I love when people ask what I’m doing for the day as if I have a life…a life outside of my baby bubble, that is. What do they expect me to say? That I’m close to curing cancer or solving the world’s hunger problem? That would be nice, but I’m lucky to respond to an email, if it’s the only thing I do non-baby related.
So to answer their question I say, “This is it” while opening my arms Vanna-style to the toy-littered floor around me.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my baby bubble. I prefer to stay there than venture out into the crazy, annoying world. To some, our monotonous days might seem boring but I take comfort in our routine. Plus, she’s my little sidekick: the Robin to my Batman, the chocolate to my peanut butter. We share inside jokes and the latest celebrity gossip over her lunch of apples and carrots. “72 days! Can you believe it lasted that long?” We listen to Louis Prima on Pandora and twirl together in the kitchen while I prepare dinner.
It’s funny to think that while no two days are exactly the same, we do the same things every single day and it’s easy to see how they all just blur together. We play with her toys on the rug, we chase each other around the house (really, I chase her), we read, and sometimes go for a walk. That’s our routine, give or take a trip to the store. When that routine is out of whack, it makes me a little batty. Good thing I’m getting back on track.
Maybe the next time someone asks me what I’m doing that day, I’ll say, “Raising an exceptional child” instead of my usual answer of, “Nothing.” Because the truth is it’s more like everything, instead of nothing.
And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.