My Life of What Ifs

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Parenthood is stressful

I am a bad mother.

I started off this journey as a REALLY bad mother.  Now, I am just bad.  Singular.  Most days.

When Ryann was four months old we took her to San Diego for my brother's Navy BUDs graduation.  We were first time parents, and she was pretty much just a lump we carried from place to place that other people wanted to hold.

The morning of our last day as we packed to go home, Ryann threw up.  Then she squirted out.  Then she threw up and squirted out at the same time.  Clearly the child was ill.  Or possessed, as a new Mom I wasn't so sure.  And frankly, all I could think about was that we were in San Diego and we had to fly to Detroit.  With her, and all her... projecting.

On our way to the airport, and after we "borrowed" a number of towels from the hotel (most of which I still have and yes, I think of that day every time I wash) we had to stop for some Pedialyte.  'Cause that's what good mothers give their sick, squirting babies.  Cory stopped the car, I went in and came out with the goods and off we went.

Now I should tell you- all of this happened in January of 2001.  Months before planes were flown into buildings and I felt like an even badder mother for bringing a child into this world.  I share this time stamp with you because after we checked our luggage and approached the check in counter with our stroller and very pale infant I realized something.  I could not find my drivers license.  MY BABY IS SICK AND I HAVE NO I.D.!!!!  They aren't going to let me fly home with her!!!!  Hmmm, wait a minute.... NO!  I never thought of that!!!  At least not for long.

Anywho... I approached the counter sobbing.  "I am a new Mom and my baby is sick and we just wanna go hooooomeee!"  People were staring.  "I lost my drivers license when I stopped to buy Pedialyyyyyttttteeeeee!"

Yes, this much I had discovered.  Rewind to the parking lot of the store... Cory drops me off, I go in, Cory moves to a new location in the parking lot, and I get back in.  If Cory had not moved the car, I probably would have seen the best drivers license picture I have ever taken lying on the ground.  But no, I had no idea and off I went.

Again, in present time I would have never gotten on that plane without my I.D.  But in the pre-terrorist era, the counter lady took pity on me and my dear sweet child, and my husband who was clearly in the doghouse, and let us fly home.  With our baby.  With the Pedialyte.

So you can see, I am a normal bad Mom.  But I knew what I had to have for my sick baby, and I went and got it.  Had I been home I would have still had to run to the store, because we could never keep Pedialyte on hand to hydrate our dehydrated children because it expired before you could use it. 

Not anymore!  Now you can buy Pedialyte Singles in a 4 pack of juice box size drinks.  Great for kids, great for bad Moms, and they have an 18 month shelf life.  Rock on.

Visit the Pedialyte website for many valuable resources and to help you find new Pedialyte Singles at a store near you.

Disclosure:  I was compensated by Collective Bias for my time and this post.  All opinions and view are my own.
Stacy

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Timestamp: 2010-10-26 18:08:02 UTC


Mami2jcn said...
I like you on Facebook under the name Mary Happymommy.
mami2jcn at gmail dot com
October 19, 2010 10:20 AM

Thank you Mami2jcn, or Mary Happmommy and Congrats!
Stacy

Friday, October 22, 2010

A ship without a sail, boobs without a bra

I've been feeling a little blah lately.  I don't think my health is the greatest, and my weight has crept up and for the first time ever I can feel it effecting my everyday life.  I don't like it.

It took a lot for me to admit that to myself.  It's taking a lot for me to admit it here.  And when I tried to have a conversation with my husband about it, well I guess it was the wrong time and his response was to rattle off World Series stats.  OK, so my timing wasn't great, but he had just turned the TV on.  Just.  It's not like he had watched every minute of every game.

Of course, and really, I don't like to air my dirty laundry here, but sometimes.... well, I don't think I'm heard around here much.  Maybe it's martyr syndrome, but I do a lot.  I handle a multitude of actual paying "jobs".  I volunteer at my girls' school, we run the concession stand for the soccer club, I am a co-leader of one daughter's Girl Scout troop and leader for the other.  I do a lot.  But I don't think the other three people who live in this house agree.

My six-year-old seems to always point out the things she feels I don't do. Such as, make her dinner.  Because apparently when you make someone dinner and they wait 45 minutes to sit down, then decide they don't like it, and you won't make them anything else?  That means you never make them dinner.

I want to be heard.  I want someones full attention.  I don't want to be asked when I am going to pay the Verizon bill.  It makes me defensive.  I've tried to hand off the family finances and yet I am still in charge, so don't ask me those questions, with that tone.  Yes, that tone.  Well, I hear a tone.

I want to be told I am doing a good job.  I want to hear, "It's such a relief to have YOU take care of ALL of this.  Thank you for alleviating my stress."

I guess I am just selfish.  Perhaps needy.  Maybe I really am just brat.  Or maybe when I squeeze you tight because I am overwhelmed with love, I just want to be squeezed back.

All that, and physically I feel like crap too.  Happy Friday.
Stacy