Let me set the scene for you: Michael and I both hunched over Henry as he is laying on his changing table. He sneezes and the booger flies out of his nose and then sucks back in...quick like a rabbit. Son of a biscuit. We both hover near waiting for the next sneeze. Will one of us be quick enough to grab it and fish it out of his tiny nostril. Welcome to parenthood. It is probably unnatural how rewarding I find using the saline nasal drops and bulb suction to clean out Henry's snarffly nose. Getting out a huge booger just feels so great...its like something measurable I did for Henry that made him feel better. That feels good. What can I say, I'm strange.
As I was laying in bed last night and my brain wouldn't shut off, I got to thinking about how I want Henry to grow up. The kind of parent I want to be. My mother-in-law once mentioned how she would take Michael and his brother and sister to the grocery store. She would turn it into a game and ask them to grab 'two of the yellow cans, one of the blue cans'...you get the idea. I have no idea why, but ever since this image has been burned into my brain. I just picture this perfectly coiffed mother breezing down the market aisles, conversing with her perfectly behaved and helpful children in a lovely sing-song, pre-school teacher voice. Now that is a great mom. Will I be that mom? Or will I be the other mom...the one frantically searching the shelves to grab what she needs as quickly as possible. Before the rising screams of her baby become too much for other shoppers to handle. Her greasy pony tail, stained sweat pants and wild-eyed look certainly make you question how good of a mother she is....Yep. The frustrating thing is, that frantic, slowly melting down mom is probably wonderful...she just doesn't have it all quite pulled together yet. I think we are still somewhere in the middle.
We haven't mastered that easy, breezy, beautiful...Cover Girl mom look yet. We have all seen those moms and wondered how they had time to blow dry, curl and style their butt length locks. And put on make-up! What!? I'm two days from just shaving my head and calling it good. One less thing right?