Touche'

Last night as I was ironing and deep in thought, Scott made the unsuspecting mistake of walking into the room. Before he knew what hit him, my mouth was wide open and words were pouring out. So while I babbled, he stood there patiently...arms folded.

The conversation went something like this, but for the sake of my blog space and your time, I performed an extreme edit makeover on my comments. Delete, delete, delete some more. Scott's comments needed no editing as he is a man of few words.

Me: I think I would enjoy being a mom more if I didn't always feel so guilty about things. Like if I take Matthew someplace that isn't fun, I feel bad that he not only had to sit in his carseat but then that he didn't have that time to play. I know that millions of kids have to ride in the car every day and go places they don't like, but it just makes me feel bad.

Scott: Silence

Me: Do you think I'm weird?

Scott: Babes, there are way more weirder people in the world than you.

Me: And like I would love to take him on more walks, but I feel bad because I don't even know if he enjoys going on walks. He's just strapped in his stroller and isn't playing or practicing walking. And I would love the exercise, but I don't know...I can't even really talk to him while we're on a walk unless I walk right next to his stroller which is difficult...

Scott: He's a dude. He doesn't need you to talk to him all the time.

Me: But do you see what I mean? I just feel guilty all the time. And so if I take him some place not fun, then I feel like we can only go one place and then rush home to let him play. And then once home I feel like I should play with him the whole time but that means I don't get anything else done. ACK...do you see what I'm talking about? I don't know what my problem is.

Scott: Babes, you're a first time mama.

Touche'.