It ain't easy being green

The grass is always greener. Maybe it is our privileged American upbringing that makes us feel that we deserve more and better as well as deal with those pangs of envy when we don't.  I admit that I have been bitten by the green-eyed monster in parenting lately and even admitting so is slightly embarrassing as everything is wonderful with my child.  But this is my blog and I feel that I can vent to it as necessary since I am sure that someone else has also felt these feelings.  
I'll start small.  I am currently surrounded by either brand new babies or folks on the cusp of delivery. The feeling from this is great, as now people can finally understand what we have been going through the past 9 months! All of those fumbles and tribulations can translate into hopefully helpful tidbits for others braving those first few months.  Yet, I am a bit envious of their status.  Let me correct myself, I am NOT envious of the sleepless nights and zombie days, the lack of control over my own body, and the panic stricken doubts of "Am I doing the right thing?" No way. It has more to do with the emotions that encompass your body as you learn about your baby. Nearly everyone that we saw those first weeks said these newborn days pass quickly and to enjoy them, and at that point I wanted to hand my son over to them gladly so they could relive them while I got more than 2 hours of consecutive sleep.  Alas, they were right.  I do miss those floppy days where he was perfectly content to lay on our chests and sleep after eating.  Now I am lucky to get him to sit still so we can squeeze a burp out.  Those feelings of excitement as your baby is finally here and you try to learn every inch of them.  Now there is no learning body parts, we have to practically restrain him whilst giving him a bath, leaving me hopeful that I at least got the important parts wet enough to call them clean. You may read this and say that I am being petty, but I am sure that no matter what age your children are, being in the presence of a new family brings up the whimsical side of you. Even in this nonemotioned momma here.  
Now for the bigger patch of green on the other side of my fence.  The world is full of stereotypical roles that each of us may or may not fall in. I am now entering the role of 'mommy' in which I had envisioned myself as being able to stay on top of each item on my housewife to-do list and being the absolute apple of my son's eye.  Enter my husband and his role; 'daddy'.  My husband is a one of kind father.  When you see someone with their child and think how that person was just made to be a parent, you will think of him. He will change a scary nasty exploded diaper (cloth at that!), he will get up with me when the baby wakes at night so I am not the only one up, will take the baby for an hour so I can get some things done, and most of all he LOVES spending time  with his son. What could I possibly have to complain about here?! Nothing, except my asshole jealous side that crops up when I see my son laugh for his daddy.  Sure mommy can make him laugh, but not so hard he snorts.  I play with him in my own way and sing songs, but in comes daddy and steals the limelight with his dramatic silliness and eagerness to roll around on a dog hair encrusted floor that mommy has missed on her housewife duties.  Sometimes I feel that I have now gained not one, but two children. What is the problem here???  The answer came to me when I was attempting to calm the child down for a nap after a rowdy romp with daddy, without much luck.  The book was about a child getting ready for bed and all the things that were going on around the house while he was sleeping.  And I loosely quote, mommy is in bed after tucking us all in and will arise with the dawn with a great big yawn.  Hmm what about daddy?  The child goes on how he giggles when he hears daddy snore and cannot wait to wake so they can laugh and play some more.  AH-HA! There it was staring me in the face plain as day. Somehow mommy is synonymous to doing all of the child-rearing work and daddy is the super fun guy that swoops in and gets the child all riled up gives the baby back to mommy so that she can try to calm them down to sleep. I know that there are not any handbooks that are emailed to you when you give birth, but somewhere along the way I had thought that I would be the fun one since I was going to be with him all the time.  Until all the business of raising a baby came to light. There are schedules to maintain so that meltdowns are avoided, food prepared in perfect non-choking portions, laundry that is done as certain parts of the day so that a cherished blanket is ready for bedtime, and meticulous bathing and lotioningplaytimes with the baby.  Coming full circle to my point about missing the newborn days, I realized that these baby days are getting away from me and soon my son will want me to drop him off at a friend's house rather than roll around on the floor with me.  I am taking some time away from the hectic home life to just enjoy my son, and I have to say that each moment helps bring me back to my regular shade of light tan.