(written last week… with no time to post it)

Hello, it is Wednesday after a 3-day weekend and I am still not recovered. Every time our nanny has a day off, I just think… we do not pay her enough.

As I said in the title of this post, weekends with living kids are an absolute double bind. According to ChatGPT, a double bind is “a communication dilemma where an individual receives two or more conflicting messages, making it impossible to satisfy both demands at once. No matter how the person responds, they are punished, creating a no-win situation that often leads to anxiety and emotional distress.”

In this case, the “communication,” is communication from myself, to myself. AKA my thoughts.

Thought #1: 3 days is a VERY long time to spend ALONE with a child who doesn’t really play alone, doesn’t talk, doesn’t eat without help, and yet, wants to move around constantly and climb on you, and cover you in spit, barf, poop, bite marks and scratches.

Thought #2: Spending time with others means leaving the house and making plans. Plans are exhausting. Pre-planning the plans is even more exhausting. Wrangling an EXTREMELY active child in an environment I am not familiar with, and an environment that is likely not childproofed is even more exhausting.

Both of these situations definitely lead to anxiety and emotional distress.

Last weekend, I chose to carry out thought #2 and we had plans. 3 days, 3 different plans.

Day 1

Day 1 was hanging out with friends in a park. Easy, right? Wrong.

My pre-plan planning thoughts: When should we go to the park? Before the first nap at an ungodly hour in the morning? Or after the first nap, which is at an unpredictable time. Then I will need to text and keep our friends abreast of our timing, when I can never find my phone. And then, when he wakes up do I feed him before we leave? He will probably eat the pizza with us at the park, but I also don’t want to deal with a melt down on the way if he’s hungry. Also, the park is far. It requires an Uber. An Uber means a car seat. He hatesss being strapped in a car seat. I will need toys as a distraction. And a distance from home means a diaper bag. Who is going to pack the diaper bag? Me, of course. I could bring 0 snacks because we just fed him lunch AND there is going to be pizza there, but what if he is hungry? I will pack snacks. But what if he doesn’t like THOSE snacks? I will bring alternatives. If he’s going to eat, we DEFINITELY need wet wipes. And it’s hot, I should bring him water. He doesn’t usually like formula unless he’s going to nap, but what if he will nap in the car on the way home? Ok, I’ll bring formula. It’s cloudy but what if it gets sunny? I’ll bring a hat and sunscreen. And what about diapers? I need diapers and diaper paraphernalia for just-in-case blowouts and an outfit change.

All of that was before we even left for the plans.

Then we got to the plans, and I had to deal with pizza dropping on the ground and his obsession with the birds who tried to get the pizza off the ground, not to mention he himself, who was trying to pick up and then eat the pizza on the ground, which was, of course, far more appetizing than the pizza on the table. Also, the ant hills on the grass that I tried to steer his never-ending-crawling away from.

Needless to say, by the time we got home, I was 99% sure I was more tired than him. And it was only Day 1.

Day 2

Day 2 we had a wedding/50-year vow renewal for very close family friends. It was in Manhattan. That’s where we live! Easy, right? Wrong.

The wedding was at 11 am, also known as, right in the middle of nap #1. This meant no nap for A. This meant parental Olympics in the form of mama-distraction so he didn’t remember he was tired for hours. But first, mama needed to look presentable for a wedding where she would definitely see a colleague because it was at a synagogue. So, I put A in baby jail while I blow dried my hair and did my makeup, and he whined and cried at me and reached his arm out to me like he was indeed on Rikers Island, not 5 feet away from me, in a play pen full of toys.

After I got myself ready, I had to get him ready. Have you ever tried to fasten a shirt with 7 buttons on a tiger? Because that’s what it’s like putting a wedding outfit on a 10-month-old. I did one button then he somehow twisted himself onto the floor and crawled 3 feet away until I captured him in a body lock to do the next one while he screamed. Repeat 6 more times. And don’t get me started on the socks and shoes. Tying shoelaces on a child who doesn’t understand their foot movement control, or the fact that direct contact with their mother’s nose is not ideal, is a form of torture.

Once we arrived at the venue, as I mentioned, the boy could not sit still. For one full hour I tried everything I could to get him to not yell during the service. I sat down next to him, I had him sit on my lap. I gave him toys. I gave him a bottle. I stood up and held him. I brought him to the back of the sanctuary and let him crawl around while I chased him. I bounced him on my hip. I “shhhh”ed him (even though I don’t think he knows what that means). It was a Herculean feat, but he didn’t scream a single time and eventually, the service was over (it was beautiful from what I could concentrate on). Then came the brunch. Let’s just say… a lot of time was spent on the floor.

Day 3

Day 3 we technically only had one plan in the afternoon, and it was at my sister’s house. Very chill, very low key. Easy, right? Wrong.

Baby A decided to wake up at 6:45 am, so we had a longgg morning to fill. Since it was Fleet Week in NYC, I had a dream to find a group of sailors and take a photo of baby A with them. Sure, my brother is in the Navy and I could have just taken him to my brother’s work but this seemed much more NYC, much more Sex And the City. Except, like, everything that made Sex and the City, Sex and the City.

The place I knew sailors would congregate was the west side along the Hudson where all of the ships docked. We took the stroller down and sure enough, sailors were everywhere! We stared at the Intrepid for a while, lots of strangers talked to us, and then we came across a big group of sailors. I planned to just wheel baby A into the middle and take a candid, but the top-ranking guy forced them all to look at the camera. What an adventure! And we were home by 8:30. In the morning.

After morning nap, we had to get ready for the Memorial Day BBQ at my sister’s. This, of course, required all of the thought from the previous days. Diaper bag packing, snack necessity, outfit wrangling, etc. But this time, I also had to bring the small stroller that has no storage, because we were going to need to go up 10 stairs and fit in a small apartment.

We were on our way, walking, when it was clearly too warm for him. I decided to change plans and go on a bus, although I had never been on a bus with him in the stroller. Thank god for nice old ladies who helped me maneuver the handicapped seats. We finally arrived, maneuvered up the stairs, and the next set of obstacles presented themselves.

The apartment had toys, but of course he is too small to do anything but put them in his mouth, which he did thoroughly enjoy. He also crawled all over the floor where everyone was wearing their NYC shoes, and he licked the floor over and over again. Then he crawled everywhere, to the glass bowls, the very not-child-proofed kitchen area, and I was always 1 step behind him. There was another mom there with a baby 6 weeks younger, and he just sat in the carrier on her the entire time. Didn’t make a sound, didn’t fuss, perfectly content. Not my child! He was on the go, making friends with everyone, eating everything, cucumbers, hummus, brownies, you name it.

Almost everyone at the BBQ had kids, and I asked a fellow mom about it. She said, “who else is stuck in NYC on Memorial Day Weekend with no plans? The ones who it isn’t worth it to make plans and travel, the ones with kids.” True, but also, plans are TIRING!!! Baby A made it 10 blocks home until the meltdown began, and he cried the next 15 blocks straight until we made it home for a nap.

The next morning when our nanny came, she asked how our weekend was. I said, “I’m very happy to see you.”

This weekend, we have 0 plans and I could not be more excited about it.