7:30 am – Make oatmeal, Pipes won’t eat it. Crack open some pop tarts… won’t eat that either.
8:00 am – Zack’s on a conference call (I’m annoyed).
8:40 am – manage to get Pipes and I ready and out the door. Load up the car, then realize her sitter is taking her kiddos to school (aka NOT home) so unload the car, bring Pipes back in to Zack, then head to work (super annoyed).
9:05 am – 5 minutes late to a meeting. (normal stuff)
12:00 pm – My go-to lunch hang out… McDonalds (a #2 + 3 cookies if you’re wondering)
By noon, I’m a stress ball of a nut case who has angry texted my hubby in all caps at least 5 times by now… while trying to figure out childcare for my kid over the next few weeks, amidst juggling a gazillion design projects, and trying to HOLD. IT. ALL. TOGETHER.
5:30 pm – Pick up Pipes from the sitters. Daily report: “been pretty fussy all day. Didn’t eat much either.” (the little one screams the whole way home while tugging at her ear).
6:15 pm – Chick Fil A Drive through on the way to the Urgent Care Walk-in clinic. (Giving myself a pep-talk… “hold it together Ashli, you can’t both be crying hysterically when you get up to the drive-through window”)
7:30 pm – At the urgent care clinic and YUP, you guessed it. BOOM. EAR INFECTION.
8:30 pm – Give Pipes her first dose of medicine, Dad’s turn to put her to bed, and now I finally get to pee.
There were only a million times today that I was on the verge of a breakdown. I only cried a handful of times… I cried once on my way to work while angry texting Zack at every stop light. Once when Adele’s new song came on the radio. (Dangit Adele. Don’t you know I’m on the verge of a breakdown?) I cried in the Chick-fil-A drive through…. but what mom doesn’t, right? And probably a couple of times in-between.
Welcome to motherhood (and pregnancy I guess). Some days, or even weeks, your chest feels like it’s caving in and you swear you can’t do life if one more thing goes wrong. Your kid is crying and it either sounds like white noise by this point or you’re crying with her. Your life feels like your trapped in a tornado that you didn’t sign up for and you can’t figure out where the nearest exit is.
Then you sleep.
You wake up the next day to sleepy chattering coming from the nursery. Your heart flutters to see warm pudgy outstretched arms reaching up for you from the crib. You smile, make a warm cup of coffee, lift your eyes up and take a deep breath.
You can do this.
Love, Mommy on the verge