I guess I'm learning

After last Monday's parenting fiasco, I was more than a little worried at the prospect of being a single parent for four full days, three of them working days. I mean, I had just proven I couldn't be trusted to deal with small children like a rational grown-up should, and the universe's response was, "suck it up and, oh by the way, here's four whole days to not screw up again."

But, you guys, I KICKED ASS.

Every morning I was up in time to get everything ready for work and daycare before Micah even woke up. I got both of us out the door - fed, dressed, and clean, and with all the proper accessories - in time to be at work by 8:30. Then, I worked eight (very stressful) hours, got us both home, cooked dinner, got the baby bathed and in bed, and cleaned up the house, all before 9:00. All by myself!

I know that sounds awfully easy, and why the hell is she making such a big deal out of this? But unless you've been there, you have no idea. Things have been INSANE at work, and keeping up with a 13-month-old isn't exactly stress-free. I honestly didn't think I could keep all those balls in the air without help...but I did.

And now, I need a nap.

Moving on...

Hey, look, baby hands!

You can't take it back

This morning was awful.

Despite the fact that he has the whole day off, Todd had a PT appointment at 7 this morning. In the rush to get everything put back together from the weekend's home-improvement binge, last night we skipped our routine of assembling everything for the next morning. The end result was an early-morning scramble to get cups, blankets, clothing, and lunches together. The whole time, Micah was whining constantly and throwing a tantrum at every turn. And at some point after Todd left, between hunting for a clean crib sheet and trying to bundle everything into the car while Micah wailed and tantrumed in the background, I hit the end of my rope.

The scene that followed with Micah was not pretty. I think I'll keep the shameful details to myself, but it ended with both of us huddled together on the floor of the bedroom, sobbing our hearts out on each other's shoulders.

The whole drive in to the daycare and the office, I just felt smaller and smaller and smaller. I remember the look in his eyes, the tiny hiccupping sobs shaking his little body while he pushed away from me in fear, and oh, I want to crawl into a hole. The guilt is crushing - I think my heart might just shatter under it.

For the life of me, I can't figure out WHY it was so important to be out of the door on time. I mean, compared to my CHILD, my job runs a distant 158th on the priority scale. So how did I forget that? It would have taken me an extra 15 minutes to, oh I don't know, BE A PARENT. Surely he's worth that? I can't decide if I'm more upset that I lost my temper, or that (in the moment) I felt like getting to work by 8 AM justified it.

He was fine when we got to the daycare. And when I snuck back in to see him at 10, he was thrilled. I stayed as long as I could, playing with him, holding him, tickling him and listening to his laugh. He, at least, has forgiven me. It may be a while before I can do the same, though.

Welcome to 28

Whatever daycare-brewed sickness Micah got into on Monday returned with a vengeance on Friday. He threw up Friday night in his crib and again on Saturday morning. By Saturday afternoon, I was sick too. I spent most of Sunday asleep in bed, while Todd wrangled the recovering-yet-still-angry baby. I took yesterday off of work for the specific purpose of reacquainting myself with solid food (mission status: Uncertain). As birthdays go, I think it's fair to say that I've had better.

No time like the present

Monday evening, I was driving home with Micah in his brand new carseat. There was complete silence - usually he falls asleep on the way. But about halfway through the commute, right when I was committed to reaching the house, having passed all gas stations or other convenient pull-offs, that golden silence was broken with a resounding SPLATTER.

That's one of those parenting moments where you freeze in your seat, because you don't want to know what just happened.

Sure enough, my darling child had expelled what looked like every bite of food consumed within the previous 72 hours, all over himself and the carseat. I think both our faces bore the same look of "WTF WAS THAT?" I scrambled for a few wipes to clean up what I could, but there wasn't much I could do. He had to marinate until we got to the house. The brand new carseat? Decidedly broken in.

The next morning, when we went in to get him up, he'd had a repeat performance in the crib. So I spent Tuesday with a sick, clingy baby in tow. It looks like it was just a 12-hour stomach bug, the sneaky kind with no fever. Really, by Tuesday afternoon, he was mostly back to normal, so we met up with my sister and her children for a walk.

Back at the beginning of June, I talked to my bosses about going part-time and they were very supportive. Then, just as we were about to sit down and work out specifics, I found out I was pregnant. Facing the prospect of three months without any pay at all, plus all the extra costs without that second insurance policy, I changed my mind and told them I'd continue to work full-time.

Of course, at the end of June we found out that wasn't the case at all. But I felt bad about jerking my company around, the workload increased exponentially, and we learned that one of my coworkers is moving to North Carolina at the end of October. Since then, I haven't given the issue much serious thought, and when I have, I've wondered how I can possibly keep up only working three days a week.

But Tuesday afternoon was actually a lot of fun. And yesterday, I left work early, picked up Micah from daycare, and took him home so we could sit out in the yard and play. Micah's becoming a little person, one with whom you can actually Do Things, and I enjoy spending time with him. It's finally hit me (again) how much I want that time, how much I want to be the one taking him places and showing him things. I could never stay at home full-time, but I think part-time would give me the best of both worlds.

So, I suppose it's time for me to once again sit down, go through our budget, sort through my work, and start trying to make it happen.