I am now pregnant with my second child. It seems each day I am failing more and more at my job. Yesterday I fed my 1 year old breakfast twice and forgot lunch all together. It wasn’t until I found him searching through his diaper bag with a granola bar in his hand I realized, Dang I forgot to eat! Now granted he is eating enough, maybe more eggs than balanced meals. He is also managing to stay very clean as I continue to forget what day it is. Generally baths are as needed or every 2-3 days. I mean its not like he goes anywhere where he’s going to get dirty. Other than some banana behind his right ear he doesn’t need a bath everyday, However, that’s exactly what he’s been getting because today is Wednesday, not Monday.
Does pregnancy make you a bad mother?
Its funny how much pregnancy has tried my sanity. I mean why does the dog keep barking! Why does he keep taking the food the baby offers him! Why does the baby only offer food that actually takes time and money to cook? How does the baby know when I forgot to put the gate back up on the stairs? At least now he waits and giggles until I notice he’s about to kill himself to book it up the stairs. How many kisses could one baby need? And why is it I can’t pee in peace? Why is it that the little bit of TV have commercials that make me cry? Or worry that I’m not watching out who my child’s friends are? Oh, and that my child has no friends yet other than his two cousins and my neighbors granddaughter. What if they are a bad influence? Are they all going to break out and do drugs, or worse become loners in a glee club?
I, now worry that I’m not doing enough to raise my son. I mean organic food, babywearing, breastfeeding, no TV, reading books and spending time letting him become himself can’t be enough. What if we don’t have enough money? What if our house is too small? What if our house is too big? Mean while I forget to mop the floor and the dog is cleaning up yet another trail of carrots. It seems that having another child is making me question everything I do, but helping me to do nothing.
Without these hormones I can calmly and boldly hold my head high as my son learns to walk at 10 months and says his first word at 9. Now I worry that some how I have pushed him and he’ll spend the rest of his life being an over achiever. What if he stops talking? What if he decides he like dance better than football? What if he decides to play football? Which follows how can he do either if he’s not potty trained?
At the end of the day I lay down and look at my angel as he falls asleep and Thank God he’s mine. I think we’re doing alright. All those other things can wait until he’s older. In the mean time I have to pee yet again…and I forgot to wash the clothes.