4 More Days

I only have 4 more days with my baby before everything changes. Before we head to FL to see my family and pick up my little sister. Before we spend some time getting her used to caring for Baby G. Before I go back to work.

I know that I have 4 weeks left. I know that. But only 4 days of that are just mine. I don’t have to share him, or leave him, or let him go.

I’m scared. I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I can get in my car that morning and drive away from him. I know I sound dramatic. I know women everywhere have to work and leave their sweet babies with someone else. I know they survive. But this is my first baby. I’ve been with him every day for almost 5 months.

Why does it feel so bad? He’ll still be my baby. He’ll still be there when I get home. But I’ll miss out on so much. Will I be there for his first word? When he starts to crawl? His first step? I’m going to miss him so much everyday.

So these 4 day I’m going to hold him a little longer and play with him a little more. I still have to pack and do some cleaning before we leave, but if I have to wait until he’s in bed at night to do that then I will. Because I don’t want to regret anything. I don’t want to regret not picking him up. And I don’t want to regret folding that extra load of laundry. And I know I’m still going to have time with him. I know that after my 4 days I’ll still have over 3 weeks left. But it doesn’t feel that way. Right now it feels like these 4 days are the only thing I have left.

There’s nothing to fear but fear itself. And spiders.

I wrote this post a year ago but never published it for some reason. This was in the other house and gives a nice understanding of my deep aversion to arachnids. 

I almost didn’t make it to work today. I was all ready to walk out of the house; I even was leaving a few minutes early. But as I was heading to the door I noticed a  big hairy spider on the window of my front door. Now, I am terrified of spiders. So terrified that I contemplated calling work and telling them I would be in after my husband got home and killed the spider. But I decided that I was a big girl and could take care of the horrifying creature myself.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking “Silly, they are more scared of you than you are of them.” People say this to me all the time. But no… no, that’s not true. I am much more terrified of them.

Because of the molding on the window at the top of my door, I didn’t think hitting it with a shoe would work. Also, if I missed, then it might fall into my house and I’d have to move. Going outside and closing the door was not an option because I would not have been able to get back in while it stayed on the door. So I went to find some spider spray. Now, I despise spiders so very much that I don’t even like to look at the spider spray can.  The silhouette of the dead spider on the front has the ability to fully creep me out even if there isn’t a live one anywhere around. But I persevered. I decided to roll back the rug in front of the door just in case the creature should fall into the house when I sprayed it. I wish you could have seen this, I really do. I open the door a crack and, as fast as possible, squirt the spider and slam the door. Now I have a problem. The spider has fallen but I don’t know where. Great. So I open the door again and see the spider mid-door. I spray it again and slam the door as it falls. Poop. Now what. If it’s on the threshold it could run in when I open the door again. If it’s on the mat in front of the door I won’t be able to see it as the mat is also black. I do need to make sure you know that at this point I’m hyped up on adrenaline and my hands are shaking. So I open the door again and check the threshold and mat. Nothing. So I peek out a little farther and see the spider on the porch trying to crawl up the siding. I used enough of the can to turn it white but it still didn’t feel the need to die. So I took a deep breath and tried to step on it. With my shoe. The one I was wearing. I don’t think I even got close before I squealed and jumped back a few feet. Realizing that wasn’t going to work I ran inside and got a bigger shoe and (squealing the whole time) flailed the shoe at the spider until I got close enough to smash it. This all took about 6 minutes. At this point, I was ready to come back inside and go back to bed. If nothing else, I deserved a brownie for my harrowing experience. I didn’t get one, but I deserved one.