How to human.
It’s another gloriously sunny and mild day here in Brussels. We’re in Day 36 of confinement. Baby N has been with us for 23 of those days. And even though my situation isn’t much different on “confinematernity leave” than it would be on plain old maternity leave, I can’t help but feel a bit frustrated.
I know in my head that if this was Situation Normal things wouldn’t look dissimilar from what they look like now. I’d be mostly “stuck” at home and often glued in place under an almost-8-pounds-now-squirms-in-his-sleep little dude. Leggings and tunics would probably still be my wardrobe of choice. (OK, let’s be real for a minute: choice and necessity are interchangeable here. It’s not like my 3.5 week postpartum body is ready for anything other than leggings. But I digress…). And we’d be sheltering in place not because of a pandemic, but because tiny immune systems need time to develop before they’re ready for the world and because mamas need R&R to settle into the new normal of momhood. It’s true—our day to day now probably isn’t that different from what it would have been.
But this is SNAFU-ville we’re living in. And I’m going a bit stir crazy.
I’m simultaneously completely touched out by the end of the day and craving hugs from my friends. And LORD, do I miss real live conversations with real live people. Zoom calls are great—yay! technology!—but I’m starting to feel what I saw referred to as the (probably pseudoscience) plausibility of absence: the feeling that the body knows that the faces on the screen should be in the same room with us and not just beaming through our computer screens. But mostly? I’m just trying to adjust to the what appears to be an unknown and ever-evolving new normal after being violently ejected from the safe space of my world as it stood only a few weeks ago. (God is my privilege rearing its ugly head at the moment. I know. I know. But there’s got to be room for both—for knowing that my life is still incredibly privileged and for the anxiety that sits on a low simmer in the background lately.)
These past three weeks, I’ve had an upfront seat to a little (but oh so loud!) being trying to figure out how to human. And I realized this morning that his experience is paralleling mine — we’re both trying to figure out how to do this new thing we’ve been thrust into. I honestly think he might be doing a better job of it than I am some days. So, I’m taking some lessons from a newborn:
1. The days blur together, but saving your cozies for the evening helps.
Yes, it’s easier to just live in your jammies all day but save those cozies for the evening. Having an end-of-day or bedtime ritual and one to match in the morning helps separate the days from each other. Sure, you still may not know if your zebra onesie is for Tuesday or Wednesday, but at least you’ll know you’re not supposed to be sleeping. (Well, not between naps at least.)
2. Soothies are totally acceptable. (As long as they’re the good kind.)
Screw what the haters say. Soothies are a totally OK thing (just ask the American Academy of Pediatrics). But make sure your soothie is the good kind — one that will help without hurting. There’s lots of things out there that look like acceptable soothies but they might make things worse. You don’t want those. Comfort is good, trying to stave off hunger or other necessary but uncomfortable feelings is bad.
3. Screaming it out is sometimes OK. But you can’t rage all day and night.
A good cry or a good scream is not only acceptable at times, it’s even normal given the circumstances. None of us have language to use for this situation we find ourselves in lately. But too much screaming in the ears of the people who love you will make them want to take a timeout from you. (Which is also TOTALLY OK.) Try not to rage all day at the people taking good care of you—and don’t forget to show them a little appreciation every now and then for everything they’re doing. A little smile (even if it’s just gas) goes a very, very, very long way.
4. Reading is great. Until it makes you fussy. Stop before it does.
It’s fun and sometimes even mesmerizing to get sucked up into the things in front of us. But sometimes you stare (or scroll) just a bit too long and you start to find yourself fussy. Maybe it’s past your nap or bedtime. Or maybe it’s just too hard on your brain (or heart) to absorb what you’re seeing. Try to pay attention to the subtle signs that show up before a meltdown and put the damn book down before then.
5. Even a bit of exercise makes things easier to bear.
Dealing with crap is hard work, especially if you’re not exercising regularly. (And yes, we’re talking literal and metaphorical poo here.) So get those muscles moving at least once a day. It’ll help you feel more normal.
