So, my not so secret obsession is Dancing with the Stars on ABC. I didn’t catch on to this bizarre show with a train wreck like allure until the second season. It absolutely fascinates me that people with absolutely no experience with, and in some cases, no business doing, formal ballroom dancing will go on the show. This season Adam Carolla was one of those people. I don’t know what inspired him to go on, and he did manage to last longer than some – Penn Gillette and Steve Gutenberg to name two. But this week was his week to be eliminated. But if you have to be eliminated on live television in front of millions of viewers, at least it was a week where you were dressed like Zorro and rode a unicycle while doing the Paso Doble. You ROCK.
I particularly liked what he said at the end of the show after he had been eliminated – Not everyone gets to be on Dancing with the Stars, but everyone has that thing that terrifies them. And everyone should try at least once to do that thing that scares the bejesus out of them. You won’t regret it.
I agree. Having a child was terrifying for me. It has been a series of terrifying moments actually. The moment I saw the two lines on the pregnancy test was the first. I am fairly sure the bathroom shifted around me. Then came the moment to tell The Bob, aka my husband. Then came telling my parents, my boss, my friends and coworkers, all of whom knew that this was NOT how I had planned things would go. Having kids was not on what minimal agenda for my life I had. Then came shopping for baby. I was so overwhelmed the first time I went to register at BabiesRus I walked right back out again for fear of being found huddled in a pack and play rocking and moaning.
And is it wrong to wish that they would make adult sized baby swings? The cushy lining, the reclining seat, the motorized rocking…it is all good.
Then came the morning I was spotting and cramping, 2 full months before his due date. The trip to the doctor, the news they were admitting me, and possibly putting me on bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy. And the doctor waking me up at midnight to say my labs came back and I was not improving but getting worse so they had decided to deliver me now. Fortunately the Bob had taken his phone to bed with him. Then there was Cooper in the special care nursery for 18 days, looking sooooo tiny and yet getting stronger every day. Super scary was the fact my blood pressure never went back to normal and I ended up staying in the hospital a full week after he was born so they could watch me. Now I am on medication for the rest of my life, but at least I am here.
And each day it is better, it isn’t so scary, but there are new things to worry about that crop up. Like potty training. I have house trained dogs, but that is VERY different. I think. Maybe it isn’t. I can’t use the crating method on Cooper, but taking him to the potty every two hours to see if he has to go and reinforce that is where you go might work. Ugh. And school. I mean REAL school. The kind where there are big kids who pick on little kids, and lockers and cafeterias with awful food. Whimper. I really liked learning, but I hated school sometimes.
But I have to stop projecting my old baggage onto what is a totally new and full of potential life for Cooper. And help him realize that every day he might find something scary in front of him, but that if he can face it and deal with it, even if he ends up not totally succeeding, at least dress like Zorro and ride a unicycle – do it in style.