The Numbers Game

Happy Monday, ya'll!

Man, have I got a case of the Muuuuuuundays today. I've been battling a cold that developed at the tail end of a stomach bug last week, so my already-barely-there energy has taken even a bigger nose dive.

Today I was thinking about how I've never realized how obsessed I am with numbers. Numbers are what, in my mind, dictate my life goals, and can sometimes cause anxiety if I don't live up to them. Here are some of the numbers I've been striving for in the past few weeks:

3 - the number of months I'm determined to keep giving Violet at least a little breast milk each day
11 - the number of weeks I think we're actually going to make it
30- the total minutes of tummy time I force my daughter to do on weekends each day even though she just lays there with her face in the mat making pitiful noises and flailing her arms
7- the number of pounds me and my sisters decided to try and lose by the time we all go see Wicked in New Orleans over Memorial Day weekend
4-6 - the age in months where I've heard my daughter will start becoming more fun, as if on the day she turns 4 months she'll all of sudden start sitting up on her own and giggling uncontrollably
5- the number of ounces I hope to pump each time I sit down to do it
3 - the number I usually end up getting

These are just a few examples, but you can see - I'm constantly doing mental math. Chris actually laughed at me the other day because he saw me adding 4+4+4+4 and so on on my phone calculator. He said "You could always just multiply." I had to explain to him that I was actually thinking back mentally to how many times and how many ounces Violet had eaten since 4am that morning to see if I was giving her enough in a 24 hour period.

This can drive a person batty. Obsession at any time is not healthy, and the health of your child can easily become an obsession. The truth is, I have little control over any of it. I can't make my milk produce five ounces every time. I can't say whether or not I'll even produce enough to give her an ounce after the end of this week. I can't say I'll lose 7 pounds because I am not even close to watching what I eat and I never have time or energy to exercise. My V may still be a little bit lump-like at 4 months. Maybe she's a late bloomer like her Mom.

I can only keep doing what I'm doing. Simple math says that if I'm giving her 4 ounces at the same time every day as I have been, she's getting plenty to eat. If I don't get pregnant the moment she turns 18 months, who cares? (Although, wouldn't it be awesome if I did? That would take some crazy planning.) My point is, I can't obsess over everything. And sure, I still will. I can't just turn it off. But I'm hoping to relax about a few things as time goes on. A number is just that - a number. And everything will be fine if it changes.

food for thought, people. Now I'm going to eat my food for nourishment and taste buds.

Love,
Dominique