Lockdown

Last night was another night of sleeping baby, awake mama. Sigh.

In the early morning hours as I lay awake, my mind raced with thoughts of some emails I'd gotten before bed. Basically, my bandleader friend decided to handle all band emails in one sitting (as he usually does), copied me on said emails, and I discovered we have many offers for cross-continental and international travel this year. And I was in terror of what this means.

After agonizing over it for hours, and then talking about it with my sister, I think I've decided to tell the bandleader I am out for traveling, period. And not just this year - pretty much permanently, or as permanent as seven + years can be. I just can't leave Bumpus behind, and traveling under those conditions (being picked up by college kids in rattling cars on icy roads, no food, 6 am flights because they're the cheapest, questionable sleeping arrangements) would be an absolute nightmare with a kid of any age, much less a toddler (who could even be a nightmare at home!). Now that I really think of all the details involved - carseats, keeping toddler food warm or cold, finding someone to watch him, etc etc- I can't believe I ever thought traveling to gigs with him would even be possible. And I now know even leaving him for a weekend at six, seven, even eight - might not be doable. I went to summer camp at those ages and cried my eyes out each time. And that was to do something fun! And who, exactly, am I going to leave him with? All my friends have multiple children already, jobs, giant pit bulls, etc etc. Even if I could pay someone not to go to their weekend job and instead watch my child, they can't jeopardize their job by asking for the time off. I always knew I'd find a solution to my band travel worries - unfortunately I'm afraid it's going to mean not going, period.

So here comes the first real sacrifice of single motherhood - giving up money, accolades, and fun, plus letting other people down, to keep my child happy and safe (and spare myself a lot of misery, too, of course). It's very bitter for me. Telling my bandleader is going to be terrible; I know he's going to be crushed, might not even want to do the gigs at all (I would try to find a replacement for me). I will tell him at our gig Saturday. It's going to be awful. But would I choose the band over my kid? Nope.

This also brings up family visits. I mentioned to my sister that I am in terror of flying east for Thanksgiving this time, when B is exactly at the age that I now know (from reading your blogs!) is the WORST age for toddlers (20 months). Honestly, I think I'm going to pass. Like so many of you I think I need to just not travel, period, for a while. Or at least unless the circumstances are better - we may try to visit a cousin in Miami in the summer; this might be ok, since I can stay at a Marriott and it will be warm, etc. No icy roads to worry about.

So, my goal to see family a lot is kind of shot. For now. Of course years from now all of this will be behind us - maybe I can even do our weekend traveling gigs again assuming we still have them. But I just can't be hopping on planes for 5+ hours at a time with a one, two, three, four, or five year old. I just can't do it. I raise the white flag. We're just going to have to be on lockdown for a while.

In other news, preparing every day to have the water off all day the next day, only to have the repairs put off. Last night I showered, washed dishes, put aside a big bowl of water for washing up, made plans to be out of the house all day, only to be told not today, but tomorrow the water will be off. Sigh. Can't wait until it's all over.

Here are some pics of the drywall going in.