I definitely should not put all this on the little guy. Its not his fault that I went a little overboard with cake while I was pregnant or that he needs me every few hours. But man, trying to fit a workout in is much harder than you would think with a baby that readily takes a bottle and sleeps well. If I don't pump, I feel like a jerk leaving the house, even though this kid can go 3 hours without eating. I feel bad that Norm might have to deal with a fussy hungry baby, if only for a couple minutes.
Need an example of why I feel bad leaving my two guys alone? The other night I went to work out, left at about 6:15 after feeding the baby. (I breastfed even though there was a bottle of pumped milk available for two reasons 1: that way I am sure the baby is fed and good for a couple hours, and 2: because running with full boobs is awful. Its like dodging water balloons) I gave Norm some instructions on how to roast the chicken and he was going to be fine because as I was leaving, the baby was going down for his last nap of the day. We had everything figured out. Hubris. I must have forgotten all I had learned over the years with children and planning: one hiccup can make everything go to shit.
When I pulled into the garage, I noticed the door to the kitchen was wide open. As I got closer to the door I saw that the kitchen was pretty smokey. (a little extra info, our hood above the oven does nothing. I think it was part of the Easy Bake Oven set from 1978, because it has no real world function). Norm is peering in the oven to get the chicken's temp and has a fan positioned to blow smoke out of the kitchen through the garage. It is about 70% effective. The baby has decided he has been sitting in his bouncy seat long enough and started to protest. Norm and I go into situation control and divvy up tasks. Actually, I believe Norm is about to take a sledgehammer to the oven hood, so its not so much a dividing of tasks as he just walks over, picks up the baby, and I tell him to "go into the other room" in a reassuring voice. I check on the chicken, determine there's only a few minutes left and just when I think everything is going to be fine, I realize the kitty never came to greet me when I came home. Our 9 month old kitten, who has never ever been outside. I ask Norm, "where's the cat?". His eyes get wide and he responds with a shrug "I didn't think about that". I run around the house, calling for her, looking in her favorite hiding spots. I stand in our driveway, calling for her. Nothing. Just when the tears start welling up (seriously, the hormones that go along with making a baby are nothing to joke about), I see a little paw on our back sliding doors. I rush over and get her and think "ok, so I guess I can just never leave the house again". Luckily, the moment passes and I know that the feelings of crisis and guilt are over exaggerated in my mind. I think new moms forget how resilient our babies (and husbands) are.
I promise I won't comment on every post, but can I just say: GUILT: it's what's for dinner. Guilt is part of being a mother and that coupled with the hormones is a force to be reckoned with. Learning how to control your reaction and supressing it, well, that is a skill every recovering Catholic should already have. If you need help with this consult the liquor store.
ReplyDeleteYeah, the guilt is rough. I cried the day of the vaccinations when he was crying uncontrollably because there wasn't anything I could do for him and I couldn't explain it to him, etc. I feel guilt when he's been in his car seat too long. This mommy business is ridiculous.
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