Right now, I’m sitting upstairs in my office while my husband cleans the kitchen. Dirty dishes in the sink and a clean load in the dishwasher are just some of the things I never got to today. Jeff thinks I’m busy writing a freelance article. And I should be. I have an insane amount of work due in the next week (which is a great “problem” to have).
The reason I’m not working? I can’t stop thinking about this afternoon. Wyatt was ridiculously cranky. Shrieking like I’ve never heard before. He wouldn’t sleep at all, did not have a temperature, wasn’t extra hungry or gassy, and I didn’t see any signs of progress with the current tooth or more teeth.
Of course it’s not unusual for a baby to cranky. Especially a baby who is seldom happy. But the degree of his crankiness was just odd. And, well, he’s going to be four months next week.
By now, most moms know their babies. Most moms know why their babies are crying. Most moms know how to somewhat soothe their babies, even if they can’t completely calm them down.
But I don’t.
Sometimes I feel like an imposter. I feel like I stumbled onto this job of motherhood without really being qualified. For someone who wanted to be a mom so badly, it’s shocking that I devoted so much time to researching infertility then birth stories, but never once considered learning about how to parent the actual human being. Well, I read the books about the shh-ing and swaddling, but seriously? That info was only helpful for a week at most.
You know how if you’re afraid of a dog you’re not supposed to show it? Dogs can sense fear, supposedly. Well, I think Wyatt got that trait from his furball brother. I swear he can sense my lack of mommy confidence.
He’s either laughing at me or bored by my pathetic attempts to entertain him.
Or he’s flipping me off or just completely miserable.
So I’m trying my best to act like I know what I’m doing. Fake it ‘til you make it, right?
Here’s hoping it works…