"One minute please..." I say that phrase over and over in a single day. Living with a 10 week old demands immediacy, quickness, and sometimes I just need a minute. It's amazing that sometimes that one minute seems like an eternity for both of us.
In this case, I need a minute to get myself together after our trip to Chicago. Fun was had. Adult conversation abounded. The wee-one was amazing.
But, I now have a cold. I have at least temporarily lost the camera cord. And Charles is back to work with his usual gusto.
That reminds me of a question that I have... how does one find a babysitter?
I must say that Oprah has not done me any favors in trusting just any old babysitter. I LOVE her. I want to write her a letter and thank her for keeping me sane in the long afternoons of my teenage years, the emotionally tumultuous 20s, and now in my marathon day-into-nights of maternity leave. I love you Oprah.
BUT, she had a show on a couple of weeks ago about sexual abuse. The statistics are alarming - not just that one in four women will be sexually abused, but that over 90% of those people are abused by people they know - not strangers. How do I live with a beautiful child AND that statistic in my head? I may need some therapy - because that is just unbelievable and it makes keeping her safe from harm seem like an even more daunting task.
I am a helicopter-parent in training.
Alright, well I am off to nap while my angel naps. I promise to find the camera cord as soon as I can swallow without pain...