No Sharing
I am neurotic about Will having some things just for him, no matter how impractical this desire is. Maybe the problem is that 99% of his clothes and toys are hand-me-downs from his big brother. Or that all of his bibs have sweet potato stains on them from 2003, a full 3 years before he was born. Or that he has to share his mommy, even when he is sick and should have me all to himself. Or that even his bedroom is not his own – it is also a nap room for daycare kids to sleep in.
I try to not to be resentful toward the kids. After all, if it weren't for them, I would not be “staying home” with my baby at all.
But it does lead to my neuroses. For example, there is this gumby-style cloth flower that has a bendable stem and a bright, happy face on it. I used to wrap the stem around the changing table for him to look at while I changed him. Once, one of the daycare kids got a hold of it and put her mouth on it. I almost lost my mind and scolded her, then reminded myself that her action was totally innocent and the problem was mine.
But every time it falls into one of their hands, I feel myself watching it like a hawk, waiting for a sneaky moment to steal it away and return it to its rightful place.
It is this anal retentiveness that made me buy him three new outfits at a semi-expensive clothing store last weekend, despite my tight financial situation. The clean stripes and cargo-pocketed pants got the best of me.
I do not listen to the practical voice inside, reminding me that Will would not know or care if the big kids played with his circus train until he was old enough to appreciate it. Doesn't matter. I want his toys to have no spit, snot, marks, or wear of any kind once he is ready for them. It is the least I can do.
© 2006 Red Rollerskate. I'm not sharing that either.
I am neurotic about Will having some things just for him, no matter how impractical this desire is. Maybe the problem is that 99% of his clothes and toys are hand-me-downs from his big brother. Or that all of his bibs have sweet potato stains on them from 2003, a full 3 years before he was born. Or that he has to share his mommy, even when he is sick and should have me all to himself. Or that even his bedroom is not his own – it is also a nap room for daycare kids to sleep in.
I try to not to be resentful toward the kids. After all, if it weren't for them, I would not be “staying home” with my baby at all.
But it does lead to my neuroses. For example, there is this gumby-style cloth flower that has a bendable stem and a bright, happy face on it. I used to wrap the stem around the changing table for him to look at while I changed him. Once, one of the daycare kids got a hold of it and put her mouth on it. I almost lost my mind and scolded her, then reminded myself that her action was totally innocent and the problem was mine.
But every time it falls into one of their hands, I feel myself watching it like a hawk, waiting for a sneaky moment to steal it away and return it to its rightful place.
It is this anal retentiveness that made me buy him three new outfits at a semi-expensive clothing store last weekend, despite my tight financial situation. The clean stripes and cargo-pocketed pants got the best of me.
I do not listen to the practical voice inside, reminding me that Will would not know or care if the big kids played with his circus train until he was old enough to appreciate it. Doesn't matter. I want his toys to have no spit, snot, marks, or wear of any kind once he is ready for them. It is the least I can do.
© 2006 Red Rollerskate. I'm not sharing that either.
posted by Andrea at 12:26 PM
1 Comments:
I so understand! For awhile I was taking in babysitting jobs and it peeved me when I found out that one of the kids smeared his coxsacchi (hand, foot and mouth) virus all over the toys my son had yet to even touch. Grrrr.
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