That's on my really long list of irrational fears, by the way. That I will fall down the stairs or choke on a pancake and Nick will come home hours later to find my dead body and Ellie picking her teeth with broken glass while washing Lila's hair with lighter fluid.


I must say, for all of the anxiety I had leading up to my first day alone it really was pretty anti-climactic. Everything went relatively smooth though I did hit a low point when I found myself sitting on the toilet trying to pee while breastfeeding Lila with one arm and holding Ellie on my lap with the other. Seriously... talk about stage fright. Oh, and I know what you're thinking and trust me when I say you DON'T want to know how I wiped.

The big challenge, which I sort-of anticipated but sort-of didn't was the not being able to pick up Ellie because of the whole c-section thing. I had been working through some of the logistics in my head but there were a lot of unexpected situations that required a pick-up.

Like her crib for starters. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Lie down in front of the crib, pull up my shirt, release all the bound up loose stomach skin from my jeans and let her use my body as a human trampoline to catapult herself in?

Or the changing table. I tried to change her on the ground but after leaning over her for 92 seconds my back actually locked up in that position and I was forced to walk around at a 90 degree angle for the next 20 minutes.

The high chair. The car seat. I could go on and on but what it boils down to is that I have totally disregarded the fact that there's a huge incision in my abdomen and my uterus is probably either going to fall out or Nick will come home to the final scene from Braveheart in Ellie's nursery because I'm picking her up.

On the bright side, Ellie has realized that if she comes within a 3-foot radius of the baby her skin will not burn off. She actually showed a little interest this morning and put her head next to the baby's on the floor.

Maybe there's hope after all that she won't pack up her bags, shimmy out her window and hitchhike across country tonight. Which is also on the long list of irrational fears, by the way.