One of Those Days

There are days when I feel like I have this parenthood thing figured out. Where he cries and I know exactly what to do to make him happy and content. These days are the majority. The phrase "parenthood thing figured out" seems like a joke anyway. I have a feeling I am going to spend the rest of his life "figuring this parenthood thing out". We've spent so much time together and I'm constantly learning more about him. Example - Car rides have not been his high points. They pacifier falls out of his mouth and he screams like a crazy man until we get to our destination or stopped at a light where I can put it back in. The other day before going for a ride I took the head support out of the car seat because he's got control of his neck now and doesn't need it. He did AWESOME in the car. He cooed and was vocal but it was a happy cry not his ticked off cry. And he moved his head from side to side. He was a happy kid. That was a day I was feeling on my game. Thinking to myself, "I got this."

Today was not one of those days. They are few and far between and I am by no means complaining. I wouldn't trade these days for anything. But I hate that helpless feeling. We were up all through out the night last night with him. He had horrible gas. He would cramp up and then straighten really quickly and pass gas. He'd cry hard and you could tell he was miserable. I hate that feeling! So I made a few changes and did what I could to help him out today and I think tonight is going to be a better night. (Fingers crossed.) And it's all really a guessing game. People tell you what worked for them, but it doesn't mean that is going to work for our baby. You just do what you can.

I'm only writing about this because I want this blog to be the good, the bad, and the ugly. I got ready to leave the house this evening to run errands and when Craig hugged me bye I just started crying. Because I was exhausted and because I spent all night last night feeling completely helpless and unable to make it better for him.

I know I'm going to have days like this for the rest of his life. Even when he's able to talk and tell me what is wrong with him. There will still be days where I feel like I brought nothing to the table. Where I did all I could and it will still not feel like it was enough. Where I am unable to "make it all better for him". But the good far outweight days like this. That's the best part about it. And at the end of the day, he's going to love me anyway. At least I hope. :)