Mom of the year.

Mom of the year: Reason #1

Since I've deemed myself the over-reaction queen, it's quite contradictory that I'm extremely chill as a parent. I let lots of people hold Anna and have done so since she was just a few minutes old. I embrace this germy earth and allow her to play with other kid's toys and chew on my cell phone because I actually want her to have exposure to germs to build up her immune system. I don't feed her organic foods, I don't roll her around in a plastic bubble to protect her from every coffee table corner, I let my dog lick her face - which she loves, by the way. You get it, I'm chill.

The problem is that methinks I'm a bit too chill.

Now don't get me wrong, Anna's safety is my #1 priority in life, so don't go callin' CPS on me or anything like that, but sometimes I have those stupid mom moments where I look back and ask myself, "Self, what the hell were you thinking?!"

Case in point.

I was running late this morning. That's nothing new. Mondays and Tuesdays are quite hectic now that I have to take Anna to daycare. Cosmo was outside doing his business and decided at a very busy point in my morning that he was ready to come back inside. Instead of patiently waiting by the door like most good dogs, he incessantly barks and jumps UP the door. A barking dog at 7 a.m. does not a good neighbor make, so I knew I needed to get him.

I had Anna on my hip and a temporary moment of ignorance. Why not place her on the bed propped up on a pillow? Sure, her pack-n-play is right next to my bed, and it's completely safe, but it makes much more sense to sit her on an uneven surface with no protection to keep her from falling.

So, that's what I did.

You can guess what happened next.

I ran to get Cosmo. It took me maybe 15 seconds max.

By the time I get back into my bedroom, I glance at the bed. No Anna.

I glance at the floor. Anna.

Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap. Holy crap.

Holy crap.

You get the point.

I let go of Cosmo, he ran into the laundry room to dine on cat crap from the litterbox (oh the joys of dog ownership).

I ran to scoop up my little baby. I examined every square inch of her body 15 times to ensure that there were no breaks, welts, scratches or cuts. She was fine, but mom wasn't. I just sat there and mentally scolded myself for about 10 minutes. What was I thinking? She's more mobile now, I know that.

She cried for 1.2 seconds and then she was her typical happy self. All was well in Anna land.

Or so I thought.

Mom of the year: Reason #2

Ever since starting daycare, Anna has had a cold. She's snotty, she's congested, she's icky icky poo poo. (<--- I heard a 5 year old say that once and decided I wanted to use it in this blog.)

I've been giving her saline drops and sucking her nose out with those bulb thingys. Seemed to do the trick. However, the night I used a humidifier in our room, all hell broke loose. Bastard humidifier.

Soon after that she started couging like she'd been smoking 10 packs of Camels for 70 years. It was nasty. It made MY chest hurt. So, I called her pediatrician and made an appointment for today. Once I get there the Dr. checks her out and says her lungs are clear. Score. They ARE? Then she takes out the ear thingy. God, I'm so up on medical terminology, aren't I? Shudder - Anna has an ear infection in BOTH ears, and it's not just any ear infection, it's a "very bad" ear infection (per her Dr.).

Great, lovely, mom of the year.

How could I not know that my own child had a massive ear infection?

Know how I didn't know? It's b/c she's seriously the most chillaxed baby on the planet. She's always happy, hardly ever fusses - she's an absolute dream. Maybe she didn't want to complain. Maybe she did and I just chalked it up to 1) teething 2) gas 3) tiredness 4) gas 5) gas.

So, two expensive antibiotics later, here I sit typing this blog while my child is in bed trying to fight this crap off. I need some mommy points now, something to redeem my Mom of the Year status. Perhaps I should come up with a new Girl Scout cookie flavor or try to raise $10k for Johnny's little league team. Not that I know any kids named Johnny.

Intervention?

As many of you know, yesterday was Anna’s first day at daycare. For the past 6+ months, my father-in-law has been watching her on Mondays and Tuesdays, and my sister watches her on Thursdays – I work from home on Wed/Fri. Got that? It’s been so nice not having to send her to a germ-infested place, but I knew that setup wasn’t permanent, so I bit the bullet and finally enrolled her.

When I went to pick her up yesterday, things were, shall we say, interesting. As soon as I walked in the door, I was met with the following words…

“Yo’ baby is big!”

Me: “Huh?” (looking around to see from where this odd voice was coming)

I was greeted with this:

***WARNING PURE NASTINESS AHEAD***






Scared yet? Confused? Yeah, me too.

Some woman, two steps from Intervention material, was sitting on the floor and shelling out random tidbits about how unusually large my child was. I’m not one of *those* mothers who takes offense at comments like this – I actually take it as a compliment. I know she’s healthy – I get validation from her Pediatrician who has had many years of schooling to tell me this. Plus, her pedi has had appropriate dental care and is still in possession of all of her teeth. This lady was not. Even from across the room, I could tell this lady had a mouth that would do any meth addict proud. Why she was there, I do not know, but she did go on to tell me at least 5 more times that my daughter was unusually large.

So my daughter is a heifer, what’s it to ya, mush mouth?

On a side note, her teacher kept calling her Hannah and even wrote that name on a bin for her. I’m still a little undecided about this place. We shall see how this pans out.

Anna is now the daycare queen.

My little one arrived at daycare bright and early this morning. Mom is fine.

(I think.)

Daycare.

Tomorrow marks the start of Anna’s daycare career, and I can’t say I’m too excited or happy about it. The only consolation is that she’ll be within walking distance to my work, so I’ll be at peace knowing she’s so close by. We’ve been very blessed/lucky thus far that she’s been so healthy – we haven’t had one day of sickness since she came home from the hospital (she’s over 6 months old now). Now I need to knock on some major wood and brace myself b/c I have a feeling that the daycare germs are soon to invade. Oy!

Lord, grant me the strength to deal with this!