I’m not going to lie, we haven’t left the house much the past 10 days, except for doctor’s appointments. I knew theoretically that breastfeeding was going to be time consuming, but I really didn’t quite understand how all encompassing it is at first. My “What to Expect in the First Year” book was even like, Yeah, nobody told you it would be like this, or if they did, you wouldn’t believe them. Sucka.
While bumming around the house, I’ve been listening to some new-to-me music: Father John Misty. It’s kind of a psychedelic alt-folk from the guy from Fleet Foxes. So good. I’m just looping his playlist on Youtube. Anything else you’d suggest?
Ridiculously late to the game here (like, 15 years late): I was more of the Gilmore Girls generation, but I just started watching Felicity on Netflix. (You can stream 80+ episodes!) I think this will get me through some bleary-eyed pumping sessions. I don’t know if there was any debate back in the day, but I am definitely on Team Noel.
On Saturday, we were determined to get down to the Farmer’s Market for some sunshine and, of course, a papusa. Emmett obliged like a champ. I almost cried listening to a violinist play “Hallelujah“on the corner. Of course.
We picked up kale from Table Top Farms, green onion sausage from Crooked Gap, red pepper chevre from Reichert’s Dairy Air and some summer squash and Joe used them all to top a pesto-sauce pizza for dinner. It wasn’t a very photogenic pizza, but it was delicious.
On the positive side, I’m enjoying being able to touch my toes once again, and when I stepped on the scale yesterday, I already weighed in at 30 pounds less than I did at my last prenatal doctor’s visit! I have a feeling the last 20 will be a lot more difficult to lose, though. Yeah, do the math, I gained 50 pounds! I am going to argue that a good portion of that was water, but it’s a good thing my 10 year high school reunion isn’t until fall.
(Fellow new moms: this essay in The Atlantic, “What Nobody Remembers About New Motherhood” is a good one.)