When I became pregnant, I dreamed of a relaxing maternity leave that would involve me walking the baby down to a local cafe and writing while she quietly slept or cooed and played with toys. Despite the fact that all parents warned me it wouldn't be that simple, I foolishly clung to the fantasy. In reality, that scene plays out like this:
--Baby finally seems ready for a nap. Let's get her dressed and ready to go in the stroller!
--Oops, she just pooped all over everything. Better change.
--You know, now it's getting a little chilly, I should bring her a sweater and hat.
--Aw, man. Those are in the dryer. Guess I should wait a bit.
--Ok, dryer is done! Let's go!
--Oh, wait. She's fallen asleep on me and now I must sit motionless for the next hour and a half while my bladder slowly fills up...