The Queen's Rambles

It’s a Monday! It could have been worse. Mike left town yesterday afternoon and won’t be back for a few days. I hate single parenting. It’s not as bad now, with a four year old, but I still hate it.

Erik has a bit of a cough and runny nose, so I couldn’t take him to the gym. They will kick your ass out faster than you can say “gesundheit” if they even suspect your kid is sick. And they won’t do it nicely. They’ll thrust papers in your face and make a big stink about it. I don’t need that. Of course, this is all for the good of the kids and I don’t blame them. Erik has only been kicked out once, and he wasn’t even sick. They said he had pink eye, but he had a bruised eye because some other kid poked him in the eye AT THE GYM the day before. But I’ve seen other kids kicked out and I don’t want to be that mom.

I haven’t seen anyone kicked out of preschool, so I sent him with the sniffles. Bad mommy! He went at 12 and I only heard him cough a couple of times prior, so I think he was well enough to attend.

Anyway! Boring! All that to say I didn’t get to take full advantage of all my child care opportunities. If he’s feeling well tomorrow he’s going over to the babysitters for a play date for a few hours. Whoo-hoo! It makes SUCH a difference in both our attitudes if we are able to spend a little time apart.

Did I mention that I finally got him a pillow pet? Who’s the best mama ever? And possibly the most guilt riddled mama ever? I can’t help myself. I hated having a sibling and I feel a tremendous amount of guilt for putting him in the same situation. If a pillow pet makes him happy, he can damn well have a pillow pet. And believe me, it makes him happy. See that smiling face? That’s about how happy it is every time he plays with Fluffy.

Also, I swear I’m not feeding him coke. Why would I feed a very active, non-stop talker an upper? Powdered sugar donuts are bad enough. If I wanted to give him drugs I’d go straight for the barbiturates. I can’t remember what they are, but they’re downers, right? Maybe alcohol? Valium? Opium? It’s been a long time since fourth grade drug education.

I’m a little worried for Fluffy. Erik thinks his hair is too long and wants to give him a hair cut. The scissors are put away, but it is just a matter of time before he finds them and destroys his pillow pet. There will be much gnashing of teeth and wailing.

I’m having a bit of a conundrum and quite possibly need extensive therapy to get to the root of my mental health hang-ups. My friend wants to throw me a baby shower. Very sweet, yes? I threw her a baby shower and it was ok. Personally, I am not into baby showers. It mainly comes from feeling really guilty about asking people for gifts and feeling unworthy of their money–like they are all hating me for forcing them to come to a shower and buy me a present. I had a lot of anxiety about my bridal showers and Erik’s baby shower for the same reason. Also, most of my friends are all moms and most of them have had second or third children while I’ve known them. In my peer group we rarely give baby gifts because we’d all be flat broke in about three months. We’re a bunch of breeders and no one can be expected to keep up with all of that. I don’t have any family here or long time gal pals. I think I would puke if I had to submit a list of people to come and bring me gifts.

So I’m trying to tell her no without hurting her feelings. A) Because it is really sweet of her to want to throw a shower. B) I don’t want her to think I didn’t approve of her baby shower.

If I have a boy I might have to change my mind and invite every person I’ve ever met or even thought about meeting to the shower. I have officially given away all baby clothes up through size 3T. I have a few gender neutral leftovers, but not enough to fill a whole wardrobe. I’m trying to tell myself it’s ok. Elsa will be an Elsa, not an Olaf. Not that we would ever name an American child Olaf. No offense to the Swedes. Even if she is a he, saving Erik’s clothes wouldn’t have done any good. I don’t think a baby needs fleece footie pajamas and warm little sweaters in middle of July in Washington, D. C.

Actually, I guess I don’t have much for a girl past the newborn stage either. I have a lot of people telling me they have baby clothes for me, but I haven’t seen it yet. I know I will. I just won’t know what it is and how usable it will be until I have it in my hands. I’m not getting anxious about it or anything. So far my nesting has been more of the “get this crap OUT OF HERE” variety.

I guess I better get to sleep so I can be ready for the day tomorrow. Maybe Erik will sleep in. That would be too much to ask, wouldn’t it?