Then the babysitter leaves. And it is all baby, all the time. She is 7 1/2 months now, in a whining and groaning stage like she is trying to tell me something like "get the hell off the computer, mom, I'm much more interesting and my diaper is probably poopy." She is a little frustrated by the fact that she is not yet crawling although she is getting awfully close. Everyone says I'm going to be wishing for the non-crawling days again, but I have to admit I'm really looking forward to her being mobile. I think that will be so much more interesting than the "all I can do is sit and topple over then whine, whine, whine" stage.
The babysitter is saving my life or at least my sanity. I don't think I could survive 8-9 hours a day of total baby and nothing else. Call me a bad mommy, call me what you will, but I've just been adjusting to marriage later in life (38) and although I thought I wanted a baby, when she finally came, I was looking for the receipt so I could read the return policy.
Life with baby is just really hard. If it wasn't for babysitters, I'd be in the funny farm by now. At least half of each weekday, I can pretend to be a little bit normal. Because as far as I can tell, mothers are not normal. I don't know what they are yet, but they definitely are not normal.