the schizophrenia of being a mother

I've been watching my behavior over the last several weeks and I've decided that I'm a walking contradiction.  On the one hand I'm obsessed with keeping the floors clean to the point where we've hired a service to come clean the house every other week (in addition to us vacuuming about every four days on our own). On the other hand, I'm somewhat okay with the box of random stuff to be sold/donated/tossed that has been sitting in our downstairs bathroom for a couple of months. Then there's the dog situation. On the one hand I absolutely cannot stand her hair getting all over my baby's clothes, hands and face when he crawls on top of her or attempts to chew/bite/suck/kiss her fur (it's so gross). But I'm perfectly at ease when he started chewing on her dog toys. I also found it cute and funny when the two of them took turns licking the graham cracker Asa was supposed to be eating as part of his dinner but I find it disgusting when the dog directly licks his face, ears, hands, etc.

So I think it's fair to say that when it comes to dirt, grime, fur and inter-species spit-swapping, I'm a bit schizo. Then there is daycare ...

Ahh, the daycare drop-off/pick-up: the greatest and worst part of my day.  Asa and I do the daycare maneuver four days a week. After the initial shock of the first week wore off (back when he was about 3 months old and I would sob uncontrollably after dropping him off), we found a very happy groove where I almost never felt bad leaving him at daycare so I could go to work. And then, about a month ago he started "crying" when I would go to leave. No actual tears, just a sad look of shock and dismay that would spread across his little face and break my big, soft heart. Now I find myself torn between lingering longer and longer to watch him play and wanting to rush out the door as quickly as possible because I know it's all a tease and that I really can't stay with him all day, everyday even if I wanted to. But that's not the schizophrenic part of my story.

What's so crazy is that a very big part of me wants to spend every single moment with him all day, everyday, 24 x 7 to the point where I sometimes wish he'd wake up at 9pm to just hang out with us until we go to bed at 10. And then there's an equally big part that prays he stays asleep until 7am so we can get a good nights rest and for once not have to wake up at 6am on a Sunday morning. And there's the part of me that sometimes dreads picking him up from daycare because I'm so exhausted I'd rather just nap in the car alone. And the part of me that can't wait to pick him up from daycare because I know seeing him will be the brightest part of my day since I gave him his last cuddle before going into daycare. Do you see where I'm headed with this?

To recap, the bottom line is, daycare is wonderful and Asa and I are both better people because of it but guilt is powerful and I can tell you Asa never had to make that sad little face at me to trigger the guilt, it was already there. I'm pretty sure it showed up around the day he was born and will stick around forever just to be sure I toe the line and keep my priorities straight. And dirt, well, dirt isn't going anywhere. Neither is Midnight: love the dog, deal with the fur ... And in the meantime I'll just have to come to terms with being a total schizo on the inside and try my best to project a calm exterior.

As an addendum I'd like to share this 15 second clip from Baby Momma, which I totally relate to now that I have a baby: