Sunday, January 5, 2014

Waiting for Chaos

Ask and you shall receive. Just make sure you're very specific about what you want.

I am asking for the chaos of childbirth, bringing home a newborn, and changing our family structure for ever after.

What I get instead....

My brilliant plan was to simultaneously distract myself and have a family outing -just the three of us - today. It started out well. We enjoyed ourselves acting like kids playing games and eating pizza at Chuck E. Cheese's. My first round of skee ball, though, I realized it would be my last. Leaning down that far and reaching and tossing rubbery balls was seriously not as fun pregnant as it would have been 9 months ago.

Maya was cute on the rides she chose, especially the hot cocoa cup ride. She learned to play Fruit Ninja on a huge touchscreen TV. That was fun. She actually kicked my ass at it. I couldn't keep up.

I pushed myself too far, though. I have a bad habit of doing that. Been doing it for years. By the time we left, it was all I could do to collapse in the passenger seat and not whine about all my aches and pains. On the drive home, Maya was eating the cotton candy I'd bought her, and she freaked out about the stickiness on her fingers. Whining, crying, yelling, "Get it off of me!"

I lost it. I raised my voice and told her I'd never buy her another stinking cotton candy if she continued to act that way.

While I'm fairly certain she got over it right away, and after I gave her a wet wipe to clean up with, she went on with her day playing and having a good time. I, on the other hand, went and cried in bed for a while. Sobbed may be a more accurate term. Thought terrible things about myself, about pregnancy, about my family.

After a nap, I felt a little better. I decided to distract myself in productive ways while also taking periodic breaks. I organized a little of our chaos. I invented two new "scents" for my Maman Sucre bath salts. I watched TV. I lit candles.

Then.... Dinner. My back was turned, James was on his phone, and Maya was dancing and spinning around the area where the dining table and living room meet. I hear her say, "Uh oh!" followed by a loud thunk, and then a whole lot of screaming. James rushed her to the couch while I grabbed tissues and an ice pack.

She had bashed her nose against the edge of the table - not the corner, thank God! - and we were terrified she'd broken it. After much screaming, crying, a ton of tissues, two ice packs, and a wet towel, I went in search of an aspirator. You know the one they send home with a newborn? Well, four and a half years living with not just one but two very disorganized people means I did not find what  I was looking for despite the fact that I nearly tore apart the whole house.

When she finally calmed down a bit, she nodded off on the floor on a blanket while her daddy stroked her hair and held the ice pack. It was one of those mental pictures I hope never to forget.

The rest of the evening has been, well, odd. Maya still hasn't fallen asleep. She can't seem to relax. So, James and I will just keep watch and hope she does okay through the night. I'm sure she will. She's tender and tough...just like her parents.

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