So I am approaching 4 successful weeks of motherhood. I qualify these weeks as successful due to the fact that she is alive and happy. She is nourished, Booby Tuesdays (my very witty brother came up with this terminology :) has been open round the clock. She poops, I change the diapers. She occasionally cries, and I comfort. She sleeps, and I just stare in amazement, most times because I am so in love and on occasion because my eyes are making sure they are not playing tricks on me. Could it be? She's really sleeping? :)
I've already experienced a few "mommy moments"...you know those temporary lapses in memory and competence...could be otherwise known as sleep deprivation...haha. One morning after my "wiggle worm" had literally shimmed out of her pajama bottoms and diaper, leaving an explosive dose of poop in her crib, I of course needed to change the crib sheet (what a pain). I was feeling quite accomplished due to the fact that while she cozily slept I managed to get a shower, scarf a bowl of cereal and start a load of laundry. But minutes later my washer, that has seen it's better days, got off balance and was causing earthquake like tremors through the house. I rushed down to the basement, opened the washer and started rearranging the laundry and what did I discover? A DIRTY DIAPER! And trust me, I'm not using cloth diapers...this was a dirty disposable, one of about a thousand that were laying in the hallway waiting to be put in the trash, but that got scooped up with the sheets. I had to laugh. Nothing like adding a little extra poo to really see what the laundry detergent could do :)
Later while scurrying to a doctor appointment, with intentions of being on time and walking into the waiting room looking like the put-together AND got-it-together NEW mom, Haven's pacifier fell out of her mouth and she was NOT happy about it. I didn't want my child to see the doctor (especially one that is George Clooney Esq, and those are MY HUSBANDS words) for only the second time with a purple face and bulging veins in her head. So while attempting to keep safety first, I whipped it into Turkey Hill to reinsert the Nuk. But promptness was a key factor in pulling off the got-it-together mom look and so when pulling out of Turkey Hill, I gave it a little PUNCH if you know what I mean. Unfortunately I punched it right out in front of a cop. I couldn't believe it. My tires even screeched. Horrible. I went into intercessory prayer for about 5 seconds and was relieved when the light immediately turned green and I turned right and well...he DIDN'T.
So while I am considered a stay-at-home mom now, I don't really prefer to stay at home, although it is necessary from time to time with a newborn. But neither Haven or myself has been shy about getting out over the last 3 weeks. A few days ago we got home from the mall and I noticed that my side office door was hanging wide open. Hmmm? At first I was a little concerned and then I quickly realized it was ME. I had remembered everything except that little task you typically do, especially when you live along a VERY busy road, and that is to CLOSE and LOCK the door. I was relieved when I came inside to find my computer, camera, flat screen TV, and well food for that matter, all still belonged to me and had not found their way out my gaping door, that shouted, "come steal from me."
But my greatest epic fail to date happened on Friday. Numerous moms had informed me that they found it simpler to just put their wallet in their diaper bag rather than carrying a diaper bag and purse. I remember thinking to myself..."oh, not me...I can't imagine not carrying my purse." But they were right. It's too much to lug around. So I've been using my diaper bag, except for Thursday night when I had to go to a business meeting and figured my black purse would look a tad more professional than my very cutesy Petunia Pickle Bottom diaper bag. You are probably beginning to figure out what happened. Yep, I forgot to stick my wallet back into the diaper bag. I had to travel to Mechanicsburg to meet a friend to pick something up from her and 60 miles of gas doesn't suffice when you have a 100 miles to drive round trip. I noticed as I was on my way down 283 that I had about 60 miles of gas left. No biggie. I figured I would stop on my way back for gas, not even realizing at this point that I had forgotten my wallet. So I met Destiny at Panera, and it's there that I realize....NO WALLET, but alas...I had $30.00 of cash in an envelope. That's what you call FAVOR, and it was unless you are brain dead and forget in the moment that you need gas on the way home! Oh so what did I do? I enjoyed a cup of soup and paid Destiny the $25.00 that I owed her and was on my merry way. But things didn't stay so merry when I was down to 9 miles of gas, about to exit and realized I HAVE NO WALLET and that I had used my $30.00 of cash...brilliant. I convinced myself not to panic, barely avoided crying, but am pleased to say that breaking into an instant sweat was really the only side effect.
my itty bitty that was in the back seat. She had been so good...was snoozing away, but was way overdue to eat. I had to get home so I could feed my child that doesn't weigh much more than a bag of sugar, plus to be honest I was beginning to feel like Dolly Parton in a training bra. This combination of pressures, some being quite literal, were not facilitating in the got-it-together new mom image...haha :)
I dashed off the Swatara exit and pulled into Sunoco counting on finding some loose change. But I'm one of those weird people that use their loose change to go through the car wash or to buy a water at the gym. I rummaged through the diaper bag and almost shed a tear when I found a dollar. A whole dollar, which was critical considering I only found $1.25 in change through out my vehicle. So I had $2.25, that would get me a gallon right? Wrong...I had NO idea how much gas cost. I never look. I just get gas. I mean when you need it you're going to have to buy it at whatever price it is. I gingerly handed the Indian man standing behind the counter my dollar and then my handful of change. I smiled and with a little quirk in my voice lightheartedly said, "forgot my wallet". He didn't smile back. He literally laid the change on the counter and proceeded to count it, penny by penny. He then had the nerve to hand me back a Canadian penny, which I promise had innocently made its way into the mix, and with his large dark eyes decided to give me the stare down. I knew what this meant. He wanted another penny. I gave him the stare right back and without breaking eye contact I grabbed the lone penny I saw in my peripheral vision in the "give a penny" jar and handed it to him. Take that Mr. Meany cashier guy.
I've never been more thankful that my sister Heather lived in Mount Joy. I was going to need those 7 miles to turn into about 17. When I hopped in my car and started down the road my gas mileage didn't budge. It stayed stubbornly at 7 miles. That's when I realized that gas must be a little more than I thought :) I called my sister, and after ranting for a few minutes about how bone headed I was, I asked her to be on standby and informed her that I was going to ride the fumes and a few prayers to her house. And that's exactly what happened. Haven stayed sleeping, I made it to my sister's house where she graciously gave me $20.00 and my mission was complete when I pulled into Turkey Hill. I had escaped the total embarrassment and inconvenience of being a flustered mom with a crying, starving baby stranded along 283 with an empty gas tank...all because I forgot my wallet.
An epic fail. Not my first, and not my last. These are the days when you're thankful you eventually stop sweating and can laugh at yourself, for a child that loves to sleep in the car, a generous sister, and a God that didn't stop his miracle of multiplication with the loaves and fishes. That day I was thankful he obviously turns fumes into fuel and always sees us home.