That would be me. Unmotivated. The only things that get me motivated these days are: playing with the Monkey, sleeping, and … that’s about it.
Case in point: When I was pregnant with the Monkey, we religiously took monthly belly photos. Well, I’m four months in with The Deuce and we have taken 0 belly photos. Zip. Zilch. I usually think about it around 11 p.m., when I’m even more haggard looking than usual with bags under my eyes and zit creme dotted on my face. Because during this pregnancy, my skin has decided that it hates me. Thus I have skin that is worse now than when I was going through puberty. It isn’t pretty people.
Another reason to stay under the radar recently: The Monkey caught a stomach bug two weeks ago — complete with vomit — and the Hubbs had to take him to the doctor and care for him all day. I’m not sure who was more exhausted that night, him or the Monkey.
Also, I’m notoriously bad about blogging when I’m at home. And that’s where I was all last week. I essentially hide out. Its like my safe place. I unplug and barely check e-mail. Unfortunately I wasn’t on vacation — I was telecommuting all week. Because our day care providers were in Maui (the nerve!).
So I put Plan B into effect: I called my 23-year-old brother. Yes. You read that correctly. My brother is my back-up babysitter. And you know what? He’s flipping fabulous at it. Also, the Monkey WORSHIPS him. In fact, if me, Hubbs, and the Bro were standing next to each other? I’m honestly not sure who the Monkey would go to. (Unless he was tired, then it’s all me, baby.) But seriously, its a toss-up. He LOVES his uncle — always has. As an infant, he would get this goofy grin with my Bro walked in. But now? There are squeals of delight. He practically falls into the Bro’s arms so he can be gently tossed into the air before being enveloped in a bear hug. He wraps his arms around the Bro’s knees for random hugs. He’ll lean against his shoulder in a chair, or use him as a back-rest during Sesame Street.
Bottom line: They are buds.
Each day last week, the Monkey would demand to go see his uncle before letting me give him a clean diaper. It was THAT exciting for him. Then he’s get all excited and stomp his feet (cause that’s how he shows excitement.) To wake the Bro up? He’d pick up one of the MANY bouncy balls in the house and throw it at the Bro’s face/body. No black eyes were given, but I’d imagine it isn’t the best way to wake up. But after the Bro opened his eyes? He’d see a 14-month old running toward him with open arms, then receive a gentle forehead-touch and hugs.
So last week, my role was diminished to dresser/diaper changer/food giver. While I toiled at work from the couch, the two of them chased each other around the house, went to the park, raced around the house in toy cars, threw balls all over the place, and generally had a great time.
Each day, the Bro napped when the Monkey napped. Each night, after I put the Monkey to bed around 7:30, the Bro would collapse onto the couch. Internet? I think that week was the BEST form of birth control that you’ve ever seen. To my parents: You’re welcome.
But aside from being my live-in nanny for a week, the Bro would help me cook dinner (when he wasn’t running around after a small child), and then would help do the dishes. He’d run the vacuum around the carpet to pick up all the stray bits of cracker and cookies left behind. If I’d asked, he probably would have attempted to do the laundry.
It was HEAVEN. I had tons of help, the Monkey was happy and worn out each night, and I was getting to spend a ton of time with my Bro. I just felt sorry for Hubbs sometimes, because I think he would feel left out when we’d get on “remember when” kicks. Or played zombie games. Cause we’re geeks.
In the end, I offered him the highly coveted (ahem) position of live-in nanny. Then I asked how he felt about taking care of an 18-month old and a newborn at the same time.
I think his eye twitched.
But he said he’d still be my backup. As long as I was home, backing him up. I can do that.