They tell you it's gonna be hard with a baby. They tell you you'll never sleep and that the house will be a mess and you'll never have any time to get anything done. And you sort of believe them, because they ALL say it and they can't ALL be liars, but you also somehow think that maybe they're weak. They couldn't handle it because they're not as strong, organized, and smart as you. You think that somehow it won't be as hard as they say.
But it is. And even harder.
Dash is, knock wood, a dream baby. He's happy and friendly and funny and easygoing. He's just like his dad (and the opposite of me). And even with Dream Baby, it's hard. We don't sleep and the house is a mess and we can never get anything done.
Now, throw in starting daycare and all of the new organizational requirements and anxiety that it brings with it. Now throw in Dash's first cold. Now throw in Josh & me getting the stomach flu. Now throw in Dash getting the stomach flu on top of his cold. Now throw in my mother, our only babysitter outside of daycare, getting the same stomach flu.
Are you good and freaked out? Yeah, me too.
Josh and I have been fighting more than usual lately. It's hard. We're tired and sick and we constantly feel overwhelmed and overworked and underappreciated. So that's what we were doing (fighting) last night when Dash woke up howling.
The moment Josh lifted him out of his crib Dash projectile vomited into Josh's mouth. I obviously thought that was hilarious and didn't stop laughing until he vomited again and with such velocity that it not only bathed me completely, but also made its way INSIDE a closed linen cabinet and onto the hand-embroidered organza table runner my mother brought me from Spain that was (I'ma say it again because, seriously) INSIDE A CLOSED LINEN CABINET.
But the point is this: it is so worth it. We fight and we cry and we feel completely inadequate and ill-equipped. We labor trying to figure out how to go from being two people to a unit composed of three (I mean, really, have you ever put together an Ikea bookcase without having a fight? Try building a cohesive fucking family unit. Try. I'll wait here). And there will be vomit-soaked nights and disasters of timing. But it is so worth it. Every frantic moment and passed-around virus. It is worth every gray hair and Rolaid tablet.
Because we are a family.