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My mother keeps asking me if Chris is getting nervous about watching the kids by himself this weekend. I keep saying, "what's to be nervous about? It'll be exhausting, but he can handle it." And I know he can. If he's nervous, he would never admit it anyway.
The truth is, I think I'm beginning to get a little nervous about it. This afternoon, I left for a yoga class as my daughter's nose was pressed to the sliding glass door, crocodile tears running down her face, her lips mouthing the word "Nooooooooo!" She is quite attached to Mommy lately. Mommy gets her out of her crib in the morning. Mommy gives her the first sippy cup of milk. Mommy holds her while she sits on my lap watching Sesame Street and sucking her thumb. Mommy takes her to school on days her baby brother also goes. Mommy puts her lunch in her refrigerator cubby and scrutinizes her info sheets and asks a lot of questions--probably too many--at pick up. Mommy bathes her, brushes her teeth, reads her bedtime book and puts her down for night night. That's not to say that Chris doesn't have things he does for her, too. But lately, she just prefers Mommy do these things for her, and it's become our routine.
Then, there's the baby. Only 8 1/2 months old. Mommy gets up with him every morning when he wakes up, which is usually before 6. I'm actually lucky if he sleeps 'til 6. There's a special bottle I use for mornings, because it has a slower nipple. Chris doesn't know about that. He's clingy in the mornings lately, so I can't really get much internet reading done like I used to because he crawls to my leg and looks up at me with those pleading eyes. They seem to say, "Pick me up Mommy. Hold me." But when I do, he lurches away, grabbing at something whether something is there or not. So, I put him back down. Sometimes he's happy again and crawls away. Sometimes he fusses and I have to find something that will make him happy again: wooden toys to knaw on, magazines with pages to crumple, stuffed animals to cuddle. Sometimes he's energetic and sometimes he gets tired and seems to want a nap after he's only been up for an hour. Sometimes not. He is unpredictable and there is no "what to expect" that I can write on a cheat sheet for Chris to follow. He'll just have to go with the flow. The flow that starts at 5:30 sometimes, a good two hours earlier than he's used to getting up.
I don't worry about Chris taking good care of the kids. I know he will. He will do things his own way, probably even find better ways to do them. And in the process, things will change. The routine will get disrupted and I'll come home and have to relearn how to take care of my kids. The bond we've established will get thinner and I'll have to build it up again.
I don't feel guilty about going away. Most of me is so ecstatic about getting on that plane alone. I can't even remember the last time I went anywhere alone. But there's that part of me that knows I can never leave, no matter how far away I go. That knows the minute I do get on that plane alone, I will be overcome with longing for the smell of my son's ears (they smell like Cheetos, I don't know why, it's weird) and the sound of my daughter sucking her thumb (even though it drives me crazy and is beginning to gross me out a little).
I know everything will be fine while I'm gone. But there's that little tinge of uneasiness, because I'm in control of so much, and leaving the helm of my household is going to feel so disorienting.
Last weekend when we went away without the kids to Chicago, I remember looking down at a quarter that had fallen out of Chris's pocket onto the floor of our hotel room. And I thought to myself, "I better pick that up before the Lil' Man chokes on it." Even though he was five states away at the time.
That's just crazy isn't it?
Or is that just motherhood?
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
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2 comments:
That is so sweet. The best thing about being gone is coming back home. Getting the opportunity to miss them is a blessing. : )
hey, s. i'm here. room 1693.
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My mother keeps asking me if Chris is getting nervous about watching the kids by himself this weekend. I keep saying, "what's to be nervous about? It'll be exhausting, but he can handle it." And I know he can. If he's nervous, he would never admit it anyway.
The truth is, I think I'm beginning to get a little nervous about it. This afternoon, I left for a yoga class as my daughter's nose was pressed to the sliding glass door, crocodile tears running down her face, her lips mouthing the word "Nooooooooo!" She is quite attached to Mommy lately. Mommy gets her out of her crib in the morning. Mommy gives her the first sippy cup of milk. Mommy holds her while she sits on my lap watching Sesame Street and sucking her thumb. Mommy takes her to school on days her baby brother also goes. Mommy puts her lunch in her refrigerator cubby and scrutinizes her info sheets and asks a lot of questions--probably too many--at pick up. Mommy bathes her, brushes her teeth, reads her bedtime book and puts her down for night night. That's not to say that Chris doesn't have things he does for her, too. But lately, she just prefers Mommy do these things for her, and it's become our routine.
