So I’m driving towards a stoplight, and refuse to speed up to get through the green before it changes, because I have a baby in the backseat and I turned into a grandma driver the moment she was born.
This is a problem.
Now I sit at a stoplight, wondering why on earth it is necessary for other people to get through the intersection and what possibly makes them anymore important than I. Don’t they see that I have a BABY?! Don’t they realize that if the car is stopped for more than 23.5 seconds that my baby will start crying uncontrollably, and the longer she cries the harder it will be for her to stop? Every.Second.Counts.
No, Libby. Nobody realizes that, and even if they did, nobody cares, because the world does not revolve around you and your baby. I know, I know. But, still.
Every moment of the day is like this, especially those moments spent outside the 4 walls of my home. It’s very intense.
I almost lost it on the girl working in the McDonalds drive-thru tonight. It all began when I decided it was necessary to get 2 chocolate chip cookies on my way home, accompanied by a medium tea with milk. Easy enough, right? And there’s nothing faster to make and hand out a little window than cookies and tea, right? No, wrong. Apparently, asking (before ordering) “Do you have chocolate chip cookies still at this time of night”, does not give the opportunity to say “no, we are out for the night or you can wait 10 minutes for new ones”. Apparently.
I was at my Mom’s house visiting. I timed it perfectly. If I stay until 7, nurse the baby, and get into the car immediately, she’ll fall asleep on the way home, without crying, and I’ll put her right to bed when we get home. PERFECT plan. It even involved staying a solid hour later than I wanted to- if I am perfectly honest with myself. A lot of thought goes into when I do what, and how I do it, and all the potential hiccups (not literal hiccups).
So after paying at the first window (therefore solidifying my purchase no matter the wait time), I get the second window only to find out that they are out of cookies. REALLY? “But if you want to wait only 2 minutes we’ll make some new ones”, said the cashier. Ugh. So I pull up to the wait spot, and after a solid 35 seconds the baby starts to wail. After 5 minutes, the girls gossiping behind the counter wonder why I’ve marched in there, baby carrier in hand, bouncing and shushing.
“Is there something you need?”
Yes. Yes there is something I need. I need you to:
a) Tell me there are no cookies when I ask you before ordering, or at least before paying
b) Give me a realistic wait time frame so that I can immediately leave and not have the baby lose it
C) Don’t look at me like a crazed cookie-hungry customer who can’t wait 2 minutes in the car with her baby
“No, just thought I’d come in to get the cookies and tea to save you a trip and keep the baby happy” J
People. Some people.
I feel like I’ve turned into a “Don’t you see I have a baby here” lunatic. I actually have, and I’m sorry.
2 days ago I was in the hospital, it was pretty quiet and I was super grateful that my baby was fast asleep while I waited for over an hour to see the doctor. As I waited by the door for my husband to pick me up, some crazy nurse (crazy because her hair was frizzy and she was grumpy), kept yelling commands to the other nurses. But she waited until she was right beside us. REALLY? DON’T YOU SEE MY SLEEPING BABY? DON’T YOU REALIZE WHAT IT’LL MEAN FOR THE NEXT 2 HOURS FOR ME IF YOU WAKER HER UP?! SHUT UP!
I’m just being honest. I’m nice, really. 90% of the time you’d have no idea I am having these crazed thoughts, but I can’t lie, my inner dialogue is generally not so friendly.
One last thing.
Why do people try to talk to me like I am a regular person with a regular focused brain when my baby is wailing?
Oh, probably because they don’t have a baby. I realize that. I am not stupid. Before motherhood I didn’t think twice about the effects of having a baby had on a woman’s brain. How non-empathetic of me. I know. But now I want everyone to understand. My brain doesn’t work properly when my baby is crying. Or when my baby is about to cry. Or when my baby has just finished crying. Or if I think she might cry. Or if I’m thinking of when the last time I fed her was. Or which boob I used. Just sayin’. Just don’t be offended when I’m spaced out, or looking like I am ignoring you, or am red in the face, or smile and nod when you just told me the saddest news of your life. I CAN’T THINK.
So the next time you ask to hold my baby, try to have a conversation with me, allow me to cross the road first, open or not open the door for me, expect me to hear everything you say, wonder if I was ignoring you, wonder why I’m huffing and puffing so hard waiting for a red light, or see me rolling my eyes at a random loud talking well-wisher, just remember that I may have just spent the last 2 hours feeding, rocking, shushing, playing and scheming to get my baby to sleep in perfect time… so that when I get home I can fold the load of laundry that’s been sitting there for 3 days, or shower, or do the dishes, or make an important phone call, or do one of a million other things that I have on my list of “to-dos while baby is sleeping” list.
Now that’s a run on sentence.
To my friends who are Moms, or just Moms in general: I can’t believe how naïve and un-thoughtful when I was “pre-baby”. Sorry to you.
To my other un-mothered friends: Sorry for being crazy and half hating you for not getting why I’m all dazed and confused these days.
And to the rest of you: Stop waking up my baby.