Ella is heading on her first-ever field trip. My sweet, precious baby girl will board a bus, take a seat and be transported to Wonderscope with her friends and other kids from the center. When I picked her up today, the permission sheet was waiting for me in her mailbox. It outlined the cost and the fact she will need a sack lunch (that alone confounds me -- what do I pack for Ella that will keep all morning?) I can't believe at the young age of two-years-old that it is time for her first adventure away from the classroom.
I believe she is ready and the staff is more than capable. My concern is the timing. It's scheduled for Monday, April 7th. Her teacher indicated that they need parent volunteers to come along. I would love to witness and participate in the outing, but I'm fairly confident that I'll have a newborn by then and shoved head first into the world of sleep deprivation. Maybe Mike will be able to go? It all depends on when baby boy enters this world. Perhaps the timing is perfect as it will serve as a nice distraction from her world being turned upside down. Regardless, I really don't want her to miss this.
Somehow on the drive home, I went from disbelief regarding this field trip to a complete and utter panic attack. Nothing specific happened. No contraction took my breath away, but once the garage door shut, my emotions instantly shifted. I was stressed and overwhelmed with how unprepared we are. We have tackled quite a bit, but as I walk through the house, I begin to outline a laundry list of things I want to tackle before baby boy comes. I realize everything won't get done, but it doesn't stop me from wanting it done.
Mike walked in and I instantly apologized and said, "I'm on edge. I'm not mad at you, but I'm totally panicking." He, being the wonderful and calm presence in our house, didn't patronize or belittle me. He just said, "I know. It's okay." On top of my panic attack, I started to completely stress eat. I found myself pondering new concrete combinations at Sheridan's and fighting a desire to tear through all of Ella's Easter candy. Can we say stress eater! For a solid 10 minutes, I was paralyzed and could only sit in the nursery rocking and writing a mental list of tasks still to be tackled. I finally convinced myself with Mike's loving prodding to just tackle something, anything. It helped. I started with reviewing what was already packed in the hospital bag and then adding to the list of items we will need to throw in at the last minute. We've made more progress this evening on my extensive mental list and I sincerely hope we have this weekend. Time, time, time is what I need. Mike is racing around the house knocking things off the list. I still have some energy this evening. I better go join him.