Day two of work was pretty much the same as day one, only today I was able to remember the password to my computer. Gold star! Still, it’s insane how disconnected I feel to everything, like I know a secret no one else does and because of that being here is almost like an out of body experience, I’m here but I’m not here. I guess it would be easier to simply say that my heart is not in it.
I was ready to go super early this morning, and Oliver also woke up early, so I pretty much bee-lined it upstairs to whip him out of the crib. I thoroughly enjoyed getting him changed, brushing his teeth, and getting the last few things together with him. When I had to leave for work though Bo wasn’t ready to take him yet, so I had to put Oliver back in his crib. He was fine, checking out his hippo and watching me walk down the stairs, but then I said “bye bye” and waved to him, and watched his face change to pure pain. His eyes darkened, his lip quivered, then he cried. Lord how he cried, and how it broke my heart into a thousand tiny pieces. I think they’re still resting there on the stairs. That was just so hard, to see him get so upset, and yes, I know that 2 minutes later he would have been just fine, swung up into his Daddy’s arms and heading downstairs for his milk, but still, it was just so hard for me.
And that set me up for the rest of my day. I felt horrible all day at work, realizing that seeing Oliver in the morning before leaving for work makes it’s so much harder for me to get through the days. I spent hours today thinking about what he was doing at daycare, worrying that he wasn’t being taken care of properly, worrying about what food he was getting for lunch, about how often his diaper was getting changed. Would she sing songs to him, explain things to him like I do. Would she play games that teach him animal names and sounds? I know the answers to these questions are probably no, and that just makes it even harder to sit here at work, when I would rather be at home with him. Soon. I keep telling myself soon. One year from now I’ll be gearing up for a second maternity leave, our debt will be consolidated onto the mortgage, and I’ll officially become a stay at home mom. 1 more year, it’s really not that long. Right?
After work I zoomed back home to pick up my boy, with a warning from daycare that he’s been crankier then normal, and hasn’t napped. Oh, and apparently he doesn’t like Lay’s potato chips (check yes beside the box allowing me to worry about the “healthy” food he’s supposed to be getting). What I didn’t mention yet, is that I am now also sick. Quite sick actually with a horrendous cold. Thank’s Oliver. My head feels three sizes too big because of the sinus congestion (and accompanying headache), and my throat is just killing me. Anyway, once we were home Oliver didn’t really feel like playing, or reading any stories, so I filled a bottle up with milk and took him upstairs, changing him into some comfy pants, then laying him down in his bouncer. Yeah, he was cranky. He didn’t want to sit, he didn’t want to play, he didn’t want to be held, he didn’t want to be in his bouncer. He just didn’t want anything, and this is very odd for Oliver, so I knew it was just because he was still sick. I finally got him to relax back in the bouncer and eat his bottle, all of it. Now he was back to my normal sweet boy; but he did want to cuddle. I grabbed his blanket and covered him up, then grabbed my blanket and covered me up, laying my head on the end of his bouncer on the couch. He plucked his soother out of his mouth, sticking it in mine (probably how I ended up sick, lol, but he likes to share). The last thing I remember was his taking it back for himself, then we were both asleep.
Bo got home around 7, waking me up accidentally, but I am a very light sleeper. Wilf wanted him to go up and see his “cabin” to be, so because Oliver and I were sleeping, he headed back out to get it over with. Oliver woke up about 7:20 and I gave him a quick bath, he didn’t really want to be in there today. My poor boy, so out of character. After that I put him in his pj’s, then we went downstairs to make his dinner (Bo’s picking dinner up for us on his way home because I’m not feeling well. Best. Husband. Ever.). Because I didn’t really have any meat easy to cook up, Oliver was getting breakfast for dinner, some cream of wheat, which he usually loves. Not today. Oh no, NOT today. He refused to eat any off it. So, I tried some puffs, and those were ok. This is where I get the worst mom ever award, or at least worst mom of the night. Oliver had a delicious, healthy, well balanced dinner of puffs, honey nut Cheerios, gold fish crackers, and a breakfast cereal bar (so I guess he did still have breakfast for dinner). At least he ate something though.
Perfect timing, Bo walked in the door with pizza just as Oliver was clearing off his tray for me (having finished all he wanted), and spraying cheerios all over the office floor (I dragged the high chair into the office while he ate so I could check email). I should have stopped him, because I really didn’t want a cheerio carpet in there, but if was the first time I’d seen a genuine smile on his face all night, so I just let him enjoy.
Exhausted and still feeling sick we all headed upstairs. Oliver had his last bottle of the night, Bo and I ate our pizza, and I was a little disappointed in that new game show “Downfall”. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I was left underwhelmed. Bo put Oliver to bed as I crawled into our bed, so ready for a good nights sleep. I haven’t prepped anything for tomorrow except Oliver’s clothes, so it’s going to be a bit of a mad dash in the morning. Oh well, I’ll worry about it tomorrow.
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