25 hours

I read in a baby sleep book this week that our internal body clock actually runs on a 25 hour day.  Perhaps this is why I always feel like there aren't enough hours in the day.  We are missing one hour each day.  I could use this extra hour.  Who do I need to talk to about changing the number of hours in a day?  Hum...

So yea, I'm busy.  Which is why I haven't written in a week.  I've missed writing and had such great intentions of stealing away for ten minutes to post something, but it just hasn't happened.  I'm working full time and actually busy at work - I billed three hours this past Sunday and even worked a few nights last week.  And when I'm not working, I'm being a mom.  And when I'm not being a mom I'm being a wife.  And when I'm not being a wife I'm trying to squeeze in a few minutes on the treadmill.  Or sleep.  Or do laundry.  Or clean the house.  Or breathe.  Or drink some wine.  Can't forget the wine.

I know, I know.  I am not the first woman to go back to work after having a baby.  But it's the first time for me.  And its an adjustment.  I feel like I'm getting everything done, just not 100% of the way or 100% perfect.  I'm convinced women who "do it all" are either (a) lying or (b) snorting coke.  I'm not one for either of those vices.  So I've had to be OK with letting some things go.

If you come to my house, there will probably be dog hair in the corners or laundry needing to be folded.  If you put me on a scale, you'll see I still have lots of baby weight to lose.  If you see me at the office, I'll have a cup of coffee in my hand and my hair probably isn't "done".  And if you see me with my baby, he may still have on the clothes from the night before.  But hopefully, when you see me, I'll have a huge smile on my face.  It's not about being perfect.  Lord knows I'm not even close.  And to be honest, I'm not even trying to be perfect.  I'm trying to be happy.  And I am.