Sweating the Small Stuff

October 9th, 2008 by Rainey

I believe it was the beginning of this week when I filled Conan in.  “Thursday and Friday Zekie’s school is doing school pictures.  I am not sure if they are doing the nursery or not, but we should probably put him in something cute for both days.”

He concurred.

Then the week progressed.  Zekie decided to wake up every two hours at night again this week as if he were a newborn.  Teething?  A cold?  Insomnia?  Nightmares?  Just trying to have a little one-on-one time in the middle of the night with mom?  We have no idea.  But we haven’t slept much.  And I have managed to come down with a cold.

This morning, after being awakened by the kee kaht, Isaac had some one-on-one time with daddy while I showered and got ready for work, shrouded in a stuffy, snotty, achey haze of colditude.

I paid little to no attention to what Isaac had on.

And really, he looked pretty cute.  Kahkis.  A onesie polo with airplanes on it.  An admirable outfit by any standards.  When I think of some of the other outfits he has worn in the past couple of weeks I should have been pretty impressed.  And I was.

That is until I took him to preschool and began seeing the line of sweater vests marching towards me and realized with terror that today was PICTURE DAY.  These kids were coordinated.  Their faces were clean.  Their hair was brushed.  Their mothers probably even had found time to put makeup on themselves this morning…something I can only manage about once a week.  In comparison, my kid began to look more and more like a street urchin, spunky but a little bedraggled.  He wasn’t even wearing shoes.

I raced home to try to grab overalls or some sort of sweater.  Do we have a sweater vest?  Yes.  Did I stoop to that level?  No.  Thank God.

But I did manage to totally loose my shit over whether or not my child had on a picture-appropriate outfit.

I raced back to SLC, only to find that the picture of the class had already been taken.  They were going to do individual pictures next.  I had time to change my child.  But I looked down at him as he walked around the room with a huge grin on his face and said to myself, “Get a grip, woman!  This is your baby!  Not a walking advertisement of how together you are in the morning.”  I scooped up the overalls and the frog sweater I had grabbed at home and pushed them back down into my bag.  I leaned over and kissed my baby boy.  And then I walked out to go back to my office.

I work full time.  My husband works 40 miles away.  I have a ten month old that I see for the better part of every day, even at my office.  We provide meals for him, a clean crib, clean clothes, and–most importantly–time and love.  We are a happy family, even when we are not all that with it in the morning.

I may not wear makeup and my kid may not wear shoes.  But at least he doesn’t wear sweater vests.

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