I'm not Catholic, but I'm pretty sure a thousand Hail Mary's are due today. A million. What's the biggest number there is?? That many. Bless me ANYONE for I have royally screwed up. I can't decide which of the following is worse. I feel the need to confess because, well, I really believe full disclosure helps other moms feel better about their screw ups too. At least I pray I am not the only mom that is this dumb. I beg of anyone reading this, please don't judge. Being a new mom of two is wonderful beyond what words can express but has also literally rocked my already often overwhelmed world. I try, every day, to do a great job but Lord help me, some days are just a failure. Today, I am pretty certain, is one of them.
Mom of the year move #1: I'm volunteering at Maddie's school today and...wait, let me clarify... this is not me do-gooding but a requirement of her school which will promptly charge $200 for not completing 10 hours and the hours are due.... today. So I am, in my usual procrastination-ADD fashion waiting until the proverbial last minute.They had their Spring Festival today so I figure I can burn my three and a half hours today. As I'm helping the other parents hide eggs, I leave Gavin in his stroller with the teachers and the kids since I can't really wheel his stroller on the rubber stuff on the playground. As the whole class comes over and we're handing out bags to collect eggs in and someone says, "Where's your baby?". I have that second of panic where I truly don't remember where I left him (now mind you, he was within sight and not at all far away, but still). I sheepishly go get him, trying to act all nonchalant but feeling mortified and embarrassed. Who leaves their baby for five minutes and then forgets where they left him?? This girl....
As if that wasn't humiliating enough...
Mom of the year move #2: So at my recent pediatrician visit, he asked if the baby was sleeping through the night and I proudly said "He gets up only once a night." He recommended introducing a little oatmeal in his bottle at 3 months to help him sleep all night. Feeling rather proud for handling two kids and working almost full time, I left thinking an entire night's sleep sounded amazing. I have not slept past 7am in, um, years. I am a morning person but getting up in the middle of the night to me, is like Chinese water torture. Being only a week or so shy of three months, I thought today would be a great day to give it a whirl. I had off, I needed to volunteer so a sleeping baby would have been ideal. As the day wore on, he became increasingly fussy. He's usually so mellow and sweet. I thought nothing of it until we were at our friend Tiffany's house coloring eggs with our girls and he really started crying...er, screaming. He would reject the bottle and the screaming just intensified. Gouge your ears out with a pencil kind of screaming. Not wanting to expose our friends to the horror that is an inconsolable baby, I left. I drove, and drove and drove some more, as this was making him mercifully quiet. There is no more beautiful silence than the one that follows an hour long melt down. After circling the block about 7 times, I feel safe to take him in. I creep into the house, all the while rocking the car seat. Must. Keep. Moving. I take him out, ever so gently and start to put him down and, oh sweet baby Jesus, the screaming commences. I feel my eyes getting misty. This is the worst feeling as a mom....what could be wrong?? Fresh diaper, well rested, rejected bottle so can't be hungry...
And then.
I have this epiphany. A literal light bulb over my teeny, tiny, sleep deprived brain that turns on. This is my conversation with myself as Garret's at work late so I must work this out on my own:
"He usually only cries like this when he's hungry. But he won't take the bottle. Maybe the oatmeal is bothering his tummy. The oatmeal. It's thick. Maybe too thick....".
The nipple.is.too.small.stupid.
The hole is too smaaaaaaalllllll! Uuuuggghhhhh. Put baby down, run, literally, sprint to the kitchen, grab next nipple size up, place on bottle and surprise, surprise, quiet, STARVING baby, inhaling food like Doomsday is tomorrow.
I can't decide what's worse: that I am capable of such asinine behavior or that this is my second child. Have I learned nothing?! My saving grace: Garret, who after hearing the story says "ahhh, it's fine, he won't remember a thing." As he's trying to make me feel less inadequate, I look down at my now, happy, satisfied and content baby and he's smiling at me. Smiling at his stupid but oh- so- loving mother. I decide it's ok. Chalk it up as a bad day. I've had a bunch and let there be no mistake about it, there will be more. I'm not horrible mother and he's not scarred for life. I, on the other hand, may not get over it for a while.
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