4:30 a.m., up feeding the baby....no, actually, let's begin before that.
December 30th, late afternoon, I suddenly looked up and realized both kids were sleeping and I hadn't had a shower. I quietly crept upstairs and took a five minute wash down. Fifteen minutes later I went back downstairs and discovered that the shower water had drained straight through the pipe into the kitchen.
The leak is fixed, mostly. It's an old house, whatever. The point is that the water drenched two boxes of lactation tea, which seems to be helping, at least a little, with my milk supply. So at 4:30 in the morning two days later, when Little Miss was showing disappointment with her first breakfast, I thought to myself, "How am I going to get to the store today to get some more of that?"
I know that people with more than one child do manage to get groceries. Like anything you want to do with small kids in public, you just have to do it and (to paraphrase Pink) chant over and over again, "Just because this sucks, doesn't mean I'm going to die." In that regard, at least, this ain't my first rodeo.
But, with school out for the break, the Kid has been so darned onery. The lack of schedule + new baby has made both of us pretty grouchy with each other, and I didn't want to dump gasoline on the fire by taking our first two-kid, solo-parent trip to the store. Instead of taking them both with me, I thought, "I'll just get up really early and go before Sweet Husband has to be at work."
As anyone who's been a new parent knows, that was not an easy choice either. All sleep is precious. Every single minute.
So, to prop my eyes open, I stopped by the coffee shop on the way, and there I ran into a friend who is also a blog reader. "Are you on your way to read books at the grocery store?" he joked, after reading last week's post.
"Actually...yeah, sort of," I laughed.
A father of two himself, he went on to tell me how he often volunteers to do the grocery shopping at his house, just for the twenty minutes of quiet. I'm guessing not at seven in the morning; we didn't get that far.
But the store was quiet. Just me and the people stocking shelves. Twenty minutes in, twenty minutes out. No questions, no requests for cookies.
Who knew that sunrise at the grocery store would someday be such a treat?