All Aboard! The SS Worry Wart

Oh, hi.

It has been a while.

What can I say, life gets crazy.

I spend a lot of time at work, or on a bus on my way to work, or mothering a toddler whose energy level rivals the road runner (meep-meep), or trying to be a good wife, or taking care of the house, or taking care of the cat (is it horrible that we are kind of hoping she is nearing the end of those nine lives? Another mouth to feed amiright?)

But lately, I spend a lot of time worrying.

About what you ask? Oh,  just you know .. all of the things.

I have realized that becoming a mother is a quick and dirty way of discovering how bat-shit crazy you truly are. And just when you think you might have a handle on it, you do a quick google search on something as innocuous as "first year milestones" and you find yourself in a sea of articles that make your head spin and your stomach twist.

Why is he such a finicky eater? One day he loves my newest concoction of ways to hide green veggies and then next he is doing his best karate kid "wax on, wax off" impression during dinner, swiping his entire meal onto the floor. I mean, obviously something is wrong. I must be doing something wrong. Why won't this kid eat.

My inner monologue is working so much overtime that she asked me for a holiday bonus last month!

I have also realized that becoming a mother is a very quick and dirty way of losing your own identity. Even if for a short while, the person you were 2 seconds before that baby crashed your party of two is now on sabbatical.

Will I ever feel like  my "old" self again? I can barely stay awake past 10pm on a weekend yet I sometimes find myself longing for fancy, boozy dinners out with my husband or wild nights out with friends at a bar where the bathroom mirrors are meant to make you look hotter with every dirty martini (extra olives, always) that you drink.

And then comes the guilt that you feel for feeling that way! And the swift realization as the tiny, cherub, crumb-coated hand of your toddler reaches up to honk your nose - the very nose that you have been asking him to identify all week - that this is actually who you are now, and that is more than okay, it is incredible.

I am actually fine with the sabbatical after all, it is the constant worrying I can do without.

But, when I am feeling particularly spirally, something that brings me back to the surface is that even the most successful "moms with it all"  that I know sometimes feel the same way. No matter if you are a stay-at-home mom, or work a full day or part time ... we are all passengers on the SS Worry Wart. Every single one of us.

I think that it should be part of the requirement when you go to your first appointment of your third trimester.

Okay so, everything looks good, strong heart beat, here are some tricks to deal with heartburn ... and oh yea, from pretty much now until forever you are going to worry about ... all of the things.

But, I am embracing it and every day, week, month I feel a little bit more sure of this whole motherhood thing. Maybe by the time Milo is 18 I will stop worrying?

Doubt it.

Road Runner probably left his worried mom somewhere.

Milo eating a pbj that he will hate tomorrow