Maybe the universe sensed my growing anxiety as a result of overbooking myself, because we ended up deciding to cancel the vacation due to COVID-19. It's unfortunate timing because I was really looking forward to a vacation and a change of scenery, but it's not like we didn't have enough to do here at home with the new house. However, now we're facing down a whole other set of challenges with the pandemic: the work we wanted to have done at the house prior to moving in may not happen due to the governor shutting down nonessential businesses; the proximity of giving birth to a possible spike in numbers of infected people in the state causing all kinds of fresh anxiety for me; a delay in being able to move and not being in the new house by the time the baby is born. Fucking hell.
All of these things weren't even a blip on the radar a few months ago. Just goes to show you what a rapid-fire novel virus can do to your plans, I guess.
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UPDATE: since I'm a procrastinator and didn't finish the above post in a timely fashion, I have some happy news to share. Turns out painters, carpet cleaners and movers are "essential workers," so we were able to proceed with getting into the new house a little earlier than planned due to canceling our vacation. So...gutters and strikes. Overall, though, I'm so glad to be in the new house in time for this baby to arrive. During our last two weeks in the old house, the universe reinforced our need to get the fuck out of there by way of the yearly ant invasion that happens in the spring, as well as the unwelcome visit of a mouse in the living room late one night. Hint taken. So we got the fuck out, and I couldn't be happier about that.
However, COVID-19 has still made life a little more cumbersome. My work closed down, forcing me to work from home, which is completely not conducive to the type of job I have; I'm a social worker and used to seeing my clients face to face in a vocational skills program setting. My son's daycare closed down as well, so in addition to navigating a whole new way of doing my job, I now had childcare responsibilities to juggle along with that. My husband also started working exclusively from home, which sounds like an ideal situation when you have a toddler to take care of all day, and we did have some effective tag-teaming going on when necessary, but overall I took on most of the kid care, thus resulting in getting a lot less work done and eventually getting written up for not meeting my productivity standard. That pissed me off for a minute, but what was even more upsetting to me was the dejection in my kid's face at times when he wanted me to play with him and I had to tell him that I couldn't because I had work to do. So, I decided to go on maternity leave a few days earlier than planned, because right now spending time with my son before he has to share mommy and daddy with a sibling is more important to me than trying to keep up with a bullshit productivity standard for work.
Speaking of the new baby, tonight is the last night my kid will go to bed here at home an only child. He will stay overnight with his grandma tomorrow night since I have to be at the hospital first thing Monday morning for my c-section, and then he will be a big brother with a new sibling and a new normal. Obviously I'm anxious about how he will do with the new baby and how he will feel about having to share his mom and dad with someone else. He is my rainbow baby, my whole world (for better or for worse) and I know I have carved him out to be the center of everything just about every day since he was born. I mean, don't get me wrong, when he's being rude or obstinate I will demand he straighten up or face the consequences; he's not utterly spoiled to the point of obnoxious. But he is my firstborn and I willingly admit I am probably more accommodating to him than I ought to be sometimes. So I worry that a sibling will completely mess up his world for awhile amidst all the other new changes that have happened all at once (new house, daycare closing, pandemic life, etc). I know, I know, we will all be ok and things will sort themselves out. In the meantime, worrying about my kid is actually keeping my mind off the anxiety about *my* new normal and how *I'm* going to handle the big changes coming. Ready or not, here comes baby! I'm just crossing my fingers that the second time around, the sleep deprivation isn't quite so shocking and profound.
*******************
UPDATE: since I'm a procrastinator and didn't finish the above post in a timely fashion, I have some happy news to share. Turns out painters, carpet cleaners and movers are "essential workers," so we were able to proceed with getting into the new house a little earlier than planned due to canceling our vacation. So...gutters and strikes. Overall, though, I'm so glad to be in the new house in time for this baby to arrive. During our last two weeks in the old house, the universe reinforced our need to get the fuck out of there by way of the yearly ant invasion that happens in the spring, as well as the unwelcome visit of a mouse in the living room late one night. Hint taken. So we got the fuck out, and I couldn't be happier about that.
However, COVID-19 has still made life a little more cumbersome. My work closed down, forcing me to work from home, which is completely not conducive to the type of job I have; I'm a social worker and used to seeing my clients face to face in a vocational skills program setting. My son's daycare closed down as well, so in addition to navigating a whole new way of doing my job, I now had childcare responsibilities to juggle along with that. My husband also started working exclusively from home, which sounds like an ideal situation when you have a toddler to take care of all day, and we did have some effective tag-teaming going on when necessary, but overall I took on most of the kid care, thus resulting in getting a lot less work done and eventually getting written up for not meeting my productivity standard. That pissed me off for a minute, but what was even more upsetting to me was the dejection in my kid's face at times when he wanted me to play with him and I had to tell him that I couldn't because I had work to do. So, I decided to go on maternity leave a few days earlier than planned, because right now spending time with my son before he has to share mommy and daddy with a sibling is more important to me than trying to keep up with a bullshit productivity standard for work.
Speaking of the new baby, tonight is the last night my kid will go to bed here at home an only child. He will stay overnight with his grandma tomorrow night since I have to be at the hospital first thing Monday morning for my c-section, and then he will be a big brother with a new sibling and a new normal. Obviously I'm anxious about how he will do with the new baby and how he will feel about having to share his mom and dad with someone else. He is my rainbow baby, my whole world (for better or for worse) and I know I have carved him out to be the center of everything just about every day since he was born. I mean, don't get me wrong, when he's being rude or obstinate I will demand he straighten up or face the consequences; he's not utterly spoiled to the point of obnoxious. But he is my firstborn and I willingly admit I am probably more accommodating to him than I ought to be sometimes. So I worry that a sibling will completely mess up his world for awhile amidst all the other new changes that have happened all at once (new house, daycare closing, pandemic life, etc). I know, I know, we will all be ok and things will sort themselves out. In the meantime, worrying about my kid is actually keeping my mind off the anxiety about *my* new normal and how *I'm* going to handle the big changes coming. Ready or not, here comes baby! I'm just crossing my fingers that the second time around, the sleep deprivation isn't quite so shocking and profound.
