Penny

Unexpected Ways Being A Parent Has Changed My Life, #6,447:

I can't stop moving.

Every waking moment must be filled. It doesn't have to be productive, but it does have to be busy. Even now: I write this while I'm eating dinner. Typing while I chew, because I can't just chew my food and relax, even though Matt is caring for Penny.

I came to this realization a few minutes ago, while waiting for my dinner to heat up in the microwave.

I set the timer for 2:30 and hit Start, then went to the fridge and poured myself a drink. Tossed the empty soda can in the recycling bin. Talked to Penny as Matt walked her around the kitchen, and smooched her cheek. Watched Matt spin her around in circles, and laughed at her little dizzy wobble of the head when he stopped. And then, when she demanded to be shown Something New and he carried her out of the rooom, I looked at the microwave. Thirty seconds left.

So... I went to the fridge and opened it, and thought about starting to put together her bottles for tomorrow.

Wait. Stop. Did you see that? With thirty seconds to go, I considered beginning a ten-minute task. Why? Because I seem to have become constitutionally incapable of standing still for the awesome length of time that is thirty seconds.

I had tangentially noted this tendency a few weeks ago, but thought perhaps it was because, somewhere in the back of my monkey-brain, I felt guilty about sitting still whenever Matt was wrangling the baby.

But I do it when Penny's asleep and we're both baby-free. I watch TV and play on Neopets at the same time. Or restlessly pace the downstairs, making sure I'm packed and ready to head out to work in the morning.

I do it at work, too. Show up for a meeting and no one else is there yet? I get up and do things - fill my cup of water, get an extra pen, get a different pad of paper, jot down a note on my desk, check my e-mail one last time. On a phone call with someone who doesn't get right to the point? Inevitably I open up a game of Minesweeper.

I even do it going to sleep - I can't close my eyes and drift off until I've turned over half a dozen times, re-written a scene half a dozen times that I have yet to commit to paper (well, hard drive) in any form, re-arranged my bedclothes, pondered what to wear in the morning, and gotten up at least twice to go to the bathroom, get a drink of water, trim my nails, and/or put some lotion on my legs.

I can't stop moving except when I'm asleep. Even when I want to.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to take my dishes to the kitchen and make a bottle.