I know how much my husband loves pizza. Last night when he called to say he wouldn't be home at the usual time I told him it was okay. He doesn't like how I'm okay with him not being home on time. He has said to me before that he doesn't understand how I can be so understanding of his work. I tell him it isn't that I'd not like to rant and rave but that there is absolutely nothing I can do about his work schedule but accept it. And that is what I do folks; I accept his work schedule since I can't change. So I decided to make him a special meal.
When he got home, near enough to 8 PM for me to call it 2000 hrs here, I asked him if he'd like his very own pizza for dinner. He was surprised that I was willing to make it for him. I explained that it won't be my own homemade sauce and dough but that I have a bottle of pizza sauce on hand and some Pillsbury dough. He was okay with that. I handed him over our daughter, she had just been fed and burped but didn't want a nap. I chopped and diced and sliced up his favorite ingredients while the crust with some Italian seasoning was baking in the oven. When the pre-cooking part was done I topped it and baked it again. He was very appreciative especially since I got him a tv tray and he was able to watch a program on the television while being waited on.
I know that he hasn't been getting all the attention he would like of late. I told him as much. I said that I don't get attention from him either. We realize that Little E comes first. It is only for the first year or so that she needs so much attention and over the next few months it will be less so than it was the first month and so on until she is able to feed herself from the foods I give her. For now she still needs all the attention that is normal for a 3 month old. I remind him and myself that we made the same demands upon our parents too.
This morning my spouse helped me back to bed once he realized I was sleep walking and sleep talking again. Ugh, I really detest PTSD. Once I got back in bed I woke up and he told me what happened again. I guess this morning I really seemed coherent up to the point where I asked him to take the baby from me and I wasn't holding her as she was in her crib. He then knew I was sleep walking and talking. I'm so afraid something is going to happen to my daughter that every night I go looking for her in our bed, frightened when I can't find, then wake up to realize this is the very reason why I refuse to co-sleep. Imagine if I had one of those nightmares with her in the bed? I'm afraid I end up flipping her out of the bed by accident.
I got up a bit late this morning and was giving Little E a bottle at 0628 hrs; still half an hour before the Itzbeen timer of 5 hours went off but that is just a reminder alarm for me if she hasn't fussed for a feeding beforehand. When I got into the kitchen I noticed that J had cleaned up his morning mess, washed out Bugsy's wet food dish, and replaced the dish towels too. That made my morning happy. Well that and the fact I was able to sneak in a shower and write up this blog post.
I'll leave all of you with a photo and video.
This is a paw print of Bugsy and a hand print of Little E along with a shell I got on the beach in WA. My little souvenirs of my time there.