- Time means nothing. There is only sleep in 2-3 hour chunks, tracking feedings over 2-3 hour periods, and up to 800 mg of pain meds (combination Tylenol and ibuprofen) every 6 hours-ish. And studying in there somewhere. The OT Miri youtube channel is GOATed for a reason!
- Did you know that body chills are somewhat normal when breastfeeding? I guess they're some sort of cue to feed the baby now. Bit of a carrot and stick situation with that. The body chills being the stick, and the carrot being oxytocin released when breastfeeding (see below). The...pain when breastfeeding being some sort of injury sustained by the mule, perhaps? Will have to workshop that.
- There have been moments in which I have had glimpses of why I thought it could work with S in the first place. Nothing specific or solid, though. And I must remind myself that, due to breastfeeding and being postpartum, I have more oxytocin in my system than normal, which may be a factor.
- Marijuana is proving to be not-so-different than alcohol in some ways. There's just the more-ish ness of it. It permeates every waking moment. It's...not recreational, it seems. Just the water in which S swims.
- This water has resulted in some interesting situations. For instance, S walked over to my parents' house with H to show off the baby I suppose, and L and I stayed at home because: tired, and not necessarily feeling it. I have certainly gone to his parents house without him many times, it only seems fair that the emotional labor cut both ways sometimes. He left altered and returned altered having committed to going to church with my parents on June 7th. But I do not have to come! (he says) But it would be cool if I did - that's what Unitarians do! And we're Unitarian - aren't we? (he adds) I'm fairly certain that I didn't hear jack shit about evangelizing or going to other peoples' churches; "ministering" to those of other sects is largely a Christian Classic Flavor thing. I am very much not going to go, but have said I will probably judge it on the vibes the day of. Why? Because I'm relatively certain I will either have to deal with the fallout of some sort of spat involving one of the following: "You're not/never supportive of X/me/your parents/your family!" or "Why did you even come if you're going to have such a shitty attitude about it?" or "If you really felt this strongly about not going, why didn't you tell me?" Choose my poison, I guess.
- The night before last J, one of S's newish friends, came over to hang because they'd just been through a breakup and S is hyper-focused on being there for his friends. I like J, we seem to have a fair amount in common, they are very kind, and warm and I'm glad S is connecting with new people. However, I noticed when S was chatting with J about...us...that we just have very different narratives. I am glad that S believes that communication is in a good place and that he feels comfortable talking to me about most things and that we accept each others' neurodiversity. I didn't feel like I could really participate in that conversation, though, because I just...don't feel the same? And that's not a conversation I was about to have on a Saturday night before trying to take my pre-night shift nap with a newish friend in the house in front of our daughter. So I just didn't say anything.
- The day before yesterday, as riffing about not having had to take oxycodone even once as recovering from this C-section, even though they gave me five just in case. S said that he'd taken two without telling me for various body pain issues and that he would understand if I hid it because he should have asked me before taking it. I don't care about him taking them. I do care about him not asking/telling me. I don't feel the need to hide them, because if I needed to take them I probably would have taken them by now, no? Plus the meds transfer to milk and newborns don't really need opioids in their systems. They just don't. But I do feel icky about it, because that's alarming behavior generally. I thought about just taking it to a med disposal box at a pharmacy. I might just leave it out. I don't know. We'll see how the spirit moves me on Monday*.
*Update: the above was written on Sunday and Monday morning I found another missing with no notice. So I guess I'm one hundred percent just taking it to the med disposal box at the pharmacy. It sorted itself out! And now I feel much worse. Blerg.
- Recently (since Omaha-gate) I've felt the need to pretend to S that I will think about certain things for a period of time before making a decision about said things with the innate knowledge that I’m not really going to change my mind. Is this lying? Yes, I think so. It is also a bit of a choice between the "You're not even going to consider an alternative way/thing/perspective?" fight and the "You're disrespecting me by not choosing what I want you to choose!" fight. And it is, in a sense, hitting snooze on all that. Ahem. What’s the appropriate period of time to do this? A day? A week? Unclear. Does this make me a bad person? Probably! And there is so much evidence to substantiate that that I don't really feel that much shame about heaping one more thing onto the pile.
- Conversely, there are things I don’t seem to be able to make up my mind about and no amount of time seems to resolve this. Typically this involves things like where to eat, whether L can spend the night at her grandparents' house (I...guess?), and what to watch on the telly. But sometimes high stakes things like answering the question, "What setting do you want to work in?" Um...I like it all, bestie, just not all simultaneously.
- How infuriating must it be to have had When Your Mind's Made Up written about you? I would be livid. Just because I know what I want, Swell Season. High key negging energy.
- Sometimes one does a Kagi search to see if The Weakerthans are touring (they aren't) and discover that The Mountain Goats are, and that they're playing a show in Portland the month of your birthday for less than one million dollars and also that they're co-headlining with The Hold Steady (pretty decent band) and you think to yourself: I'm turning 40. Why not? Because money is tight is why not. But...just maybe? I will.
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