I'm a Worrier, Like My Mother Before Me.

I just emailed my mom two documents.  One is a one-page guide to Emily's schedule, medication dosages, and food requirements, along with a note about tantrums.  The other is a list of foods that she likes to eat.  I also sent a second email with details about her doctor.

Does my sending this to my mother indicate a lack of confidence in her ability to care for my daughter?  No. 

Does it reflect my reluctance to leave my daughter and my guilt about doing so?  Probably.

Mostly, though, I know my mom.  She's a worrier.  She's a planner.  A list maker.  A scheduler. 

I provided this document as a cheat sheet to the things I have learned about my daughter and the tools and tricks I use to keep her happy.

It is my firm belief that if a parent anticipates their child's needs, behaviors, and wants, they can mitigate most bad behavior.  Not all, certainly, as Emmy's daily tantrums can attest, but I think that a parent planning ahead is the difference between a normal happy child (who occasionally gets frustrated by normal child things) and a maladjusted, cranky, tired, unhappy child.

If your child gets enough sleep, they are less likely to spiral when they get frustrated (and with limited communication skills, frustration is inevitable).

So, for my mom, I wrote down what Emmy's schedule is, and what she expects throughout the day so that her schedule will change as little as possible.  I can't tell my mom everything that I know, and from a logical standpoint, I understand that, but my hope is that writing some of it down will help.

I think, mostly, though, this is just evidence of how much like my mother I am.  If you plan and think about it enough, things won't go wrong.  But like I told mom, babies are just a big ball of chaos, and though planning certainly helps, helicopter (grand)parenting will just lead to anxious children (and lots of gray hair).

Pending Milestone

This weekend will be the first time that Emmy will be away from both of her parents at the same time.

We're flying to New Jersey for a wedding, and we decided it would be easier (on everyone) if Emmy stayed with Grandma and Grandpa.  (We won't mention how much Tom and I are looking forward to two and a half days with no responsibility for anyone but ourselves, because... well... it makes me feel guilty to admit it)

I'm not worried about it (not excessively so, anyway) but I know Weez is.  I think she has imagined a worst-case scenario where Emmy wakes up on Friday morning (she's spending the night Thursday through Saturday), realizes neither Tom nor I are there, and proceeds to cry until we return on Sunday.  I, on the other hand, imagine that Emmy will barely notice, with all the people to pay attention to her (Grandma, Grandpa, and Aunt Patty?!)

I can imagine lots of worse worst-case scenarios, and some of them freeze my blood, but it's counter-productive and it strays too far into the neuroses that I try to avoid.  This weekend will be fine.  Emmy will be fine.  She will not believe that her mom and dad have abandoned her.  She will not cry the entire time.  She will not drink a bottle of cleaning fluid or be scratched by a cat who has not been trained to play nice with the baby.

She will be doted on, played with, and loved.  And that's what matters.

I keep imagining all the free time I will have on this brief trip.  Maybe I can finish my book (the kindle tells me I have read 61% of Stephen King's Under the Dome).  Maybe there will be a treadmill in the hotel and I can get a run in.  Maybe I can just nap in between all the wedding festivities.  Whatever I end up doing, I'm really looking forward to the trip.