Jamie has slept most of the way through the night for the past two nights. It’s a relief, and if he can just manage to keep it up for a week or two more, I might just remember what it feels like to be well-rested. As it is, the extra sleep has put me right back into the cycle I faced a couple of weeks ago: more sleep = my body’s realization of how tired I am and how much I need even more sleep. So. Extra coffee today!
Parenting, for me, seems to be a series of unnecessary worries. Tony would absolutely agree! If there’s one thing I do too much of, it’s laundry. If there’s another thing, it’s worrying.
I worry because, well, if I don’t, horrible things will happen. Right? Isn’t that how it works? The things I worry about seldom come to pass, of course, but that’s how mothers operate. Especially new mothers, since that squalling infant is a complete and total mystery and every. little. thing. could spell DOOM.
I would argue that I am still a new mom to Charles. After all, he’s my first, so I don’t have any experience with the stage he’s going through now and the one he’ll go through next. And yes, I worry a little less about some things with Jamie because, been there, done that, but he’s an entirely different kid and some things need worrying over even still.
And I know, I know they’re petty, inconsequential things, but I cannot help myself.
Like Jamie’s damned teeth. He has seven. He’s had seven for five months. He’s exhibited all the signs of further teething in those five months: epic drooling, crankiness, an inability to sleep for more than five minutes without laying his head on MY FACE, shoving his entire fist in his mouth, etc. - but still no new teeth. And now I’m worried that his teeth are growing in all wrong, sideways and underneath the teeth that are already there and we’ll have to do oral surgery and these two nights of decent sleep are about to be RIPPED away from me because tonight he’ll probably start screaming about his painful monster teeth and then people will eventually start whispering behind my back about my beautiful baby boy with the crazy Bat Boy mouth of every-which-way teeth. AAAAAA!
Now that that scenario has played out in my head, though, I’ll be so relieved if the teeth come in properly and in a timely manner.
A few months ago, I was pretty worried about Charles. He wet his pants all the time. I thought it was stubbornness! And maybe it was! But we also visited a chiropractor (covered by insurance, which is nice, but I didn’t know that when I made the appointment, so you must understand that making that call was preceded by the anguish of deciding to spend good money on something that might not work AT ALL) a couple of times and lo and behold, a month later and Charles has gone two weeks without an accident! Two weeks without doing that ridiculous pee-pee dance that makes my heart and my head hurt. I mean, seriously, child. Why wait until you are already wetting yourself or dancing in place before you go to the bathroom? Why wait until you have to change your clothes? It only means that you have to leave off playing for even longer, when a bathroom trip in time would have been thirty seconds or less!
But just try to reason with a three-year-old. Go ahead, I DARE YOU.
For all my worrying that something was seriously wrong with Charles, either physically or mentally, everything seems to have worked itself out. Maybe it was the chiropractic care. Maybe it was just time.
Is that my lesson? Sit back, stop worrying, let time take care of things? That just sounds foolish. If I don’t worry, who will?