The Night Top Gear Tried to Kill Me

BONUS POST! (I couldn’t find this post that I had started yesterday but now, here you go! Enjoy laughing at me, or with me, either way…)

So the other night, lying in bed, my husband and I are watching the newest episode of Top Gear where my three favorite goobers are attempting to make ambulances more efficient, faster and apparently more deadly when I literally laughed so hard at them that I had a bronchospasm and ended up requiring a breathing treatment with albuterol. I shit you not (one of the most dumb but stereotypical southern phrases this empress could think of). Somewhere between James May loosing his patient and Richard Hammond firing his into the pretend “ER” my husband was doing that crying-laughing bit and I was already cracked up by the show AND laughing so hard at him that I literally was almost killed by laughter. Well this is over-exaggerating a bit but I did get into bad shape. Totally worth it though…has to be one of my favorite episodes at this point and we’ve seen them all…even pre-Hamster and Captain Slow episodes.

I know in my blog description I forgot to mention my slight obsession with BBC television and my general annoyance at much of American TV. That’s another rant for another day (but seriously Honey Boo Boo and Little Women LA? WTF ‘Murica? Same land of Jane Russell and Gene Kelly?) Hopefully we will head to Western Europe (and more specifically the UK although that is up in the air) by next year, as that is what the hubster and I are wanting to do before Lil Bit starts school and we want to take my sister with us for her graduation gift…and on that bombshell I must really say good night.

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A New Year of New Mondays

Today was our first “Mommy and Lil Bit day” of the new year.

You know how on very rare days you manage to stretch out the minutes and fit everything in that you intended to accomplish into those precious hours? Somehow I managed to do that today and if this is any indication of how the new year will go I am looking forward to living it up. I have about 12 hours or so one day a week to try to pack in as much mommy time as possible and it is a lot of pressure especially if Lil Bit is having a bad day.

I have found in this brief but enlightening journey as a mom of a now 3 year old, that I have set up my idea of being a good mom in such a way that I will never know a guilt-free moment. Now this guilty train of thought is not necessarily in a mindful way, but almost completely subconscious, likely based on my nursing/medical background, pinterest, mothering books and my OWN mother–all of these things adding pressure and driving my already overachieving brain to be the best sort of mom. So much so that I sometimes catch myself being a crappy mom in the process….

Not going to lie, I totally googled “working mom guilt” and after flipping through a few articles I found this. The article is from a few years ago but it feels all to fitting, however she herself seems unable to offer a solution to the problem.

Looking back at my beginnings as a mother, I set my alarm when my infant slept through the night so that I could make sure there was (barely) enough pumped breastmilk to get her through the next night I worked (12 hr night-shifts wreak havoc on your prolactin levels) and cried when I spilled a 2oz bottle the first week I went back to work after pumping–in the breakroom because we did not have a lactation room. I probably would have made more milk and been a better, kinder full-time working, graduate-school-attending mom if I had gotten a good night’s rest instead. I get so preoccupied with how things are supposed to be, trying to find decent prices/coupons on organic food or meal-prepping for the week so that we can eat “cleaner” that I miss an opportunity to play with my child or teach her something new. I KNOW in my heart that it is better to be one-on-one with her and to give her a kind, caring, mother rather than a completely organic and balanced diet and every Barbie for her bless-ed dream house but my head tells me these are things that matter.

After today, where I actually spent the majority of the day WITH my daughter and not just in the same household as her, I remember why I went down to a 4 day work week and I think that this may be why the whole household has been more balanced today. Today also gives me pause and makes me consider an underlying, additional New Years Resolution…to be a mom to the best of my REALISTIC abilities rather than those that I have superimposed on myself. Wish me luck!

Worries of A First Time Mom and Chronic Overthinker

Ever look at your child and think “I made that lovely, beautiful creature and am so absolutely blessed to have her in my life ” and immediately have that thought be replaced by “Oh dear, please don’t let me fuck her up!”

Is it just the relative newness of being a parent or is it the fear we have from remembering the time our parents stepped in it?

For the most part I had a fairly conventional, happy childhood. In fact I remember mostly the good from it.

However I did end up with a broken jaw from an ATV accident at a very young age, I’m sure I ate and drink things I’d rather Lil’ Bit never look at much less put in her mouth. I guess what I’m really getting at is that I’m always wondering how much what I say, do and let her do are going to effect who she grows up to be.

And on a similar note, how much are the you-shouldn’t-let-your-child-do-things-like-that, extreme safety consciousness ideas our generation is  constantly using as a guideline in raising our own children taking away from who they could be? Are we raising wimps or worse, anxiety-ridden homebodies?

I really do wonder if my feeding Lil’ Bit mostly organic food, avoiding the word “no” and trying not to spank her little bottom when she misbehaves are hurting or helping.

What is the point of my pseudo-epiphany? I guess in the end all I can do is follow a constant piece of advice my mother gives me– “follow my heart”.

In the end in the event of worse case scenarios….she’ll have some REALLY good stories to tell….just hopefully not to her shrink.

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