Carpe Nutellem

I bet most of you have read the "Don't Carpe Diem" article written by Glennon Melton for the Huffington Post.  For all you moms, parents for that matter, who can't quite measure up to the pressure to feel constantly elated about the duties of parenthood (please tell me that's all of us!), it's a funny read.  It's touched a nerve, because it's been circulated about a million times within my circle of friends.  I've realized in my current newborn-toddler-pre-K-er situation that there are a few key things I hope to carpe in any given week, let alone every diem.  This newborn season is short but intense, so we take what we can get, and the list is as old as humanity: there's nothing new under the sun (except maybe green lights...and Nutella).

CARPE NUTELLEM

No explanation needed.  Thank you, Italy.  I don't know how many croissants we've gone through, but I've found the time needed to glop this onto one is negligible, even with a newborn in one arm.

CARPE WINKEM

Sleep.  Wherever you can get it.  Do it.

CARPE DE-FILTHEM

Even with my mom here, oh-so-graciously, in the fray to help us, this is a sight still slightly more elusive to me than I'd like to yet admit.  If the water's still hot after all those loads of newborn-poo-that-doesn't-come-off laundry, all the better!

CARPE CUP-O'-JOE-EM

One might think it contradictory to CARPE WINKEM, but that is false.  The end.

CARPE OPEN-ROADEM

There might be a pattern here from other posts.  I like driving.  I like being alone.  But especially right now, the two or so times I've had to make an appointment, ALL BY MYSELF!, let's just say I carpe-ed the mess out of it. 

CARPE GREEN-LIGHTEM

Anyone who's driven through town with a screaming newborn who dozes when the car's in motion then erupts when the car stops knows what this is all about.  Red lights are the enemy.

CARPE SILENCIUM

Loud, knocking toys; toddler protests; baby wails; silly songs for kids: it's just everyday life, but apparently it can lead to overload.  Because then there's walking down the stairs, kids are down for the night, and all there is for a brief moment is the slight roar of the fire.  If the TV's on, I turn it off.  Silence. Is. Golden.  Ahhhhh.

(But mostly, CARPE NUTELLEM)