The girl has an ear infection. Fever. Screaming. Puking. Sleeping? Not so much. Well, these past nights have been better, but early on it was rough going. And I was sick, too. It’s really cruel, the way things sometimes shake out.
One day in the thick of full-flu-fuckitude, she eventually settled for her nap…after an hour of coaxing, Motrin-ing, puking and whining. Hurting everywhere, I dragged my un-tooth-brushed, sorry ass to the computer to waste some time on the mommy website I am a member of. Bad idea.
There was a thread asking for children’s book recommendations. Oh. I’m supposed to have preferences for those board pages that she chews on? Strike one, bad mommy. We have a few of the classics…Where the Wild Things Are, Frederick, but there is no library of rhymes and colorful illustrations in this joint. And so many moms had these lists of books, ones I had never heard of. No strike two or three for this mommy. I forfeit. Let me go sit quietly in the corner of the dugout, please.
Ah. Summer sports. I remember that…leisure.
Being a mom can be like that, figuratively speaking. A day at the park. A lazy afternoon at the pool. Who are these moms who play and frolic happily with their babies in the shallows? Where do they find the time? The energy?
And here I am, clinging to the side, breathless and waterlogged.
Could someone throw me some floaties?