Then, there's the baby. Only 8 1/2 months old. Mommy gets up with him every morning when he wakes up, which is usually before 6. I'm actually lucky if he sleeps 'til 6. There's a special bottle I use for mornings, because it has a slower nipple. Chris doesn't know about that. He's clingy in the mornings lately, so I can't really get much internet reading done like I used to because he crawls to my leg and looks up at me with those pleading eyes. They seem to say, "Pick me up Mommy. Hold me." But when I do, he lurches away, grabbing at something whether something is there or not. So, I put him back down. Sometimes he's happy again and crawls away. Sometimes he fusses and I have to find something that will make him happy again: wooden toys to knaw on, magazines with pages to crumple, stuffed animals to cuddle. Sometimes he's energetic and sometimes he gets tired and seems to want a nap after he's only been up for an hour. Sometimes not. He is unpredictable and there is no "what to expect" that I can write on a cheat sheet for Chris to follow. He'll just have to go with the flow. The flow that starts at 5:30 sometimes, a good two hours earlier than he's used to getting up.
I don't worry about Chris taking good care of the kids. I know he will. He will do things his own way, probably even find better ways to do them. And in the process, things will change. The routine will get disrupted and I'll come home and have to relearn how to take care of my kids. The bond we've established will get thinner and I'll have to build it up again.
I don't feel guilty about going away. Most of me is so ecstatic about getting on that plane alone. I can't even remember the last time I went anywhere alone. But there's that part of me that knows I can never leave, no matter how far away I go. That knows the minute I do get on that plane alone, I will be overcome with longing for the smell of my son's ears (they smell like Cheetos, I don't know why, it's weird) and the sound of my daughter sucking her thumb (even though it drives me crazy and is beginning to gross me out a little).
I know everything will be fine while I'm gone. But there's that little tinge of uneasiness, because I'm in control of so much, and leaving the helm of my household is going to feel so disorienting.
Last weekend when we went away without the kids to Chicago, I remember looking down at a quarter that had fallen out of Chris's pocket onto the floor of our hotel room. And I thought to myself, "I better pick that up before the Lil' Man chokes on it." Even though he was five states away at the time.
That's just crazy isn't it?
Or is that just motherhood?
Mommy go bye bye
The truth is, I think I'm beginning to get a little nervous about it. This afternoon, I left for a yoga class as my daughter's nose was pressed to the sliding glass door, crocodile tears running down her face, her lips mouthing the word "Nooooooooo!" She is quite attached to Mommy lately. Mommy gets her out of her crib in the morning. Mommy gives her the first sippy cup of milk. Mommy holds her while she sits on my lap watching Sesame Street and sucking her thumb. Mommy takes her to school on days her baby brother also goes. Mommy puts her lunch in her refrigerator cubby and scrutinizes her info sheets and asks a lot of questions--probably too many--at pick up. Mommy bathes her, brushes her teeth, reads her bedtime book and puts her down for night night. That's not to say that Chris doesn't have things he does for her, too. But lately, she just prefers Mommy do these things for her, and it's become our routine.
Then, there's the baby. Only 8 1/2 months old. Mommy gets up with him every morning when he wakes up, which is usually before 6. I'm actually lucky if he sleeps 'til 6. There's a special bottle I use for mornings, because it has a slower nipple. Chris doesn't know about that. He's clingy in the mornings lately, so I can't really get much internet reading done like I used to because he crawls to my leg and looks up at me with those pleading eyes. They seem to say, "Pick me up Mommy. Hold me." But when I do, he lurches away, grabbing at something whether something is there or not. So, I put him back down. Sometimes he's happy again and crawls away. Sometimes he fusses and I have to find something that will make him happy again: wooden toys to knaw on, magazines with pages to crumple, stuffed animals to cuddle. Sometimes he's energetic and sometimes he gets tired and seems to want a nap after he's only been up for an hour. Sometimes not. He is unpredictable and there is no "what to expect" that I can write on a cheat sheet for Chris to follow. He'll just have to go with the flow. The flow that starts at 5:30 sometimes, a good two hours earlier than he's used to getting up.
I don't worry about Chris taking good care of the kids. I know he will. He will do things his own way, probably even find better ways to do them. And in the process, things will change. The routine will get disrupted and I'll come home and have to relearn how to take care of my kids. The bond we've established will get thinner and I'll have to build it up again.
I don't feel guilty about going away. Most of me is so ecstatic about getting on that plane alone. I can't even remember the last time I went anywhere alone. But there's that part of me that knows I can never leave, no matter how far away I go. That knows the minute I do get on that plane alone, I will be overcome with longing for the smell of my son's ears (they smell like Cheetos, I don't know why, it's weird) and the sound of my daughter sucking her thumb (even though it drives me crazy and is beginning to gross me out a little).
I know everything will be fine while I'm gone. But there's that little tinge of uneasiness, because I'm in control of so much, and leaving the helm of my household is going to feel so disorienting.
Last weekend when we went away without the kids to Chicago, I remember looking down at a quarter that had fallen out of Chris's pocket onto the floor of our hotel room. And I thought to myself, "I better pick that up before the Lil' Man chokes on it." Even though he was five states away at the time.
That's just crazy isn't it?
Or is that just motherhood?