Musings of a working mom

I am the wife to a stay-at-home Dad. That means not only do I have mom guilt, I have wife guilt. That’s double guilt, and it’s a lot and it results in me just thinking about them both all day long. The whole situation leaves me with a lot of questions that will never get answered.

I wonder what the living room is going to look like when I get home.

Why is this sticky?

Damn this meeting’s running late. Do you think they’ll notice if I just leave?

Why are there 12 plastic golf balls under the radiator?

How many “doctor’s appointments” have we had this past month? I’m tired and need to sleep in.

How many times has my “train been late” this past month? I’m tired and need to sleep in.

Tamara’s in from Philly for the day! I wonder if she can meet me at 7:45am, lunch from 12:15 to 12:28 (I have a 12:30), or a drink at 5:20 to 5:45. Really want to see her, but can’t miss bath time.

When did this rubber ducky get in my purse?

What are they eating for lunch? What am I eating for lunch? Wait, it’s 4:00, should I just skip lunch?

Did I actually tell my husband to turn the slow cooker on? Do I need to tell him to turn things on?

There’s a lot of playing cards around – I see one under the bed, sticking out of a desk drawer… is my two year old learning to play poker?

Are they thinking about me? Are they talking about me?

Does my husband think of me as me when I’m not there? Or just thinking about mommy not being there?

I wonder if anyone can see the Mickey Mouse racecar tattoo through my tights.

He Must Be Getting Ready for Halloween, Because My Toddler is Starting to Scare Me.

I’m not saying he’s bad, but what I am saying is my toddler is starting to scare me a bit.

He’s approaching 2, and things are getting intense.  Our baby is no longer a baby.  A few things that are new, and horrifying:

  • He winds objects back behind his head.  He can and will throw with force.   And he looks you dead in the eye so you know he’s ready to launch.
  • He views the highchair as the enemy.  Breakfast is filled with dread.  We know he’s hungry, he knows he’s hungry, but it doesn’t matter.  He will use literally every muscle fiber to not get strapped down in that chair.  It’s a daily, soul crushing battle.
  • He can un-do a perfectly put together room in seconds flat.  I have spent hours cleaning, only for him to totally dismantle the place without blinking an eye.  The thought of putting him down and letting him loose in a newly straightened room is unnerving.
  • He won’t nap.  We were told at 24 months he’d be sleeping like 14 hours a day.  (Ha ha ha ha ha ha.)  Sleep time is the most terrifying time of all. We put him down for a nap, and he immediately protests.  His body rejects sleep as though it was poison.  His lung capacity is far greater than it ever was before, and his screams are blood-curdling.  And amazingly long lasting.

Perhaps it’s the time of the year, or the age.  All I know is that I wasn’t ready for all these sudden, unnerving circumstances.

Maternity Lists

Truly crazy thoughts go through the minds of new mothers.

An actual list I wrote while 9 months pregnant and thinking about my maternity leave:

To do during leave:

  1. Scrapbook
  2. Clean out all closets (approximately 5, including a walk-in)
  3. Train for a 10K (not really a runner)
  4. Weave a basket
  5. Garden
  6. Tile the master bathroom (I’ve never tiled anything)

An actual list my husband left to me before leaving for work, while I was home on leave:

Try and do everyday:

  1. Eat lunch
  2. Brush your teeth
  3. Talk to someone
  4. Step outside

** note, showering was not on this list

A terrible children’s book

I was watching this video today at work and this woman was reading a book to her kids about all the last things they’ll experience as a parent and child as their little one gets bigger – the last time the parent will have to feed them. To brush their hair for them. The last time they carry the kid in their arms.   And so on and so forth, with many more utterly heartbreaking examples of the small things that will haunt parents as their once little babies grow bigger and bigger before their very eyes.

I don’t know who wrote this book, but I hate them. If you are reading this, and you wrote that book, yes, I hate you. And I’m not even sorry.

My child is the joy of my life. My husband and I appreciate him so much – and we pat ourselves on the back for how much we appreciate him and have no regrets. We appreciate the way little T walks, how he copies what he sees adults do and how he points to the bear on his wall and his little butt and how he runs to us or says “mama” by the door when I’m coming home and how he points to the moon in the sky and a gazillion other amazing things his baby brain tells his baby body to do that are minor miracles that I’ve already forgotten.

I never understood when people said, “it goes so fast.” For the first 6 months of his life, I frequently commented that it felt like he was around for 5 years. That time was going so slow. My perspective was different. I was living between 18-22 hours of every single day, with a baby attached to my body. I wasn’t on adult time. Eating lunch seemed like an impossible feat.   I was at the mercy of a sick twisted (adorable!!!!) dictator and my sentence was ticking away slowly.
Then, a shift occurred. I went back to my work, to the adult world, to regular normaltown time. Time flies. My baby boy is quickly becoming a big boy. A big, adorable, sweet, smart boy.  A boy who kidnapped my helpless, innocent little baby and hid him away forever.

Screw you lady for reminding me that he’s just going to keep growing. That time will continue to march on. That my toddler really will quickly grow up and grow taller than me and really get to a point where I can’t pick him up.

Right now, I want to hold him in my arms and read nursery rhymes to him and watch him learn to eat yogurt and speak nonsense sentences, thank you very much.   Stop reminding me of the inevitable future. Like my little boy, I want to live in the moment.