If you’re a mother, you’ve been there…
It’s your first excursion in weeks. You’ve been sleep destitute and secluded from the world for months. You haven’t taken a bath or even brushed your teeth in days. Every two to three hours ‘round the clock, its feeding time and just maybe you might get a catnap in while the baby naps.
If the baby naps.
Occasionally it feels like the walls are closing in.
Lastly, to keep your sanity, you elect you need some air. Not just air, but perhaps a nice meal. One more peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and you might become one.
So you wait until the baby’s done sleeping, feed him, pack him up, and head out. On the way, you peep back at your baby in the car. He’s content now, all rolls and smiles, but some way you’re unable to shake the feeling that you’re transporting a ticking time bomb.
You get to the diner and order the food, breathing in the first sense of normality you’ve felt in months. So far, so good.
And then, the unavoidable.