Well….it’s been a busy week here at the land of…um…where I work. I’ve harly had a moment to stop and write. Don’t ask me why I only feel the urge to write when I should be doing other things at work and not when I’m laying on the couch watching Oprah. I don’t know.
Tomorrow I enter week #7 of pregnancy. I’m already having nightmares (literally) about what a bad parent I’m afraid of being. I dreamed I dressed my baby boy in girl’s clothing for a picture because I wanted a picture of the baby in my mom’s little cotton dress so badly. I dreamed I kept forgetting to feed the baby. And, I dreamed that I kept setting the baby down and then forgetting where I put it. I also had a dream that it was born 3 months early and the hospital wouldn’t let me stay there. They sent me home with it as soon as it was born even though I wasn’t at all ready for it.
My anecdote for this is to read about whatever it is that scared me in the dream the night before. So, unfortunately, when it comes to misplacing the baby, I’m on my own since I can’t find anything about it in any of my books.
I’ve become keenly aware of other peoples parenting and parenting problems. Not bad problems like “call protective services.” I’m just talking about the routine stuff that comes with having any kid. Like yesterday, when I was making a pit-stop at K-Mart. The other woman in the bathroom had a potty-training toddler in the stall with her and she was trying to coax him into going. When he finally did, she blurted out “Oh my God, what did you eat that was blue?!?!”
While I know very solidly on some level that Owen and I will do fine, there’s a part of me that can’t help but worry. I guess maybe that’s why I know we’ll be good.