Bad Mom

I get now what mothers mean about how you have to get used to feeling guilt when you're a parent. I have felt it since the day Paxton was born. I often feel like I'm not interacting with him enough during his waking hours. I nurse him, cuddle him, hold him, read to him, play with him, all of that--but then I pop him into his bouncer so I can clean and I feel like I'm a total heel. I'll catch his eye from the loft when I'm rushing into his room to hang up clothes and he's downstairs bouncing and he looks at me with concern and then bursts into a giant, bright-eyed smile. Oh, I just love that baby. When he goes to sleep, I'm thrilled for a short time at the freedom I have, and then I miss him enough to want to go wake him up to hold him. It's a strange phenomenon.

This week, I got to experience a new level of guilt. I was at story time at the local library, and I had him sitting on my lap while I was talking to another parent. He is still not crawling, but he desperately wants to stand. If I have him sitting in my lap, he thrusts himself upwards to try to stand, particularly if he wants to reach something or someone who is nearby. While I was talking to the mom, he bounced into a standing position and promptly toppled forward and bonked his little forehead on the carpet before us. He made the dreaded face accompanied by quiet rage and then exploded into shrieks of anger and pain. The woman I was talking to moved away from us, not subtly. I scooped him up and had him quieted within a few minutes, but everyone in the group was looking at us with what I could only assume was judgment. I sort of wanted to melt into the ground, but I rallied. I felt bad that I let Paxton get hurt, but I felt extra bad that every mother in the library saw my failure. Ack.

Chris' parents are in town this weekend. I took them with us to story time at the library this morning. That was...interesting. My father-in-law always films everything, so he had his camera in hand, getting shots for the next dvd to be sent to the family. And my mother-in-law thrives on being the center-of-attention (she'll tell you so herself), so she edged out some of the other parents to push Paxton to the box of blocks during playtime. I am going to be making some apologies when I return next week. It was fun, though, for the family to see what Paxton and I do for fun. He really likes to listen to the woman read the stories and watch her do ASL. He seems to like the songs and watching the other children. He's the youngest kid there, but hopefully as he gets a little older, he'll get to interact more with the kids. I think the next oldest are 13 and 14 months. He'll be on their level soon enough. I can't believe he turns eight-months-old next week!

Have I mentioned yet that Paxton has attempted clapping? He doesn't quite get the hang of it, but he makes a fist with one hand and holds it against his stomach while he slaps it with his other hand. It's so cute. Applause used to terrify him, but now he's appreciating the appeal. Maybe someday he won't be terrified of ice machines when I get fountain drinks. Hopefully before he begins high school he'll grow accustomed. That might be a weird quirk.

I'm off to peek in on him and read yet another Janet Evanovich book. I'm addicted. I love the Stephanie Plum series. I'm so sad that I'm going through them so quickly. Everything moves too fast. Slow down, time! Slow down!