The good news: my son had his first giggle fit EVER, and it was stinking adorable. The bad news: we’re reasonably sure that the teething process has begun. Pray for our souls.
Y’all. Y’ALL. I have the show memorized. Not as soon as I was hoping for, but I did it, and my kiddo didn’t feel like mommy neglected his almost 4-month-old self. There will be a party to celebrate this feat. With cookies. Because I deserve a cookie, dammit!
For my next trick…
I still have to find time every day to get into my script. It doesn’t sound like much, but when you consider that the days that I get to potty without a tiny audience are rare… suddenly it seems herculean. It shouldn’t. I should be able to let Eli wiggle on his little play mat for just a little while every day while I , y’know, DO MY JOB, but… I’m so afraid of missing something. Normal? Yes. Need to put on my big girl panties and deal with it anyway? Yes.
I may have the show memorized, but that doesn’t mean that it’s a part of me yet. I still feel myself slipping in and out of character while frantically searching for my next word, and until the flubs, flusters, and flailings are gone, my homework is not yet done.
Let’s be honest. My script is probably about to live by my bathtub, that I may read over my notes every night during my late night “I just need one hour to myself” bubble bath.
A “Oh! Eli and I discovered baby wearing today, and we’re both much happier!” me
Praise God almighty, my arms are free at last!!!