Day care > krokodil.

This parenthood thing is rocking my world in a very weird way.

I remember back when I used to get excited about scoring some cute CK shoes at Marshall's or volunteering making my own clothes researching stock investments drinking wine alone while watching Gilmore Girls. It's said that when you become a parent, your priorities shift. They just do. As I'm learning, you don't need to actually have the kid on the outside of your body for this to begin.

Because right now? I'm still roughly 8-9 weeks away from producing a child and I'm getting excited about stuff that I honestly feel should not be exciting to anyone.

A week or two ago, I got the news that we got a spot for Prune Candy at our preferred day care. That news gave me a rush that rivals that fancy new drug, krokodil (but it comes with a lot less of the flesh-deterioration).

"Mrs. Sheffield? Hi, this is the nice director from the day care you toured. We're happy to let you know that there is a spot available for your child in June if you are still interested. As you know, getting your child into a day care feels very competitive and a bit like trying to get them into college. There are wait lists and stuff. But you made the cut because you and your husband completely blew us away with your innate awesomeness. We feel that your sure-to-be super-awesome child will give us major cool points. Plus, Mrs. Sheffield, we hear you have a very popular blog and would love it if you accidentally-on-purpose plug our day care and talk about how great we are so that the thousands of readers you have will learn about us."

"Are you kidding? This is fantastic! This is the best news I've had in ages! My thousands of readers will know that you are great and awesome and you will get tons of business! Plus, people will see Patrick or me dropping off the most amazing baby ever and will be like, 'Whoa. The Sheffields take their kid there! We've gotta get our kid in there. ' It's a win for everyone!"

Or it could have been that they have 12 spots, we were #13 on the list, and at least one person on the list above us decided to go elsewhere. Either way, though, Patrick and I were high-fiving and chest-bumping in celebration.

I can't imagine how happy I'll be if I find out I get a sweet breast-pump paid for by my insurance. Or that those adorable onsies are on the best sale of all time.

This is my life now. And in a few short months...

oh geez... a few short months?

[long exhale... mild panic... major panic... breathing into paper bag... collapse on floor... feebly cry for assistance... scare all around me... return to the upright and locked position... regain my strength and composure...]

Ahem. As I was saying--and in a few short months, life is surely going to be even weirder. I'll be discussing the virtues of certain bottles over others. Researching the various ways of teaching children to eat solid food. PUMPING. And at some point, it will begin to feel like my new normal, I guess.

That transition into a "new normal" seems to have begun already. I'm morphing into "a parent." I pray that I'll still remember I'm also a human being, a wife, a person who likes wine and Gilmore Girls and discount designer shoes. You may need to pray for me, too. It may be a rough ride--but not for baby because we found this really well-reviewed car seat...

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