Thursday, November 8, 2012

A post for the end of the day


Dad rocking it in physical therapy today.
Evelyn is teething and it's making her tired and weepy and whiny.  I give into her requests for television much too often these days.  She's still handling the seasonal head congestion much more pleasantly than most people, though.  She sleeps late and staggers around.  Throw some meals and a nap time in there and you've got a day.  It ends with a bath and her thinking that if she lays down in a tub, even after I've drained all the water, that I'll never think to pick her up and carry her off to pajamas and a waiting dad.

Cody still puts Evelyn to sleep in this strange and liberated post-breastfeeding world.  I've rocked her to sleep twice in the past few months, and it was heaven.  I've also gotten up with her a few times during the night.  Really, that wasn't so bad either.

Today I barely managed to get her fed and dressed and in the car in time to take Dad to his first physical therapy appointment.  But I did, and we picked him up and went to the physical therapy appointment.  She was sad that she couldn't play in Mom and Dad's back yard, though.  She also didn't want to be at the physical therapist's.  She quietly sobbed when I tried to put her down, and then cried some more when I picked her back up.  I couldn't walk her around the parking lot because I needed to listen to the physical therapist's instructions,  ask the questions Mom wrote on a Post-It note, and write down his answers.  Evelyn destroyed a breakfast bar and a package of Goldfish during the visit. 

Mom was at her massage therapy appointment.  Levi, Sara, and Chad were at work.  Laine and Robert were in another state.  Cody had already taken most of Tuesday off to watch Evelyn so that Mom didn't have to babysit her in a waiting room while Dad had shoulder surgery (I could have taken the day off, but I only work 3 days a week and people appreciate it when I actually do what I'm supposed to do). 

It was probably the first time since 2010 that I've actually been in a position to help anyone beyond praying for them and sending twenty bucks.  I know that sounds like a joke, but I'm completely serious.  From the moment I got pregnant, I haven't done anything more helpful than host a party or mail a gift.  I haven't had the time, energy, or dexterity.  If I brought you food, it's because Cody made it.  If you needed help moving, I sent Cody to box up your stuff.  If you needed a ride, I begged off because I have a time-consuming baby who nurses for an hour a feeding, and who gets weird about sleep.

Except I have a growing toddler who travels fairly well.  She likes new things and going places.  And even though I had to turn down a social outing with friends this weekend because I'd have to wake her up early, I can do stuff without killing myself with effort.  Dad didn't care that I was doing that stuff slowly because I had a small person with me, who I had to buckle in before I buckle in him.  For someone who's almost never sick or hurt, he was super gracious.  And Mom, who has a tremendous amount on her plate, didn't really seem to mind that Evelyn was close to tantrums this afternoon and that her house is covered with cracker crumbs.  Mo was distressed that Evelyn was distressed to be around him, but you can't have it all.

I know this is all fairly obvious stuff.  "Duh, Jennifer.  Your parents raised you and now they help raise your daughter. Whatever."  But every day, I have to remind myself that most people are not as impatient as I am.  Evelyn has taken some of the edge off, but I still catch myself getting a little stressed that I can't keep up the same pace I had before she came along.  And for some reason, I assume most people are expecting me to when the majority of them don't.  And really, I can't tell if I'm growing as a person and learning to roll with things better, or if life is just easier without a tiny helpless baby who was slightly insane for a solid year.

What I do know is that it's 9:30 at night and I feel like it's nearly 2 AM.  Mom and Dad are happy I could take Dad to his physical therapy appointment.  I'm happy that I was able to do something helpful for people who help me out all the stinking time, and that Dad appears to be recovering beautifully.  Evelyn is ...... really hardcore unconscious.  She only slept an hour today, and that was in the car (car sleep doesn't seem to count as much with babies.  Has anyone else noticed this?).  But when she was awake, she was very happy to see her grandparents and their animals.

This is just a post about my day.  I'll go back to work full-time in a month or two, so I really liked this day a lot.  Evelyn was adorable and Dad was on drugs.  Mom made soup.  I drank 6 cups of coffee and dressed like a lumberjack.  When I came home, Cody said I looked beautiful.  Evelyn laughed maniacally every time I told her "stop duckfacing."  That girl duckfaces a lot.  I have a dad so healthy that this is the first surgery he's ever had (dental stuff notwithstanding).  I have a mom who's had so many surgeries that she knows exactly when to yell at Dad for trying to do too much (all the time).  I have a husband who had dinner waiting when I came home, who rocks babies, and is attracted to sloppily dressed women.  I have a brother who can literally do the heavy lifting around the house, and a sister and brother-in-law who live close enough to our parents to keep Laine and me from worrying.

It's a good life with a good family and I'm so happy I brought Evelyn to our party.  Duckface or no, she's the very best part of my day every single day.  But today was definitely one of the better ones.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

I love you.
DAD

Laine said...

I'm really thankful you're there to help! But more thankful that you bring Evelyn to our Short-family party!

Mom2four said...

Amen.