Yesterday was a rough day. The colic was out in full force like the crazies come out for a full moon. Pretty much all day was a cry fest. Oh and in between the crying there were bouts of laughing and smiling and flirting, and projectile vomiting. Good times. It was however also a beeeeautiful day; the sun was shining and I could smell the crocuses. (crocii?). So we went out. He was actually sleeping in his stroller and I found myself standing at a bus stop, which felt like the cobblestone crossroads of life. As I looked down at his peaceful face I asked myself "Should I wait for this bus to go to the mall to try and get myself some sexy jeans...for which my time is running out since my BF comes tomorrow!? Should I risk the bus ride where he will probably wake up, scream, old hags will tell me he's hungry, I'll get frustrated, I won't be able to try anything on, and then we'll just be turning around and coming back home anyway? Basically-should I choose me or him?
The alternative was the Starbucks around the corner. It was a hard morning and an expensive liquid indulgence was calling my name.
The sun/son won. I figured the moment of quiet was worth not risking. So I quietly and slowly strolled over the cobblestone sidewalk (which I've discovered is a GREAT way to vibrate the stroller and keep him in bliss) and headed to the 'bucks. I sipped in the sun as I continued to take the long way back home. And I realized that sexy jeans just are not that important anymore. Yes- I said it. Basically, I'm not that important anymore. And I wasn't saddened by that. I pride myself on being able to do most everything I would have done before baby entered my life...but now if it makes him happy it makes me happy too. This moment and walk were good for my soul.
Then I used my security card to enter my building and the damn ridiculous "BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!" as the door clicked open woke him up, he screamed all down the hallway, into our condo, and for probably an hour or so after that.