the thing about motherhood is that it’s gloriously uniform. it has episodes, phases and milestones that are boringly universal.
take breastfeeding, and try to do that in your own ‘creative, imaginative, harvard scientist’ way?
how bout breastfeeding with your elbow/ankle or big toe. You’ll see that tried and tested and beaten paths are really what you must choose.
it chips away at your eccentricities; it doesn’t give you exclusivity – doesn’t allow you to practice your chosen metier with pre-motherhood mind, heart and soul anymore. Mind, taken. Heart, taken over and Soul, taken over completely.
It takes away your time. it tires you by not giving you three hours for a movie; two hours for a book or even one hour for a nap. it wears you out by the same ‘ol.
You are not completely grossed out discussing snot shapes (elephant or tiger). you cannot uni-task without trying to multi-task.
It’s as complicated as driving a car while sitting in the back-seat. You need to stretch yourself to the maximum. You can’t really get out of home without an accident. And surely, an extra pair of hands would help.
My crib/gripe/sore spot is that you can hardly concentrate on you, now.
But hey! it makes you a lot of blogging buddies! *big wave all*
and thanks nino’s mum for letting me pressure-cook.