Not So Fast

If there's one thing I've learned as a new mother it's not to get too cocky.  


Just when you think you've got it all figured out -- the 7 p.m. bedtime, the 2 a.m. diaper change, the 4-hour car ride -- the parenting gods come and poop all over your parade just to remind you that you're human and not infallible. 
I've learned this the hard way, despite multiple warnings from both my father and a good girlfriend who cautioned against getting the least bit confident or comfortable.  
After a brief taste of what it's like to get a good night's rest, I made the mistake of pronouncing my daughter a "great sleeper" as if she'd been training as a gymnast her entire life and had made it to the Olympics. 
That night she was up every two hours like in the early weeks post-partem. 






Parenting gods 1, new mommy 0.


When I took Mackenzie to work to tell my bosses that I wouldn't be returning as a full-time employee so I could spend my days being a stay-at-home mom to this perfect baby, I couldn't have been more ecstatic to walk around showing off my little girl.  I was full of pride until she had a complete and utter meltdown and I found myself repeating the phrase, "she never does this" until I was blue in the face and she was bright red with a rage so violent the Sopranos would've been jealous.


Parenting gods 2, new mommy 0. 

Last week we were brave enough to take Mackenzie to family day at the ballpark, where our colleagues were gathering to spend a few hours socializing and clearing their heads of work responsibilities. 
This was my chance to redeem myself, to demonstrate that I didn't indeed have a crazy mafioso child.  
But while she made it all the way to the 7th Inning Stretch, we still couldn't escape the wrath of the parenting gods. 
After two bottles of milk (haven't quite grasped the nursing in public yet, even though I have the necessary "hooter hider") and several burps that would put a veteran truck driver to shame, Mackenzie managed to barf all over her clothes, my clothes, the Baby Bjorn, the stadium seat, and the ground.  The adoring crowd that had gathered around us to "ooh" and "ahh" dispersed almost too quickly as we were left trying to make the most of the three burp cloths I had stashed in the diaper bag.


Parenting gods 3, new mommy 0.  


I'd say that I'm looking forward to a rematch, but my ego will need some recuperating before that happens.