Maybe I’m being a little too kind to Noah and me, but we kinda rocked the parenting thing tonight.
I do not always feel like the best mom. Part of this is because I am new at this gig. And part of this is because I always thought I would be better at it than I am. Post-partum hit me like a wrecking ball that I did not see coming. It’s in large part to the fact that I had kind of resigned myself to the fact that even though I was bringing a child into the world, the chances of me actually getting to be a parent we so slim I was truly unprepared. This sounds like the worst excuse EVER but it’s hard to hear doctors tell you that only one of you is going to come out of this alive. I was going through old notes of Noah and mine and at the top is said “People to contact when Eli and/or Angela come out of surgery.” So yeah… Not the best start.
But tonight, we rocked. Poor little man has the WORST DIAPER RASH! Now I know you’re thinking “That’s not a sign of great parenting. You just need to change his diaper more.”
I know that. Give me a second. Pushy tonight!
So we checked on line and basically all we can do is wash his little tush in warm water and put cream on it. So we did. I held him in the sink and Noah sprayed his bum. He cried and cried and I wanted to cry too. When it was done, he clung to me so tight, tears falling down his face. Noah had his room prepped with a diaper already out, but we both decided tonight, no bottoms, just a shirt. Poor little man. It took it all out of him. Before we even got him to the crib he was asleep on the changing table. We had gotten the shirt on him and a wub-a-nub in his mouth and with in seconds all was still. He took a deep breath and everything was all right.
Before Noah put him in his crib he took a picture of him asleep on the table. His shirt says it all. For those who know the context, you know that it’s meant to be sarcasm.
For me, it is all too real.