Day 197: The One Where I Panic
Yesterday, amongst all the exhaustion I was dealing with, my brain decided to go into panic mode. Here is how it went down…I will try my best to recap the thoughts ping ponging around in my head…
Abby why won’t you eat your bottle…this living room is a mess…Abby please eat your bottle…(looks at can of formula)…Man I wonder how much of that expensive formula goes down the drain b/c Abby won’t eat her bottle…I have such a finicky eater…Man the kitchen is a mess…That formula is expensive…I spent way too much money of things that weren’t a necessity for Abby…Abby please for the love of God eat your bottle…I have to go grocery shopping…There is nothing good to eat…I will eat this crap frozen thing…(eats crap frozen thing)…Man that was gross…I think I’m going to vomit…Abby want to try your bottle again…Why the hell did I eat that…Man this house is a mess…OK Abby play, I don’t care if you don’t eat…Really I do care…PLEASE EAT...
This is the point where I knew the attack was coming on. I’ve gotten good about being able to feel the uprising of my soul. The last time this happened was when I was like three weeks back into work and it was a Sunday and I had too much running through my head, freaking out that none of it was going to get done. Then, I handed Abby to the hubs, walked outside, and deeply breathed in some air for a good five minutes. This time, though, I had nobody to hand her off too. And it’s not like I can plop her on the carpet for her to play solo as she is freaking mobile and into everything and anything. (My shoes are her favorite…The shoes now have a new home…The coat closet.)
When I feel this out of control, the only thing I know to do to get back into control is to organize. I put Abigail into her high chair in the kitchen and told her I needed to clean. She’s pretty content in there, watching me move around. I talk to her and she’s fine. She flails her arms around and squeals in delight and she is fine.
The kitchen was top priority b/c said grocery shopping was about to commence once I pulled it together and I knew that if the kitchen was not organized, the panic would return once I came home if said mess still existed.
Empty dishwasher…Why won’t she eat today…OK she has eaten a bit, but just not much…Clean dishes…Load dishwasher…Clean bottles….Wait, I should just take a bottle with us for the store…Take out garbage…Prep bottle…Wait I need to get the diaper bag together ….(walks into living room to retrieve diaper bag)…Man this place is a mess….Finishes up with kitchen…Diaper bag set to go…(wheels Abby in the high chair to overlook the living room…must organize the living room)…Why the hell am I putting all her toys away…It’s only the afternoon…This needs to go upstairs…This is laundry…Oh crap here’s an empty glass from yesterday…We have way too many toys for Abby…I spend way too much money on Abby…Remote controls must be lined up (I’m nuts right now)….Crap, look at all that dust…I hate dusting…OK…kitchen and living room organized…Abby still won’t eat her bottle…We’re out of here…
We got all packed in the car and were off for the grocery store. I rolled the windows down, and that coupled with the fact that I organized, my panic had subsided.
Man, anxiety is a bitch. I’m so glad it doesn’t happen more often. I’m so glad I can talk myself down. But man, I want to throat punch anxiety sometimes.
3 Comments to “Day 197: The One Where I Panic”
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You are my soul sister. I feel like that is the exact same thing that is going on in my head. Teva is a pretty finicky eater too….she’s only 9th percentile for weight. And now she’s a busy body so she’s almost too busy to eat!!!
Hang in there Metta!!!
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