A Harried Woman's Hard Lessons

As most of you know, David started his new job this week, which means that I was back to tackling mothering and household duties solo.  The transition wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.  For the first two days if I left Eli's side for even a second he would have a conniption and start crying and crawling to me. (which he's still doing, just not quite as much).  By the third day, however, he started roaming off on his own for little bits of time.  He still strongly prefers for me to be holding him or sitting by him, but I think in time he'll start feeling more confident by himself.  At times it's a little frustrating to hear him fuss for me to hold him, but mostly I enjoy it.  I know that in too short a time he won't want me to hold him and smother him in kisses, and I'll miss it.  One great thing is that he's gotten back into taking two naps again, so now instead of having to go to bed at 6:00, we have more time in the evenings to spend as a family. I've l-o-v-e-d having Eli all to myself.  I love making him laugh, mimicking each other, reading books together, walking outside on beautiful weather days, and just sitting next to him watching him play and marveling at how smart he is.

Wednesday nights are a little bit hectic for us, because David works with the youth at church.  I had planned to have dinner just about ready when he came home from work this past Wednesday, so he wouldn't be rushed getting out the door.  That all changed, however, after I cooked the chicken and realized it still had bones in it and was covered in disgusting, slimy skin.  We always buy boneless, skinless chicken, but I guess we weren't paying attention when we bought it this time.  I tried to talk myself into cutting it, but every time I touched it I about gagged.  I know what you're all thinking: "What a WUSS!"  You're exactly right.  I felt terrible and so guilty for making David cut up chicken after a full day at work, and yes, it was a mad dash to get him out the door on time.  When I admitted to David that I wouldn't be able to cut the chicken he replied, "I thought you could do anything after having a baby."  Apparently not.  : /

The fun didn't stop there that night, though.  After I put Eli in his jammies, I wanted to take a picture of him because he looked so darn cute.  : )  I left him in his room for a minute while I grabbed the camera, and when I came back I noticed that I didn't see his pacifier anywhere.  Eli is a boy who almost NEVER goes five feet without his beloved paci.  I clearly remembered him having it when I dressed him, and then, two minutes later, it was gone.  Since I was about to put him to bed, I knew it was crucial that I found that stinkin' pacifier.  I asked Eli, "Where's your paci?" since in previous occasions he's pulled it out of nowhere, but he looked at me with a blank stare.  I quickly started scouring the room as he sat patiently on the floor, surely wondering how he got such a madwoman for a mom.  I bent down on my hands and knees to look in every cranny of the floor.  I took apart the changing table, moved the crib, searched through the books, looked through the diaper bag, opened every drawer and shook all the clothes, went through the trash, ransacked the closet, and so forth.  No pacifier was to be found.

Now this would not be such a crisis if I could just give Eli one of the other pacifiers he owns.  Except that he won't take any others.  Since the day he was born he has used this one, cursed paci and none else.  It was getting late and I knew I had to get Eli to bed.  I kept praying for inspiration, and started crying that my idiotic self could lose this pacifier in my own house.  Sure enough, when I put Eli down for bed and gave him an alternate paci he threw it across the room.

When David got home, Eli was still awake in his bed.  Even though I was almost positive his paci never left his room, I thoroughly searched every room of the house.  Then the only logical explanation to me was that it was on him.  I thought somehow it was stuck in his diaper or in his pajamas.  We went in and felt all over him (making him very mad, of course), but my hopes were dashed.  David told me to take the baby and he'd look in the room.  About five minutes later David came back . . . WITH THE PACIFIER!  Can you BELIEVE that?!  He said it was in the dirty clothes hamper.  (There was only one thing in the hamper, and I thought I had checked there twice already.)  Finally we were all at peace and Eli was able to sleep soundly.

A few lessons can be learned from these two stressful situations.  In the chicken story, I blamed David for buying the wrong kind, even though I was there with him when he bought it.  If I had been paying closer attention, maybe I could have caught the error.  Also, I usually cook and cut up the chicken the day before making a chicken dish, so I don't have to do as much work in one afternoon.  This time I waited until the day of to prep and cook.  If I had been better prepared and thought ahead, David could have helped cut it in his free evening, instead of right after he arrived home and had to leave again.

The Lost Pacifier Fiasco taught me that sometimes we go to a lot of trouble and cause unneeded stress for ourselves by making a big hoopla when we can keep things simple.  If I hadn't left to go get the camera to take pictures at bedtime, I would have better remembered when and where I lost the pacifier. (Not that that was "making a big hoopla," I'm just comparing it to such.)  The other lesson I learned was that sometimes we're in such a rush that we miss the important things that are right in front of us.  I searched so frantically for that paci that I'm sure I did go through that hamper and looked right over it.  Sometimes we just need to slow down and let the Lord lead us to where we should go and what we should do.

The pictures of Eli in his "too cute" jammies.  Was it worth the stress?  Hmm . . .

He laid down on the floor in a fit because he couldn't have the camera.  : )