Skip to main content

My anxiety is possibly out of proportion to the situation, or it is exactly appropriate

I'm pretty nervous about taking a 12-hour road trip with Mamie tomorrow.  When I think, "12 hours in a car with a toddler," anxiety seems warranted. But we've done this trip with her twice before in the last year.  We took a six-hour trip with her just at Thanksgiving.  What could go wrong?  Well, she could start crying when we get in the car and not stop until we get to Atmore.  I suppose if she were going to cry 12 straight hours, she could do it on any day, regardless of the setting. Ok, ok we'll be fine.



Mamie is 15 months old today.  She is crazy.  She climbs all the furniture, throws all the food, and refuses to be tamed into wearing shoes or barrettes. She also gives really sweet hugs and blows kisses.  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

On not waiting for the perfect time

When I got pregnant the second time, I was waiting for that stage to end before I would live my life. Exercise, activities with kids, travel, writing, house projects... Then after the Lizzie came and things were so complicated, I still found myself waiting until she was older, waiting to get out of tangle of doctor appointments.  Then I was planning to start life after both kids were in school, at least three years away! Enough!  Anything I want to do can be adapted to start now, incorporating the kids and whatever challenges we face in our plans.  Some dreams may be better suited for the future, but there will be no more blanket attitude of putting things off for later when it would presumably be easier or less busy. 
There is no perfect time, but the best time could be now.

On the topic of stuff I don't want to do: Cook dinner

Saturday night I tried really hard to get out of cooking dinner. No, I'm not perpetually steam-drenched, hunched over the stove every night, just looking for one night off. I have just about every night off because Nick cooks most of the time, and when it's my turn, I tap into my arsenal of delivery services.

This is not how my mama raised me.

Saturday night, I did, very begrudgingly, grate carrots and sauté bokchoy and glaze chicken. Nick said, "You don't seem to like cooking." But... but... but, I wanted to defend myself, I know how to cook; I used to cook; I used to like cooking.

Things change.

For example, kids. Feeding kids for the last 4.5 years has consumed me, no apology for the pun. My obsession with managing their growth and nutrition is totally separate from cooking. It's a mental tally of macronutrients and micronutrients; it's creating the perfect veggie snack plate with every cucumber slice salted; it's composing and blending superfood sm…

2018 So Far: Killing it

I was prepared to ask for a do-over on Week 1 of 2018. I have legit excuses, right? Husband rang in the new year in a hospital bed far away from home? We barely got back home by midnight on Wednesday -- half the week was gone before it even started!

Last night (Saturday), I was about 50 percent done with my ambitious plans for the week.

But it turns out that Sunday can be a powerful day for productivity. Today, a miracle happened: I unpacked my suitcase less than a week after returning from a trip.
Then another miracle happened: I organized my sock drawer.
And another: I convinced Nick to run an errand and bring me coffee while I took a bath in the middle of the afternoon.
As it turns out, this whole week telescoped to pack in so many things a normal, less magical week would not have accommodated:
We spent three extra days in Atmore with family, and got to see a full supermoon in the country -- it would not have been possible from our house in San Antonio.Lizzie used that bonus grandpa…