Flying Solo

So, here I am with a baby who is 4 1/2 weeks old, and of course with Miss Kate who is 2 1/2 years old, taking care of them solo for the first time. And wonder of wonders I’m not weeping, freaking out, or calling Mark to come home immediately. But give me time.

As with Kate, I’m once again daunted by the prospect of staying home to care for kids. It’s really a luxury that I realize we are lucky to be able to afford (at least temporarily), but as someone who is addicted to people and action and energy and activity, in my most fearful hours I look at is as a jail sentence.

The thing is, if we lived in some turbo suburbia where there were rows of houses occupied by other stay-a-home moms (and kids), I think it would be easier. Just walk out the door and there’s someone else doing what you are doing–in other words, clutching a latte for dear life and looking desperately for something to do to entertain the kids that is inexpensive, safe, not overly taxing on your own energy, and maybe even somewhat educational. I guess if some were to walk through our neighborhood they’d make the argument that I have nothing to complain about. You can’t swing a dead cat in this town without hitting a $700 stroller.

But invariably it’s being pushed by a nanny. I mean, not that I’m opposed to socializing with a nanny and her charges, but somehow it’s different from conspiring (and sometimes commiserating) with another mom. Probably ’cause we’re not getting paid.

All this thinking has me wondering if a different setting would make the staying home thing more fun. I mean, shouldn’t I be springing from bed each day delighting in the fact that no part of my day will involve saying my name when I answer the phone, or sitting in a gray cubicle as Outlook tells me where to go and what to do? You’d think.

Oh great. Kate is wailing in her room, “Mama! Mama!” trying to dodge taking a nap, and the lawn/garden guys just pulled up in front of the house ready to turn on their volume 11 weed whackers and whack to high hell any hope of Kate settling down. See? I used to worry about client presentations. Now I fear that my well manicured lawn could result in a cranky over-tired toddler. Sheesh.

Paige, on the other hand, is napping nicely in her carseat bucket. Must remember to relish this early-life sleep ethic.

Okay, call me crazy but I’m “going in” to see if I can settle Kate down into restful slumber. Wish me luck, and see you in the grocery store. I’ll be the one in the $10 Target Mom sweatpants…