It Was A Challenging Day

Today felt like a long & difficult day. There was lots of good things - but these were nicely tempered by excellent opportunities for me to Learn Things. I'm not sure if it's the Universe, or just a side effect of this pregnancy, but my fuse is a lot shorter these days. My temper flares a lot more; it takes a lot more focus not to lose it. I can't remember if it was like this last time, because, well, I didn't have as much on my plate. And i think I was still sleeping like 18 hours a day. Hard to be angry when you're not awake. At any rate, here is what I Learned Today.
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It started off this morning - after 15 minutes, all Am had on was a diaper & her undershirt. She was happy, and she was quite insistent to "do-it!". Last night's pajama scuffle has led me to believe that she truly, truly means that she does not want any help from me. However, our likelihood of eating breakfast, getting out of the house, & to daycare & yoga on time was getting slimmer & slimmer. I was starting to feel mad - and I stopped, calmed myself down, and explained in my best Calm Adult voice that I know she wants to do it, and I know that she can do it, but after a while, we have other things we need to do, so she either has to put on her shirt herself or suffer me helping her to get dressed. (LESSON 1: Try new tactic* tomorrow: tell Amoryn That She Has Five Minutes o Do It Herself, And After That She Gets Help, AKA: Defining Limits In A Tangible Way While Still Respecting The Toddler.)
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It worked - thank heavens - and we got downstairs to breakfast, where she promptly had a fit because (I think) she wanted Daddy. Or the newspaper. Or water, no juice, no water, no juice, no NOT THAT JUICE WAAAGH! After trying to calm her, I just shrugged, set up her breakfast, then tried to get on with mine. (Lesson 2, previously mastered: Sometimes The Kid Will Be Upset & There Is No Helping Until She's Got Some Of It Out Of Her System, AKA: Give Yourself a Quiet Moment In The Pantry & It Will All Improve, Or At Least Not Get Much Worse, Provided The Kid Is Strapped To Her Chair & You Don't Mind Cleaning Up Some Cheerios.)

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This was sabotaged by the Terrible Smell in the fridge - I couldn't face the prospect of leaving that smell in there all day to fester. It showed up in the night, and after some cautious (gagging) exploration, I evicted some old grapes & oranges that were innocent of the smell but past their due-date, some scalloped potatoes from Easter that were a Bit Off, and some uncooked chicken breast that GYAGH, RETCH, GAG, *gasp*. Shudder. Looked fine, smelled baaaaaaaaaaad. (Lesson 3: Next time, throw out the damn rubbermaid container the bad stuff is in. No plastic is worth enduring that kind of smell. Also, bad raw chicken smells like rotten eggs - is that normal? How did I get to be 32 and not know that?)
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And this brings us to the only part of the day that makes me feel uncomfortable - so of course I'm talking about it. During Amoryn's post-brekky toothbrush, she was fighting back*, so I set her in her booster seat to finish brushing her teeth. And she kicked me in the belly. And I Got Mad. I was mad. We've been working on No Kicking Anything (Except Balls When We Play) for a long time, and I thought it was an established rule, that she got. And my belly, well, I'm growing another baby in there, so I'm a little protective of it. And my first reaction was to smack the living daylights out of her. My mammal brain (thankfully) jumped on my lizard brain's reflexes in time to arrest my arm muscles enough that it was a bit brisker than a loving cheek cup, but nowhere near a slap or a smack or a hit. And I felt awful. And still mad. And I turned around and roared out an expletive at the kitchen, because really, I didn't know how else to process; and I wasn't braced at that moment to NOT be angry about being kicked in the belly. I went and put my head back in the pantry for a moment, until I was in control enough not to burst into tears & I could go & comfort my now-frightened little girl. (It was the roar that upset her, I'm pretty sure. I've seen her smack herself in the face with books with far more impact. I don't roar much. I still feel guilty, though***.) (Lesson 3: Really not sure... although better to roar at the kitchen than at my child; better to let her cry for 30 seconds while I get myself together, than to push myself further & end up in a giant ole' heap of misery, with Amoryn in tow.
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How do you prepare for unexpected kicks in the morning? I was thinking of kicks from INSIDE my belly, but not for another couple months. Should I be wearing a umpire's ensemble for breakfast? I do know some people who are into that - baseball, I mean, not kicking at breakfast.)
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We were late to daycare & yoga, but I didn't care. Am hugged me, I hugged her, and that was a good thing. She was happy to get to daycare, and headed off to play & wave goodbye to me as I drove away, so I knew that I'd be more scarred by the morning than she. (Lesson 4: I'm bigger, and better able to process things, but she inherited part of her uncontrollable emotions from me, so I need to teach her how to deal with them in appropriate ways. Not really anything to do with daycare, but it sunk in about then.)
