The Trip is Looming

I don't know what it is about "Mommy brain" that takes reason completely out of the equation.

I am leaving tomorrow morning for a three-night, four-day work trip and I am anxious about it ... even though I know everything will be more than okay.

I don't even know for sure what I'm so concerned about. Abby will have quality time with her Daddy, her aunt, uncle and cousins and her grandparents. Before she knows it (she likely won't know it), Mommy will be back. What am I so concerned about?

Let's see ...

1. She will think Mommy has abandoned her. This is particularly ridiculous because I don't even think she has the physiological capacity to believe that. It should also be noted that I am not the only person biologically related to Abby (yes, this is true. I did not have the first immaculate conception since the birth of Christ). She has other family members who deserve to spend one-on-one time with her.
   
2. She will be completely unsettled because no one takes care of her like I do. This will also be true of Daddy and Grandma and Uncle and Auntie. Everyone will take care of her in a unique way and she deserves different types of relationships! I will make sure to tell her to keep the fact that I am her favorite on the DL, though. We don't want to hurt anyone's feelings (I kid, I kid).
   
3. My milk will dry up. I highly doubt this will happen.
   
4. I will miss her. Okay, this might be the only valid point in the whole list. I don't want to leave her! I will miss her! Sigh.

Therapeutic BLOG posts from Indianapolis to follow ...

Children's Literature

Okay, I've been telling everyone I know about this and it seems I am the only one who finds it very, very funny.

I bought a bunch of Berenstain Bears books for Abby and read her my favorite: "The New Baby."

The premise of the book is:

Small Bear wakes up one morning and realizes his knees and ankles hurt because (alas) his feet are hanging over the edge of the bed.

Papa Bear says, "By golly, we'll take you out to build a new, bigger bed for you!"

As they walk out the door, Mama Bear smugly rubs her obviously-pregnant belly and says to herself, "This is just in the nick of time."

Apparently, she has been growing a watermelon in her belly, unbeknown to Small Bear.

Papa Bear and Small Bear have a phenomenal day together, building a bigger bed. They return and Small Bear realizes his old bed is missing! Papa and Mama then point out that there is a new baby -- Sister Bear -- in his old bed.

Mama Bear went about giving birth while Papa and Small Bear were out on their father-son day trip.

How did I not question this as a child?

I will say, though, that I am eager to read more books of Abby's to find humor in them.

I was reading her Tom's favorite Curious George book in which George swallows a puzzle piece and has to go to the hospital to have it extracted. At the end, he takes the surgically-removed puzzle piece and completes the puzzle.

Of course, I am sitting there thinking about stomach acid and the damage done to the piece itself. Couldn't they have ordered a new one?

"Let's put this regurgitated puzzle piece back in the puzzle."

Sanitary? I think not.

This is every morning with the kitties.

I don't really need to say anything.

The Strike

Abby is on a nursing strike.

She is fine during the night (essentially when she wakes up in a comatose state), but is refusing to nurse during the day.

It's quite the rejection, let me tell you. And completely unexpected.

Before having Abby, I turned up my nose at breastfeeding. I claimed it "wasn't for me" because I worked and because it just seemed strange.

Some mothers convinced me to at least try it because the benefits are so high during the first six weeks. I committed for at least six weeks. We are now going on four and a half months.

I really love it and this strike is killing me! I have faith it will get better (I got some great advice from a friend and bought some new bottles), but it is really tough in the meantime!

It occurred to me yesterday that this is just one of many situations where this little person will succeed in helping me to feel completely inadequate. She doesn't know any different, but -- as far as I'm concerned -- she has a picket sign with "Say NO to nursing" on it.

We'll see how the situation plays out.

What happens to your spine when you become a parent?

Okay, seriously, I am completely lame.

Before becoming a parent, I would have confidently told anyone who listened that I would be that parent who struggled to leave her child. I would profess my ability to simply leave her at a relative's house and go out on the town or on an overnight rendezvous.

Now ... my "strength" has completely turned to mush.

I have the opportunity to go out with Tom Friday night and it very well could be our first full night without Abby. I am terrified.

For real?

I mean ... for real?

I definitely consider myself a parent with a drive to have "my own time," but even I am struggling to have a full night without my little peanut. What will I do when I wake up in the morning and she's not at home with us?

The answer is (wait for it): go pick her up.

This would be a good trial run for the three-night work trip I have in a few weeks (we won't even touch on that overwhelming sense of anxiety right now), but I'm still scared!

I feel so unbelievably pathetic.

Ah, motherhood.

You know you're a parent ...

When you've already had one cup of coffee at home, a grande Starbucks and are depressed that you shouldn't have any more because you would turn into a walking jitter.

I have issues.

Strange Baby

So, Abby is now giggling, which is the greatest thing EVER. It is interesting, though, to see what exactly she finds funny.

For example, she things that taking her shirts off over her head is the FUNNIEST thing in the world. It has gotten to the point where I haven't even pulled them over her face yet and she's laughing.

On the other hand, she things putting the clothes ON is the WORST thing in the world. As soon as I pull them over her head, she starts screaming ... particularly when I have to maneuver her arms through the sleeves.

Now, if this child continues to think taking off her clothes is hilarious and putting them on is awful, we're going to be in for a problem.

"Ow, that hurt!"

Abby is starting to be more and more aware of her surroundings, including the fact that things are uncomfortable.

Tom was playing with her yesterday and she hit herself in the head with a rattle, only to start crying hysterically. Then today I sneezed while she was in her play yard and it startled her ... more crying ensued.

I find it interesting that there is some part of the brain that must switch on to allow Abby to realize things aren't fun. I mean ... she has hit herself in the head with plenty of rattles and she has been startled numerous times ... why has it just now become upsetting?

Husband Hostility

We finished eating dinner and I ran upstairs to get the bathroom ready for Abby's bath.

When I came downstairs, Leia was licking my mostly-clean plate (we had linguine for dinner).

Me: "Leia!" And I threw her on the ground.

Tom to Abby: "I can't wait until you can pull her tail."

Sad.