\u201cI\u2019m lonesome for grown-ups,\u201d I whine; then static buzzes in my ear as my husband\u2019s cell phone cuts off. I feel like we\u2019re in a commercial, where my sweet hubby is on the other end spouting words of great sympathy. I dial again.<\/p>\n
\u201cChad, did you hear what I said?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI heard you, honey. You\u2019re lonesome. For grown-ups.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cKind of silly, huh?\u201d Since becoming a stay-at-home mom four months ago, silly has become a staple behavior in my routine. Silly songs, silly faces, silly hormones.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy don\u2019t you take Clara to the mall? At least that would get you out of the house,\u201d Chad suggests. Maybe the clerk at Pottery Barn wouldn\u2019t mind me chatting her up for a few hours. I think of the production that must take place before leaving home with a baby: packing the diaper bag, loading the stroller in the trunk, changing Clara at the last possible minute into something that (a) hasn\u2019t been spit up on yet and (b) contains enough pink to prevent admiring onlookers from confusing her for a boy.<\/p>\n
\u201cMaybe I\u2019ll just call a friend or something.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood idea.\u201d (Is that a twinge of relief I hear?) \u201cI have to go to a meeting. I\u2019ll see you when I get home at 5, ok?\u201d I look at the clock. It\u2019s 8:32 AM.<\/p>\n
When I made the decision to jump my career track in favor of full-time motherhood, I knew I wasn\u2019t necessarily choosing the easier path. Trading the board room for the play room and deadlines for diapers can challenge even the most resilient woman\u2019s creative capacity. But I was ready. After ten years in the corporate world, I was eager to dive head-first into the blessing of being mom.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s just that \u2014 let\u2019s face it \u2014 I like to talk. And at four months old, my daily companion only chats in a language I don’t understand. \u201cAh-goo, brrrr phlechhhh\u201d translates to some brilliant narrative in baby speak, I\u2019m sure, but to a monolingual mom, it\u2019s just cute nonsense. On occasion, my desire for adult conversation hits a threshold and I go a little stir crazy.<\/p>\n
For the next couple hours, I amuse myself with the usual morning baby routine: feed, burp, giggle, pray that Clara\u2019s stint in the bouncy seat lasts long enough for a shower and maybe even a chance to wash the bottles. Bonus if I can grab a bowl of cereal.<\/p>\n
As soon as a respectable hour approaches, I call my friend Hilary. With a 2-year-old in tow, she\u2019s a pro at this stay-at-home mom stuff and one of my greatest sounding boards. It rings five times before I remember she\u2019s at a diaper study. Strike one.<\/p>\n
On to tummy time and a storybook, followed by a rousing rendition of \u201cThis Little Piggy.\u201d Clara\u2019s eyelids begin to droop. Gently, I lay her down in the crib. I tiptoe out of the nursery and dial my cousin Shaina, a new mom in the delirious early weeks of postpartum bliss. Nobody answers \u2014 she must be napping, too. For her sake, I hope she is. Strike two. I decide to follow the crowd and flop down for a nap myself.<\/p>\n
Later that morning, Clara settles in for another round of milk. With the boppy in my lap and the phone in my hand, I dial my college roommate Alisa, mom of two and somebody who remembers who I was before the burp rag accessory replaced silver hoop earrings. Voice mail picks up within seconds, and I figure another lonely mom beat me to the punch. Strike three.<\/p>\n
I glance down at Clara. She\u2019s studying my face with her shining, inquisitive eyes. I stare back and get lost in the giddy thrill of holding this beautiful child \u2014 my child. A tiny smile spreads across her milk-frosted mouth. In that moment, we understand each other, Clara and me. And neither of us has to say a word.<\/p>\n
On the sofa beside me, the phone rings. It\u2019s Catherine, a good friend and pregnancy companion; our daughters were born just weeks apart. \u201cHey,\u201d she says. \u201cEver have one of those days when it feels like you haven\u2019t spoken to another adult in ages?\u201d<\/p>\n
Have I ever had one of those days? I chuckle. \u201cI\u2019m so glad you called,\u201d I reply. \u201cTalk to me.\u201d<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cI\u2019m lonesome for grown-ups,\u201d I whine; then static buzzes in my ear as my husband\u2019s cell phone cuts off. I feel like we\u2019re in a commercial, where my sweet hubby is on the other end spouting words of great sympathy. I dial again. \u201cChad, did you hear what I said?\u201d \u201cI heard you, honey. You\u2019re […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":30,"featured_media":12502,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"","_seopress_robots_index":"","_seopress_robots_follow":"","_seopress_robots_imageindex":"","_seopress_robots_snippet":"","_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"0","_seopress_robots_breadcrumbs":"","_seopress_robots_freeze_modified_date":"","_seopress_robots_custom_modified_date":"","_seopress_robots_canonical":"","_seopress_social_fb_title":"","_seopress_social_fb_desc":"","_seopress_social_fb_img":"","_seopress_social_fb_img_attachment_id":0,"_seopress_social_fb_img_width":0,"_seopress_social_fb_img_height":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_title":"","_seopress_social_twitter_desc":"","_seopress_social_twitter_img":"","_seopress_social_twitter_img_attachment_id":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_img_width":0,"_seopress_social_twitter_img_height":0,"_seopress_redirections_value":"","_seopress_redirections_enabled":"","_seopress_redirections_enabled_regex":"","_seopress_redirections_logged_status":"","_seopress_redirections_param":"","_seopress_redirections_type":0,"_seopress_analysis_target_kw":"","_seopress_news_disabled":"","_seopress_video_disabled":"","_seopress_video":[],"_seopress_pro_schemas_manual":[],"_seopress_pro_rich_snippets_disable_all":"","_seopress_pro_rich_snippets_disable":[],"_seopress_pro_schemas":[],"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[102],"tags":[32,121,101],"class_list":["post-483","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-relationships","tag-friendship","tag-new-baby","tag-parenting"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/483","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/30"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=483"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/483\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=483"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=483"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.themom.co\/fr\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=483"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}