Wednesday, February 1, 2012
I'm sorry that you are getting formula a couple of times a week when I was too busy or too dehydrated to pump enough milk for you the day before. I'm sorry for my attitude about pumping some days. When I want to throw it out the window and give up in a exhausted, annoyed huff.
I'm sorry that I routinely forget to put Vitamin D drops into your bottles as instructed. I'm sorry that sometimes your snot really needs to be sucked but I don't do it because I hate when you cry. I'm sorry that sometimes we've gone a week and a half without a bath.
I'm sorry that although you have some super cute clothes I usually put you in sweatpants and a long-sleeved onesie. I'm sorry that I don't always wash your new clothes before I put them against your precious baby skin.
I'm sorry that you lay on a blanket on our wood floors that are only vacuumed once a week at best and washed once every two months. I'm sorry that we often use your nursery for the land of unfolded laundry. I'm sorry I never gave you the skills to sleep in your own crib. And for the chaotic transition that is sure to come.
I'm sorry that I am drinking coffee to stay awake despite the fact it also goes directly into your little body.
I'm sorry I send you to daycare where I can't protect you from another kid throwing something at your head. Or you getting a sniffly, feverish cold. I'm sorry that even though we can afford for me to stay home, we've chosen debt payoff and graduate degrees instead.
And just so I am covered, I'm sorry that you can't be a soldier, professional football player, construction worker, high-rise window washer, police officer, fire fighter, truck driver, power line repair man, coal miner or pilot.
You might have a caffeine-wired brain that is not always covered with a warm hat, but you're certainly loved to pieces!