9 days since the birth, and I have officially become a homebody. Even last week I judged myself poorly if I didn't make it outside at least once a day. Today, I don't think it's going to happen, and I don't think I want it to. I ordered new cookbooks just before James was born, but now the idea of starting a recipe seems so daunting. Today was the first day that I turned the television during the day until today, and I have a feeling it is a trend that will continue. Seeing advertisements for cleaning products has always depressed me... I can't believe I've become the classic stereotype.
I was partially consoled by my husband's words yesterday. All that I have to be concerned with for the next few weeks is giving the little baby a good foundation in life. Everything else isn't important. It doesn't matter if I'm not following current events, (and I've been sadly out of touch with the events in Tunisia, Egypt and beyond) not partaking in cultural activities, or not completing some of the DIY projects I started before the baby arrived. (He didn't say it's all right if I don't cook, but I'm going to assume it is.) It's amazing how much pressure we put on ourselves in the modern age.
There is one last bit of hope. Maybe, when my body has fully recovered from the effects of pregnancy (and wow, are there are a lot of lingering effects! I feel like I've returned from fighting a war) I will regain my incentive to go out in the world. I hope there is hope...
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