do i shower or do i blog?

The beautiful boy is sleeping in his crib. I’ve already eaten breakfast, checked email. So, now, do I shower or do I blog?

(Well, clearly, you know the answer.)

The thing is, I want to shower. I neeeeeeed to shower. Been in the same giant pink flannel polka dot pajamas for two days. I have yoga class in two hours, so sometime between now and then, I will shower, dress.

The thing about pajamas is that if I don’t have some idea of a destination or goal for the day, I tend to get lost in the tornado of baby care activities and when it stops spinning, it’s bedtime. There’s usually a midday eye-of moment where I realize that this is how it’s going down, that I need to come up with a goal or the day will be– (narrator’s thoughts are abruptly halted by the swooping swirl of tornado’s winds reengaging with her body).

I did get one thing done yesterday. You know that pile? The one with all the envelopes that say “important tax document enclosed” on them? I opened all of those and organized them, and paid my local city tax (which was due postmarked today). Phew!

But back to why I’m not showering (because this is important, or seemed to be when I started this post… my mind, it does love the wanderin’):

The boy is sleeping in a loose swaddle, a flannel blanket that is a little too big. Twice, when swaddled in this particular blanket, he has worked it up over his head, in his sleep.

Fool me once, shame on you, swaddle him again in that stupid blanket, shame on me. Because now I can’t relax and leave him alone. Good thing he can sleep through the sound of the keyboard.

According to the woman who moderates my moms group, every mom has some issue that, while not logical, they can’t let go of. Mine is suffocation. I worry about it a lot. Probably because every item we get has a warning about it, and everything I have heard about sleeping in particular — no loose clothes, no puffy blankets or crib accessories, no loose sheets, no pillows. Suffocation risk-isk-isk-isk…

Oy.

He’s been down for 40 minutes now (well, 38), and so far he’s fine. Oh wait, now he’s awake. Oh good. So I’ll take him into the bathroom with me, strap him into the bouncy seat with the bears, and just hope that he doesn’t fall over onto the floor — what with that way he has of ending up all slouched over to one side while he’s in it.