Yesterday was crazy. It certainly felt like I was finding the limits of my energy and patience.

It started off well enough. I got up early to feed the boy. He was sleepy and I didn’t wake him. I figured it was better to wake himself up to eat AND if I could get him to go to 6:30 before eating, then it might time out so that his next feeding is right before we left.

That was the first time I tried to control the events of the day.

Fed him and we hung out during one of his awake periods, which are becoming more frequent and longer in duration.

Taya got up, I cleaned the kitchen and got dinner going in the crockpot. She was holding the baby and shopping online for a rug in his room. I told her twice that I wanted to leave by 10 a.m. and be home by 4 p.m.

That was the second time I tried to control events. I had all sorts of things I wanted to do on my last day of vacation and we had to be back by evening for me to do them.

We didn’t leave until 11. Getting the boy out of the house — with all its attendant feeding, changing and gearing — always takes longer than I think it will. I allotted an hour this time. It took two.

Five minutes down the road, I felt like I was already falling asleep behind the wheel. We stopped at the market for some to-go coffee. More time. Taya spilled hers in the car. More time. More, more, more.

We got to Finn’s birthmom’s house about an hour and a half behind schedule. She is currently living with her grandmother at a senior complex. Grandma wanted to show Finn around to her friends. How could we say no?

The ladies were sweet and didn’t linger uncomfortably, but the whole time I worried about what germs they might be exposing him to. He won’t get his whooping cough vaccine for another six weeks.

We took Ashley to lunch and had a nice time with her, but it was it was already after four when we dropped her back off at home.

Then Taya reminded me that she wanted to go to this out-of-the-way house on the way back to pick up some breast milk that a woman agreed to give us.

This was the first time I realized I could not control events. Parenting seems like it could be disastrous if one insists that a baby stick to their schedule.

It was hard. We spent hours at fast food restaurants and parking lots trying to feed and change the kid in a tiny car stuffed with gear (and then overstuffed with ice and breast milk). We didn’t get home until after 10 p.m. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It’s just they way things unfolded. I’m glad I was able to let go if my need to control.

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