The reset

So I wrote this about a month ago and tonight while reading and reminiscing about my favorite boy who is currently under the weather while his Mama battles the bridal blues, I accidentally have reminded myself that its time to reset.  I need to get off the mommy hamster wheel and do something fun for myself.  Call the friend I have been dying to check in with but up until lately have only been able to muster a text, drink a glass of wine that has been passed over in favor of caffeine day after day, and pat myself on the back for having the baby in bed by 8.  Oh yeah.  I would have just rewritten all of this but the second paragraph is essentially my everyday truth and you should probably read it and have a laugh at my expense....

Like most Moms that try to be everything to everyone, I struggle a little to let go of my Mommy role and settle into my partner role.  We just went to Boston to celebrate my soon to be sister in law's graduation from optometry school.  Talk about being knocked down the ladder on who Leavitt will ask to career day…. I will send muffins, whatever.

Before we left him in the loving, capable hands of my mother I had a little break down.  I always worry about being less than a short drive from him so I was a little nerved up.  I also have a nagging OCD version of my Grammy Nightingale inside that would like to put plastic on the furniture.  So just as I thought we were ready to roll, Nick who has used the oven all of four times decided to make himself some lunch.  WHAT. THE. HELL.  I can't stomach coming home to a mess.  Not to get carried away but the thought brings me to tears.  Then Leavitt barfed.  Yeah that again.  So I started crying.  I'm going to miss him, I'm sick of cleaning up vomit, partial tears of joy that Nick knows how to use the oven, and partially crying because there is a mess I might come home to.  I am a mess. My mom, witness to the whole shit show.

Honestly I love the rare quality time I get with my man.  It feels good to feel that connection that has weathered years of life.  Sometimes I get a little nervous wondering if he thinks I have become too safe and forgotten that wild child in me that brought us together.  We talk a lot about Leavitt, how funny his quirks are, how much we love his little attitude even though he knows how to push my buttons like his daddy.  We spent the weekend following an itinerary stealing moments here and there of quiet.  Then on our way to brunch we got stuck in a fancy town we don't live in, blocked out by a parade not for us and we threw our hands in the air and drove north.  Stopped at a cute little place in Kittery to soothe the hanger pains and hit the gap outlet...baby clothes, cute mom jeans, and carb overload...priorities people.

I honestly did not need to reset myself very often until lately.  The mom days are longer, the sleep shorter, the tantrums louder, my man less accessible, the stuff that our life is made of seems to all be on steroids lately.  However my willingness to let go and ask for help gets less and less. His stages feel so fleeting I don't want to miss anything, but I am afraid I won't even recognize myself if I don't catch my breath.