Bad Day?

Thursday night we had a storm. Apparently our electricity went out. I woke up around 12:30a.m. and saw a blinking digital clock. I'm not sure why I woke up, but I will say even though Parker has slept through the night since he was about 3 months old, I have not. In fact, once I hit my third trimester, I do not think I have slept completely through the night once.
Back to the story- I thanked the powers that be that I woke up, which is rare- I am usually cursing the powers that be at that hour for not being able to go back to sleep. Then in a sleepy haze I reset the clock and the alarm so Josh would be able to go to work on time.

However, in my foggy middle of the night state, I forgot to push the button forward that activates the alarm. So it was set, but not on. Somehow at 7:30, my internal alarm clock went off. I'm guessing it went off because sleeping until 7:30 is not a luxury I typically get to enjoy. As my eyes blinked open and I focused on the clock I said, "Josh, it's 7:30." I said this in the same manner I would say, "Josh, pass the salt." Never mind that it was an hour after he was suppose to get up. No need to startle him awake at that point, I guess.

He scrambled around to get ready, threw Abby in the backyard and was off. All the commotion woke my slumbering Parker. Then it was my turn to scramble around to start the day.

We went about the morning with our normal routine- catching the tail end of Blues Clues and then watching Franklin while we ate breakfast. Parker had a quarter of a plain bagel with a smidgen of strawberry cream cheese then vanilla yogurt with 1 minced strawberry mixed in. I had the soggy leftover crumbles of granola cereal with sliced bitter strawberries. I ask you, which breakfast would you prefer?!
Really...

Next we head out to the gym. Usually, Pman falls asleep on the way home and I slip off his bright green baby croc knock-offs and gently drop him in his crib. Then I shower, eat lunch and rush through various chores. However, Pmonkey had other plans that day. He fell asleep in the car on the way home and slept long enough for me to take a shower and that was it. That means he slept for about 30 minutes when he is usually good for an hour and a half to two hours.

I was not happy.

Parker was not happy.

Things were not looking good.

Since we were both up, I figured we might as well run a few errands. One of which required us to go to the cleaners to get something re-altered. I had something taken in last week and it needed to be taken in a bit more. I stormed into the cleaners (in Owings across from the gym that used to be a skateland, if you are in the area) ready for a fight. The little Chinese lady could not have been more nice. She held Parker while I tried the shirt on again to show her it was still too big. While I was in the dressing room, she turned up the radio and danced around the store with Pmoney. Then she told me there would be no charge for the re-alterations!

Wow! How great!

Our spirits a bit lifted, we were headed to the park in Dunkirk to kill some time until the 4:00 birthday park we were to attend that afternoon. As we approached, it looked like it may rain so instead we went to Rita's. (It's those last minute, quick decisions that make me happy to be an adult and a mom and most important in charge!)Parker has 3 teeth and that top right one is trying to push through and causing a (seemingly) great deal of pain. Looking back, that is probably why Pman didn't nap. Anyway, I figured the cold treat would help his incoming tooth, so I ordered a Strawberry Ice. After I paid, the guy behind the counter gave Parker a little baby cone filled with their custardy goodness. We sat outside and ate our treats together.

He loved it.

I loved it too, but probably for a very different reason than him.

We came home, he took a quick 20 minute nap and we headed to the birthday party. The house was amazing. The babies were plentiful. Parker found out about juice boxes with straws and potato chips. He loves them both.

When we finally made it home I thought we were done for the night. I gave Pfunk his dinner and cracked open a beer ready to melt into the couch and let Josh take over for the rest of the evening.
Every Friday during the summer, there is a Farmer's Market about a mile from our house. Josh loves going. He said our time at the Market is among his most favorite and he looks forward to it all week.

I shook my head no. There was no way Pman would make it through a Market run.

Both of my guys looked at me. Their eye pleading "PPPLLLEEEEEEAAAASSSSE can we PLEASE go?"

"FINE. Grab the diaper bag."

We went to the market and, proving me wrong, Pman hung in there the whole time. Captivated by the dogs and other babies in strollers. The Amish family brought a baby goat, for reasons that remain unclear. Parker's eye caught site of the goat and curiosity immediately set in. I pulled him out of the stroller and took him over to see the goat. I tried coaxing him to say goat (it didn't work). We were about to head back to the car when these two older ladies asked me if I would kneel down with Parker and put him next to the goat so they could get a picture. Odd request, but I obliged.
These ladies kept saying, "Your baby is so cute." "He is such a Gerber baby."
Now, I could not agree more, but I love when strangers say that.

