I have been solo-parenting for almost a week now.
And that's because our cat, Appa, bit Jan on his left leg. While Jan thinks the biting was an accident, I think otherwise. That cat has been plotting to kill me since day one but was miserably unsuccessful so it decided to take it on the husband who has a softer spot for animals than I do.
Every day I wake up feeling like those Instagram moms who seem to have figured out motherhood only to become borderline psychotic when faced with Rhett's homework.
Of all the evil that's happening in the world, Math is probably the worst. I have been stumped multiple times by elementary Math since Rhett started his online classes six weeks ago. Apparently, I am a moron when it comes to basic Math (read: I pull out a calculator to equations like 5+3).
My face every time I deal with Math problems. |
I never thought I would come face to face with the devil again. I hate that I even have to stop any loathsome chore just to solve a problem you can't even apply in the real world. There is a reason why they are called problems. They are meant to cause a civil war between a parent and a child. We should have just left Math uninvented.
Anyway, I usually spend about an hour relearning and teaching Rhett how to answer his worksheets. Imagine my delight at going through this on a regular basis without the carnage.
Damn. I should congratulate my awesomeness with sushi bake and milktea.
All this time I thought I am prepared for this. But I must have pushed that button resetting all the things I already learned about newborn care.
I find myself Googling about things I was certain I knew before. Cord stump care, what a normal poop should look like, how much can a newborn consume, and so much more. Those seemingly ridiculous questions such as why babies pout their lips or why they make funny noises or how much milk tea can a breastfeeding momma consume also fill my search history. Thankfully, Google wouldn't mind the hundred and one weird questions I throw and doesn't judge my parenting skills based on what I search for.
It wasn't periodic nor regular. It only happened once. It wasn't heavy, not even enough to soak a pad. But it was enough to freak the hell out of us. Jan drove me to the emergency room immediately and while on our way, I was frantically all over the internet in search for immediate answers. Of course, it didn't help. If anything, it freaked me out even more.
This quarantine has gotten me hungrier and lazier by the hour. Definitely not the pregnancy journey I had in mind. Two months ago, I established a regular walking routine that I planned to continue until 34 weeks. But obviously, that's not going to happen.
I also try my best to eat as healthy as possible. But when people panic buy and hoard food, choices become too limited. But I am not complaining. I am grateful that despite this global crisis, there's still food on our table. I just hope we wake up from this nightmare soon.