- You start it off with wicked acid reflux and insomnia - both fueling the other.
- Woodstock wakes up at 5 a.m., inconsolable, leading you to haul her into your bed, if only to lie horizontally while trying to comfort her
- Instead of sleeping, Woodstock practices her educational pursuits by naming all the parts of your anatomy - including exhibiting frustration at not being able to dig deep enough to find your belly button.
- Himself takes up his whole half of the bed - residing just on the "middle line," while Woodstock sprawls out on 3/4 of the remaining half of the bed - leaving just enough room for your right butt cheek and one arm.
- 10 minutes before your alarm is supposed to go off (not that you've slept more than a couple of hours all night), Woodstock pops up and declares, "Food?! Food!"
- You realize you didn't get Woodstock's milk to take to Miss Jan's today, so you have to leave early to get some on the way
- Seconds before you are ready to leave, you decide to brush your teeth, turning your eagle eye away from Woodstock for a split-second only to hear a horrible "thud" and a moaning wail emenating from the floor - three feet below where Woodstock was a milisecond ago. You cradle Woodstock, watching the bruise/goose egg show up on her head while Himself runs the basic neuro-function tests to determine that Woodstock is fine you are never going be trusted to keep an eye on her again
- You already didn't want to go to work because your stomach feels suspect, your leg still isn't quite right and your head is stuffed with cotton from lack of sleep - and now all you want to do is snuggle Woodstock until her head no longer bears the reminder of your stupidity.
- Your stupidity and the resulting inability to separate yourself from Woodstock makes you 15 minutes late to work and the only reason that you're not later is because you forgot to pick up her milk
- You have a "first thing" meeting (which you arrive late to), then a meeting after that, then one after that ... and all you can think of is your bed and Woodstock's goose egg that screams "Bad parent! Didn't pay attention! Knew better!" over and over to every passer-by.
- The house is a pig-sty from the housework restriction you've been on and all you really want to do tonight is feed Woodstock comfort food and snuggle with her for hours
Can we just forget this and start again tomorrow?
3 comments:
A goose egg doesn't mean you are a bad parent - it means you are a normal parent. And most people understand this.
The problem is that I wasn't watching her in a situation where I should have been. That's what made me feel like a terrible mother.
YES, you can just forget it all and start again. At least I hope so...I do it, or try to, often ;)
Sorry you had a cruddy day. At least your right butt cheek got to be somewhat comfy, and if it's anything like my two, that's the one that needs it the most...haha...
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