I feel like I put in a good day of momming yesterday. [blows on knuckles] I made french toast, had everyone dressed (rather cutely!) and out the door by 9:00, put the finishing signatures on the girls' 529s at the bank and made it to the first day of dance class with only snapping at the kids once. When I mentioned Netflix to some moms in the dance school lobby, I got one-upped by peeps who (claim they) don't own TVs, yet I managed to extract confessions that they watch the Bachelor on Hulu. Busted! We laughed, we might be friends. It felt good. As much as people like to pretend every beam of light in their lives is from the natural sun, I know we all have vices. We're human. Get over it.
My good day of momming continued. At dinner, I semi-invented a casserole and people in this house actually ate it. I should have taken a picture. After that, I surprised my family with fresh oatmeal raisin cookies. I even bought a special basket for the spare clean sheets (which I normally leave balled up in the basement for two-week stretches). Not yesterday! I folded those beasts and then made a special pennant banner that said "clean sheets" and tied it with twine. TWINE, PEOPLE. And I wasn't even Pinteresting. I'm just doing my best to sail around this house like some kinda goddamn twee cartoon mom who didn't spend the summer staring at Nick Jr. eating take-out.
Why did I have such a productive mom day? Because I'm on the "grateful" setting of auto-pilot. It reminds me of when I used to come home after a night of drinking in college and clean my apartment. You may as well work when you're numb because what else is numbness good for? Right? I find that slight daze of my mood takes the edge off my arms hurting as I organize giant tubs of Legos mixed with Barbie heads and crayons.
I know I said I'd stay off Dr. Google, but after talking to real doctors and taking half a peek at heart defect message boards, I'm spooked. I won't go into any medical minutiae with you, but basically there's a higher-than-comfortable chance this baby I'm about to have will be loaded with problems - the same problems her twin had with the added complication of two heart defects.
Why then am I not curled in a ball? Why am I going to parent parties, baking pies, curling my hair, Getting Out There? Because it just ain't that bad. I feel like the worst thing that can happen has already happened. I already lost a child. I don't care if this baby comes out with toenails on her earlobes, she'll be here and she'll be loved. The weather is gorgeous! I have new boots! I just saw a squirrel sneak off with an abandoned strawberry on my porch!
What if I lived in THE SYRIA right now? What if I never met the love of my life or had the beautiful children I've got? Show me someone with no problems. I can think of about 1,000 ways life could be much worse than a heart with wonky bits. So my baby has a problem with her little ticker? We're going to address that one single day at a time. One. Moment. At. A. Time.
This moment? I'm dipping an oatmeal cookie into a hot cup of delicious decaf. In the words of Ice Cube, today was a good day.
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