Last night, the hubs and I went out to a comedy show, a gift I had gotten him months ago for his birthday. We had the day all planned out: drop the kid off at grandma's, go to some open houses nearby, head to a quick dinner and then off to see the show. An almost full day of just the two of us doing adult stuff and spending time together. It was going to be awesome.
My husband said it best: "The best laid plans..." *eye roll, shrug* That's because right when we were getting dressed and getting his bag packed up to leave, the kiddo decided to pukeface all over the couch and floor. This followed an epic diarrhea diaper earlier that morning. And he had been fighting something for the last couple of days, as this was the fourth or fifth pukeface since Thursday of last week. But in our defense, we had been lulled into a false sense of security that everything was ok, because the previous day came and went with no alarming bodily fluid ejections.
Obviously we didn't feel right taking a pukeface, mud butt toddler over to grandma's house and making it her problem, so we cancelled plans to go to the open houses, and the hubs went to Costco to grab something for dinner. My saint of a mother-in-law agreed to just come to our house and watch the kiddo while we went to the show later in the evening. Oh, and he puked all over himself and the couch while we were gone, so she ended up having to deal with that, and she washed the soiled clothes, blanket, couch cover, etc. A saint, I tell you.
As we left the show that night, my husband thanked me for getting the tickets, and I made a comment along the lines of "well we never really celebrate each other's birthdays or anniversary with any significance anymore, so I wanted to actually make an effort this year." And we chatted for a minute about how having a kid has changed the way we prioritize each other and has basically pushed most things to the back burner, including our own birthdays and what not. (Case in point: we still haven't made it to the fancy restaurant I wanted to go to for Mother's Day this past year) I mused "maybe with this next baby we will be more relaxed and laid back, since it's coming in the spring and we will have more opportunity to get out and about earlier." (We had our son in the dead of winter, so obviously I didn't leave the house for three months) And then I remembered how neurotic and anxious I am about everything and I laughed at myself for thinking I could ever be relaxed with a newborn.
At lunch this past weekend, an ADULT lunch with my husband, brother and SIL (we threw our kids at my parents and ran for it), my SIL and I joked about how much we crave adults only time or alone time, but when we're actually away from our babies we miss them and just want to get back to them. Of course, my husband had a different opinion:
SIL: "But don't you ever miss him when you do actually get time away from him and want to get back and see him?"
Husband: "No! You have to take full advantage of the time away and enjoy yourself!"
I made the point that one of the reasons why I miss my kid when I'm away from him, even just for a couple of hours, is because I work full time, I'm not a stay-at-home mom, and when I do spend time with him during the week, it's morning and evening routines in order to stay on schedule, which can feel regimented and restricted rather than actual quality time. So I really try to maximize our time together on the weekend. For better or worse, I like to have lazy mornings on the weekend, snuggling, watching cartoons and eating cereal in bed and not getting dressed for the day until at least the ten o'clock hour. I know toddlers need to stay on a schedule, even on the weekends, but I figure we have five days a week we are rushed and hurried in the mornings and evenings; two days a week of getting off course isn't going to kill us.
Recently, I had a particularly challenging morning where everyone was running late, I was stressed and trying to get the kid fed and his teeth brushed as quickly as possible so that we could try to get to school/work on time, and then my kid decided mid-way through breakfast that he had to poop and wanted to sit on the potty. As a mom who has been trying to encourage using the potty as much as possible, who was I to deny my kid when he requested to use the potty?? Obviously, I already knew as we dilly-dallied up the stairs that I was going to be late for work, so I texted my boss who should've fired me a long time ago for tardiness that I was going to be late to work because of my "goddamn kid." He didn't end up pooping on the potty (go figure), but he did poop in his diaper about five minutes after getting off the potty.
I've never really wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, but that morning, I wanted nothing more than to shed the stress and frantic morning pace of trying to be on time and have the serenity of knowing that if my kid wanted to spend thirty minutes trying to shit on the potty, that he could and being late to work wouldn't be a consequence. On the other hand, work gives me the opportunity to be among adults and have the adult time that I know I want and need. I have a sneaking suspicion that if I decide to stay home and not work after baby #2 is born, I will be much more willing and enthusiastic to prioritize adult time into my routine as a way to stay sane and connected to other grown-ups. However, these days with kids and jobs and families, the opportunity to spend time with friends isn't always a sure thing. At least with a job, you're guaranteed a daily dose of time with other adults.
I know there are pros and cons to being a stay at home mom, as well as being a working mom. I'm doing the working mom thing now, and while I'm hesitant to let that go (bye-bye, financial independence...yikes) I do think it might be worth it to give staying at home a try. I know I can always get a job later if I really need/want to. But any major transitions or changes give me anxiety, so I haven't yet completely made up my mind. Maybe I'll wait and see how late I'm running tomorrow morning and revisit the issue.
