I’ve seen these helpful “during your pregnancy” emails and tidbits recently. One of the recent ones I read was reminding mommies-to-be that you cannot expect to be perfect in everything you do, i.e. growing a baby while being the perfect mom, career-person, etc. Now, I am definitely not a perfectionist by any stretch, but I hate the feeling of having nothing in my control whatsoever.
My day yesterday started off like this:
Had an 8 am municipal meeting (which I wasn’t entirely prepared for) and had to get the Shmoo to day care by 7:25 or so. At 7:18 (still 10 minutes from day care), I’m driving out of the neighborhood and bite into the egg sandwich my wonderful wife made me on the fly.
She didn’t break the yolk.
Guess what happened?
More egg yolk than could possibly come out of an egg just EXPLODED in my car. It was on the arm and front of my suit jacket, down the leg of my pants, on the floor mat, on the steering wheel, on the seat belt and even on the gear shift. I pulled over to the side of the road stunned for a minute debating what to do. I couldn’t just wipe it off and go about my day. I spun the car around and heading home. I might have taken the hill by my house a little fast because the Shmoo was in the back seat going “WEEEEEEEEEE!”
I ran into the house looking for something else to wear.
Now, when one is 7 months pregnant and can get away with business/professional attire but not suits everyday, it’s a really big deal to have something really professional ready to wear. My one really professional outfit was now dripping with egg yolk.
I threw something on, got back in the car and tried my best to drive like a responsible mom with my child in the back seat rather than a lunatic late for a stupid meeting.
As I pull into the day care parking lot – close to 7:43 am, the back door of my car flies open. WTF?
I look and Shmoo and ask “did you do that?” and he just giggled.
I was thankfully just pulling into parking spot and only going about .5 mph but my heart was still racing. As soon as I got to his door to get him out, I flipped that child safety switch on the inside of the door (note to self – when I take that off because I have adults in the back seat, make sure to put back on when reinstalling car seat for the child).
Arms loaded with extra pull-ups, blanket, lunch bag and a Lightning.McQueen that just HAD to come to day care with us, I got through the front door and was greeted by the director of the day care.
“ummm hi,” she said and she was peering past my into the parking lot. “Did Shmoo just open your car door as you were pulling in?”
Awesome. Not only did it happen but the director of the day care witnessed my mother-of-the-year moment as well….
I tried to explain and just couldn’t even muster a good excuse.
Needless to say, I was back in my car at 7:48 or so and was determined to make it to the meeting on time even though it was still a good 15 plus minutes away. As I was going about 80 in a 55 zone (ok, I drive a hybrid, maybe I was going about 72), I realized that my wallet, license and PBA card were probably all in Lo’s car. So, I slowed down. A little.
Made it to Town Hall by 8:06. Rushed into the building, briefcase and redwells in hand….only to run into the first selectman’s secretary who said “sorry, we just had to cancel.”
Considering the fact that I wasn’t really prepared anyway, I was not crushed. It gave me a chance to go home and wash my original clothes in a quick wash before setting out to a funeral (that was rough too).
By the time I got to the office, I was exhausted.
That night, we had a discipline moment with the Shmoo that became a 1.5 hour battle to get him to pick up some of the mess he had made. Halfway into the struggle, my mother had called and Ms. Assertive Discipline herself told me that I have to realize that while you can always take something away, you cannot force a 2.5 yr old to do something. I should give him a choice and if he is not going to do what we want, we may have to move on. I didn’t like this theory and was convinced that we would win. We are the parents.
After what was closer to 2 hours, we had tried time outs, we tried putting him straight to bed with the gate up in his room, we tried taking away his nightly watching of Curious.George, we tried EVERYTHING and that kid was never picking up the crap. I was pretty sure that about every neighbor in a 100 yard span was ready to call DCF, the kid was screaming so badly (this was during the time we put him in his room with the gate up). I think we were both ready to strangle him when we finally gave up and Lo calmed him down in his room until he fell asleep.
Wouldn’t you know, in the morning, he was heading down the stairs when he saw the mess from the night before. He smiled at me and announced “Mess!” then proceeded to pick up the items and place them in the basket before going about his day. The little shit.
I’m finding that my coping skills for days like these are waning slightly.
The day before, I think I had what can be considered my first hormonal pregnancy mood swing. I was beyond pissy with Lo when I announced I was hungry at 11:30 am when we were out shopping and by 2 pm, we still had not fed the cranky hungry pregnant lady. I just about had a breakdown.
I guess I really should try to fit that yoga dvd into my schedule. It might help everyone around me.
