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: Magic CookieLiveblogging 30
I look at myself in the mirror. There are bags under my eyes and a new white hair has appeared. (When we were on vacation with the grandparents, at one point my mother came up behind me and said, "You have WHITE HAIR." JW told me that, before this pronouncement, he had spotted her standing behind me, repeatedly reaching out to pluck the offending hairs and then restraining herself.)
I change out of my PJs and put on my Birthday Underwear. I take another look in the mirror. Not bad, I think. Especially for someone with a baby. Then I walk away, pleasantly surprised that no voice in the back of my head is saying, "... even though I could stand to lose a few pounds." Maybe I have newfound maturity at thirty.
I do a few minutes of yoga and stretching before K cries at exactly 6:04. I change him and feed him. We sing (the Lollipop song), dance (to "Cheek to Cheek"), brush our teeth (he takes forever now that he insists on doing it himself, but he is pretty good at it). I bundle him off to daycare. On the way to school, I yell along with "Synchronicity II" on the radio: "Every single meeting with. His so-called superior. Is a humiliating kick in the crotch!" That song cracks me up.
I'm only two minutes late to class and I actually get corporate divisions, more or less.
David Lat is the featured guest in my Legal Profession class, which makes for an interesting two hours that I'll post about later.
I get a sandwich and a mango from Formaggio Kitchen and head home to read a book: time to execute my big birthday plan.
There were a bunch of admitted students in class today, which reminds me that three years ago today, I was at HLS admitted students weekend too. Two years ago, JW cooked me a birthday dinner and CT made me socks. One year ago, I spent the day sobbing after yet another sleep-deprived night with K the newborn. Despite my mood, I dragged us out to a new moms' group. They went around the circle asking everyone what was happening with them. When it was my turn, I just started crying. The woman who ran the group came up to me afterwards and tried to convince me to get help. I told her I just needed some sleep. She gave me a sheet with phone numbers of support groups and PPD specialists.
Things have certainly improved since then.
I didn't end up reading my book after all. I kept getting distracted by phone calls and mail. I decided to go shopping instead. I do not shop for relaxation, except at bookstores. But there were two very specific things I wanted, I had to return some ugly baby clothes, and all three stores I needed to go to were right next to each other. I arrived at the mall to find that the Children's Place had closed down, Victoria's Secret had no sizes smaller than L, and I had mysteriously shrunk 1.5 pants sizes so I no longer fit into anything at the Gap, my default place to buy jeans. Thwarted at every turn!
After that wasted hour and a half, my day took a turn for the better: JW walked in the door! He's been gone all week. He's upstairs making me dinner right now.
Full post as published by Magic Cookie on April 11, 2008 (boomark / email).

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