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My lovely yoga instructor smiled beatifically at me when I slunk*4 in late, and she (or someone else) had set aside an extra pile of all the props we needed*5. And - this was a delight - during an inversion called Sup-de-swami-kinsha (or something) - my belly popped out at me! Usually, gravity keeps it all tucked away fairly well still, but there was something about the arching backwards while upside down that popped Sandy right out at me. It was funny - like a preview for three months from now! (Lesson 5: Relax, and be in the moment. Even if the moment is an incredibly uncomfortable downward facing dog - when did my hamstrings atrophy so dramatically?)
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And don't worry, once of the (many) reasons I'm so taken with my yoga class is because the instructor specializes in pre & post natal yoga - and has done so for 7 years, through a pregnancy of her own, & teaches instructors as well. She provides variations of poses that are safe for Sandy & I, and once I'm too big to feel at ease in this class, I'm moving to her pre-natal class.
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From there to the office, with a quick stop at the LYS to pick up a longer 4mm needle - because Petal is expanding & desperately needs to be on something longer than a 60cm circular. Although - ha!ha! - once I was on the train, I discovered that - ha!ha! - I was actually knitting Petal with a 4.5 mm needle. So I just blew $23 on a non-returnable Addi Turbo LacePoint 4mm that I actually don't need right now - ha!ha! - and I'm stuck with either fighting with my too-short circular, or not knitting on the train. Also, I have a long-enough 4.5mm Addi at home - ha!ha! - so I could have fixed this problem yesterday. Ha! At least I a) bought a needle I didn't have already, & b) still have gauge. I think. Maybe...erm. I hope that I'm not going to learn anything else from this... (Lesson 6: Don't trust needles that don't SAY what they are, coupled with your memory, especially when said project is in your bag. Take it out & check - it's a yarn store, they should have some gauges around. Ha!ha! ANd don't tempt the knitting fates.)
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On the upside - Elann sent out their sneak preview for the next couple weeks, and I think I saw the yarn for Shawl That Jazz. I'll tell you more if I order it; but - and this is what I found auspicious - although the yarn is lighter than that called for in the pattern, I'm guessing that I would use a 4mm needle to get a similar hand of knitted fabric! Ha! (Lesson 7: Online memberships to email newsletters sometimes do pay off. So does optimism.)
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Work went well - I usually don't go to the office on Wednesdays, but the Cost Report of Awful Proportions needed some work. And what CRAP wants, CRAP gets. And I don't usually blog about my work - but this was funny. As I was proofing, ready to release the report to the client- I noticed something odd. I called a clever coworker over, and established that one of my formulas had corrupted somehow and added $1.8 million to the budget! Moops! Even funnier, it had been like this for the previous TWO issues of the report, and no one noticed! Well. After I wiped the tears of laughter from my face (and finished freaking out, because dude! My formulas! How did that happen? And more importantly - DID IT HAPPEN ANYWHERE ELSE???*6), I fixed it up, sent it off with a carefully worded "Moops" email, and headed home. (Lesson 8: Well, these things happen. And like the tree in the forest, if no one else noticed that $1.8 million, was it really that important?*7)
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I got home just before the man, and we both walked over to the daycare together to get Amoryn. And she was so excited, and so happy, and so full of delight. She was laughing & jumping up & down & hugging us; I think she was honestly more excited about it than she was about her birthday. It was the best part of my day, I think. (Lesson 9: Birthdays are a little amorphous, but being picked up by the two people you love best in the world? Well. That's something.)
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Then I did some laundry, and typed this all out. (Lesson 10: While you can wear jeans for a week, you shouldn't wear them after your toddler piddled on them, and sometimes it's better to get things out; out of your head, out of your system, out onto the Intarweb, out. I know some of you have had days like this - well, mostly, I admit the $1.8 mill is a bit of an anomaly.)
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And now I'm going to bed. Yay! (Lesson 11: Someties a good sleep will cure all ills. Or at least render them in proportion.)
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*Sometimes a new tactic is almost more exciting than an actual occurrence - because the tactic might work! It could be perfect! Gosh!
**She hates me brushing her teeth, & she loves her dad doing it. If he does it enough times in a row, I might be able to sneak in there once, before she realizes it's me, but then Bam! Back to wrestling & fighting & shrieking & head burying.
***Although, using a very clever yardstick a very wise lady told me about - would I do that to a stranger's kid? I think my reaction would be the same no matter WHO kicked me in the belly. Reaction, coutner-reaction, guilt.
*4 - Ever tried to slink into a yoga class, where you have to set up your mat right next to the instructor? I hadn't before today, but oddly enough, it worked very well, as everyone was inverted when I came in, so when people finally turned themselves sunny-side up, poof there I was, mat & all.
*5 - Iyengar yoga - it may look a bit namby-pamby with all the blocks & bolsters & blankets & straps & chairs, but OMFG, wo.
*6- If you're not a database or excel person, you won't get the true horror of this. Srsly. Worse than fast, daytime-loving zombies.
*7 - Is it ironic that the most zen lesson of the day revolves around capitalism? Does Zen even do irony?