Anyway in my attempt to be less crazy about Cooper I have decided to pinpoint some of the crazy things I think and do in order to not think and do them anymore. Novel idea. And in the process I felt I might as well share my craziness for the sake of other's entertainment because let's be honest, it's much more fun to be friends with someone who admits their faults rather than someone who is always bragging about how perfect their life is and oh my gosh I just had a spare 20 minutes and I sewed my own play clothes out of the curtains. Right? Or is that just me?
So... the ways in which motherhood has turned me crazy:
First and probably craziest, increased paranoia. Need I say more than I called the police on my neighbor who borrowed some eggs to make peanut butter cookies? Old Paige probably would have been a little unnerved and then gone about her day. New Paige grabs a steak knife, locks all the doors, and calls the police. I probably have a nightmare about once a week that we get robbed (because who wouldn't want to rob my classy condo?) and then I have to fight off the robbers to protect Cooper. And I get so freaked out about these nightmares that I usually can't fall back asleep afterwards and end up waking Josh up too to talk about those mean robbers who tried to also kidnap Cooper!
Second and probably the most prohibiting of me becoming a normal person again... my incessant research of all things baby. Not just casual reading up on which crib is best but crazy stuff like nitrate levels in carrots and spinach, flame retardant chemicals that can cause cancer, links between asthma and eczema, levels of lead in tap water... Literally if there has been something written about it, I have read it. And even worse, I read about stuff that I don't have to worry about for years like different philosophies about disciplining your toddler! And all of this reading makes me want to do crazy things like have the lead levels in our water tested even though we don't have lead pipes, and write to the California legislature to urge them to stop requiring flame retardant chemicals- who cares if your whole state is pretty much always on fire, my baby gets his diaper changed on something that could possibly be carcinogenic! And then I e-mail Josh danish studies about the timing of introduction of solid foods and the affect it has on children with eczema.
Side note: Danish studies are awesome. Because researchers have access to the population's full medical records which enables them to form conclusions based on the whole population rather than just a sampling in a study. And also they found that introducing solid foods at 4 months or at 6 months caused no increase of food allergies in babies with eczema. And also, maybe I should just give my kid some rice cereal and stop being such a crazy pants.
Third, hypochondria. Oh my word. I basically want to rush Cooper to the emergency room every time he coughs. I'm convinced Cooper has a lazy eye and I had the pediatrician write me a referral to an opthamologist (though I haven't taken him yet because the 1% of rational brain function I have has prevented me.) One night we built a fire and then Josh closed the floo a little too soon and our carbon monoxide detector went off, Josh just opened the floo and opened some windows for some air circulation and went back to bed like a normal person. But I wanted to wake Cooper up, take him outside in the freezing cold, and then call the fire department to have them come check the carbon monoxide levels in our house... I am pretty much always on WebMD and always diagnosing Cooper with a horrible disease.
Fourth, increased road rage. Whenever someone tailgates me now or drives aggressively, whether Cooper is in the car or not, I get absolutely livid. Heaven help the poor soul that accidentally crashes into me one day while Cooper's in the car, I will literally kill them with my bare hands. I even have a baby on board sign.
Fifth, obssesive praise. One of my friends read somewhere that to promote later potty training you should act excited when your baby poops and refrain from acting grossed out. Um.... I already do that. I am so weirdly proud of absolutely every miniscule bodily function that Cooper performs. Every single time I change Cooper's diaper I tell him what an amazing pooper he is and how he should give lessons to all the other babies on how to poop and then just praise his poop for the next ten minutes. I do the same thing whenever he pees, pukes, burps, sneezes, or pretty much anything. This kid is going to be in for a shock when he goes to school and sneezes and no one says "Oh my goodness that was the best sneeze I've ever heard anybody do. You are so smart and wonderful!"
Sixth, irrational anger at normal people. Sometimes when some sweet old lady comes up to me and harmlessly says, "what a cute baby! oh but my grandkids are cuter!" I want to sock that old lady in the mouth. And sometimes when Cooper is looking at someone at church and they don't even smile at him, I want to sock them in the mouth too. And sometimes when we go to a store and no one tells me what a cute baby I have, I want to punch everybody in that store. I have a serious, serious problem where I think that Cooper should be number one in everybody's lives. (Well, people with kids can have their own kids be number one but Cooper should at least be a close second.) I think that everyone should shower him with gifts and praise and love and attention all the time. Josh tries to get me to understand that not everyone is going to think Cooper is as great as we do but I haven't quite gotten it yet and it has definitely made me really mad at some poor, innocent people.
But who wouldn't be crazy about this kid?
To add to #2, you should Google plastic baby bottles. Not sure what the alternative is but after watching a documentary on plastic I don't think I'd let my future baby be drinking out of one.
ReplyDeleteI think the alternative is glass bottles or Heather's boobies. :)
Delete