When Pman would not take a nap, I was bracing myself for a hellish day. It's amazing how great of a day it turned out to be. It is as if Parker knew there were people out there who wanted to see him and he did not want to keep them waiting.

Worrywart

Confession: I am an extreme worrier.

I have mentioned before, in small snippets, my tendency to worry.

People who know me and know me well probably do not how much I worry about, well everything. I would say the only people who know the full encompassing depth and breadth of my worrywartedness are Josh and my mom.

When I was in college I used to send my mom emails in the middle of the night with my worries. I remember one in particular about acquiring health insurance post graduation. This seems like a normal worry, but I sent this email in my sophomore year at Salisbury University.

When I was pregnant I worried about how I would ween my unborn baby from pacifiers. In the end, Pman does not even LIKE pacifiers, so I worried for nothing.

As odd as it sounds, it kind of comforts me to worry. I'm not sure if it is because I do it so much that I am accustomed to the pit in my stomach and my brain being too pre-occupied with problems I cannot solve to deal with the immediate pending ones.

For example, I have mini panic attacks when I think of Parker driving while texting. However, the other day I was making mashed potatoes. As I slightly washed and peeled the potatoes Pmoney sat at my feet in the kitchen playing with the tupperware. As arrant slivers of potato peel fluttered to the ground in front of Pfunk, he would pick them up and put them in his mouth. I let him do this. I watched as he put these chokeable, mostly dirty, kitchen floor scraps in his mouth only to promptly spit them out. Each time making a face that clearly communicated "Yucky!"

Another time I was out with some friends and handed Pmoney a tortilla chip. One of my friends, who is not yet a mommy, said, "Can he have those?" I said, "We'll find out."
P.S. He was not a fan, odd.

I let him do these things all the time. I let him figure things out. Some mom's say that I seem so relaxed and at ease with this mothering thing. Secretly, I know that since I am consumed by worry over whether or not I will like the person he marries, who has time to think about potato peels?!

About two months ago my friend and I decided to join the same pool and enroll our boys in the same swim class. Since we came up with this plan I have worried about how Pman's nap time will be affected by joining a pool. It's insane. Who cares if his nap time is thrown off? He will be swimming! I was up for almost 2 hours last night trying to plan out our summer days in my head.
I was so focused on getting Pmoney in this swim class, that I signed him up before we even officially joined the pool. Huh? I'm still not sure how I did that, but there you have it.

I realize that this in a natural ingrained trait. Some people are worriers and some are not. However, I think I have been influenced by an outside source. A source that scares the crap out of me, but I still partake in. A source that I know has been edited and dramatized in an effort to pump up ratings. This source is Nanny 911. Have you seen it? If not Super Nanny has the same effect on me.

I watch each show by myself like some sort of junkie or closet eater. I get my fix while Pman takes his nap. I sit on my couch, shoulders tense and they are located somewhere up by my ears. My mouth is tight and my jaw is clenched, like when you see someone do something that you know hurt like hell, like slamming their head into something or closing their fingers in the car door. My eyes are the size of dinner plates and I dare not blink so as to drink in all the mayhem without missing a beat.

There seems to be two running themes:
1. The kids need to know the parents run the house.
2. Routine and consistency are vital to a happy home.

Since number 1 seems impossible- how can I take charge when I have no idea what I'm doing? I guess I'm suppose to fake it? Parker has 3 teeth (almost 4) two on the bottom and (almost) 2 on top. He is trying to figure out his teeth and therefore is kind of bitey. One time he bit me and I looked him straight in the face, held his little hands together and said, sternly "Parker, NO biting." Whereupon he stuck out his little lower lip and started crying. While he has not bit me since, I felt so bad for making him cry that I hugged him and ended up apologizing. I apologized to HIM. What?!

Anyway, since #1 does not seem to be going too well at the moment with our nearly 11 month old, I feel I have to grip on and hold tight to the second item on the list, thus explaining my obession and worry. This does explain it right?

In order to cope with this day to day I just repeat to myself- Just do what feels right. It is my mommy mantra.

A friend of mine told me I should write a book about being a mommy. I said it would be one page and that one page would say-
Do what feels right. Forget everything else.

If something feels wrong, it probably is. In the end you are the one who has to deal with any immediate outcome.

Scary, huh?

P.S. If you are a worrier and a new mommy or about to be a mommy, don't watch Nanny 911. It's terrifiying.

Josh Update:
He started physical therapy the other day and went back to work. He is slated to get his new tooth in about a week and a half. Things are looking up you would think? However, when the cast was taken off and the staples were removed, it seems 2 staples were left behind by mistake. I mean really.