There's snow everywhere in our hood, as a result of that blizzard, which I refuse to call by that lame, fake name the Weather Channel created so they could "catastrophize with greater ease," according to my wise friend, Paula.
I got home late tonight and couldn't find parking, because most people here take public transportation into the city and just have a car for fun weekend trips and are not planning to move said cars ever, or at least until spring. I finally pulled into a space that half blocked a driveway and I get a text from C, responding to my earlier question, "Are you home?"
C: Yeah. AND STELLA WALKS.
And then tears started streaming down my face, in the darkness of my car, which I had just parked on a dirty snow mound, partially blocking a driveway.
Let me explain.
I've been working my ASS off lately and I find myself constantly guilt-ridden about missing little and big things with Stella.
I'm lucky in that my job is pretty flexible and that I can technically work from home. But, the news business is stressful...there's always a daily crisis and there are a million and one meetings/assignments that take me away from home during the day.
The truth is, I couldn't wait to go back after maternity leave. Most people whose kids had colic know what I'm talking about. E calls it PTCS - Post Traumatic Colic Syndrome.
But then there are those moms who will say over and over again, "Don't you wish you never had to leave?" and if you don't 100 percent agree, it makes you feel like a bad mother. That's the worst feeling ever, particularly if you love this tiny little person so much, you're genuinely concerned that your heart might explode.
After some unwarranted self-bashing, I decided to give myself a break. (Truthful posts like this one certainly helped.) I'm doing the best I can over here, so shut up people who feel like everyone in the universe is the same and should thereby have the same exact feelings after giving birth to a child!
But now, it's different. Now, every time I have to leave, I'm sad, because she's giggly and smiling and pointing to her belly and feet and saying C-C-CAT and B-B-BUD (bird) with such effort and enthusiasm.
And today, she took her first steps —with the babysitter. The babysitter, who is super loving and affectionate and whom I have come to love like a member of my own family.
But still, couldn't she have waited until I got home?
Note: She's only taking little independent steps here and there, not full-fledged walking. Literally, baby steps.
Posted by Giovanna at 1:51 AM