Needed: Valium, Nap

Today...was a long day. I'm still trying to find my no-longer-pregnant-but-now-have-a-baby groove, and possibly my marbles as well. How is it that when you first start doing something completely new, you sometimes do way better at the very beginning, when you know nothing, than a few weeks later. At that point, you should have more experience, and things should be easier. Theoretically. You should be more relaxed, less spazzy. Maybe it's just me, thinking too hard. Just last week it wouldn't have occurred to me to second-guess putting the baby down for a mo in order to change clothes, even if the baby was screaming her little head off. Now, all of a sudden today, I'm like...sure, I'll just walk around the house in underwear until she settles down, because it is simply not possible to put on a shirt and pants while holding a baby. (Incidentally, my skill set last week in fact seemed to include putting on a shirt and pants while holding a baby, and now I've suddenly lost that.) Apparently, I am now the Queen of Logic.

Today's adventures included:
*Daydreaming about a near-snowday, with rain falling and the morning temperature hovering at 34 degrees. Hasn't it been over three years since the last snow here?
*Attempting to plan out an orderly, somewhat productive yet restful day in my head while watching the Today show.
*Watching Desperate Housewives and Grey's Anatomy after the Today show; realizing neither of these would be conducive to the intended orderliness and productivity, but possibly the restfulness.
*Enjoying the entertainment value contained in the name Dr. McDreamy and now, Dr. McSteamy.
*Once again playing battle of wits with the newly purchased breast pump and again, losing. I'm simultaneously mystified and psyched out. Also, feeling tragic at the idea of being unable to ever throw back a few shots of tequila and discard the affected materials.
*Taking a horrible but necessary trip to Target in which all fellow shoppers appeared to be undercover employees for Child Protective Services, all shooting me the evil eye as my newborn screamed bloody murder from the chocolate aisle in the far back corner of the store, all the way up front to the bathrooms. Must have been the lit matches I was holding under her toes, she hates that.
*Cursing the Target gods after ducking into the restroom with the little one and returning minutes later to find my cart gone. It only had a few items in it, but I really wanted those giant M&Ms, and was too tweaked at that point to go and get them again.
*Cursing the messy purse gods when I lost a light bulb in there. Granted, not the most brilliant of moves, toting a light bulb around, but this is a weird light bulb, and I needed to bring it to the store to match it, and it was wrapped in bubble wrap--until we were just about to leave the store, and then the light bulb magically disappeared. I could easily imagine myself, months from now, still cutting my hand each time I reached into the purse, possibly getting tiny shards lodged in my skin. That would be fucking hot.
*Leaving the darling to sleep in her car seat (in the house, not the car, for pete's sake), for a good 2 hours after the Target ordeal, because it was the only time all day that she seemed peaceful.
*Starting a new practice crochet.
*Like an idiot, Not Napping when I very well could and should.
*Continuing to watch the Survivor: All-Stars marathon which we are DVR'ing on OLN.
*Pondering my belly button, which is once again an innie, but is now like, all stretched out and...not pleasing. Whatever.
*Realizing that I am now, literally, naval-gazing. Sigh.