Just Because I ACTED Crazy Doesn't Mean I AM Crazy

There were a few days when I was an obsessing, neurotic, control freak of a mother. I worried about everything. I worried if my baby was eating enough, I worried if he was sick, I worried if he hadn’t gone to the bathroom enough. I worried and worried and worried. I was tense. I was crazy. I had become the mother that people love to hate.
I read books, lots and lots of books, I Googled everything, I kept logs of sleep routines. I listened to everyone else. I fell in the Mommy Trap. The comparing of how other mothers do things or what their baby the same age is doing that mine is or isn’t doing. I fell hard and fast.
Andy silently watched and listened to me for three days. After three days he couldn’t take it anymore. He looked at me and said “Look man, Carson wakes once sometimes twice a night, he never fusses, he usually smiles, most people would kill for that. What is the problem?” I looked at him and the light bulb went off, the tension poured from my body. By God, he was right! Carson was normal, it was me who was not.
I don’t know why but for some reason as soon as Carson turned 3 months old, I thought I had to turn on the super parenting skills. The nurses in the hospital, the baby classes we went to all give the advice that you don’t have to worry about this or that until a baby is at least 3 months old. “You should always pick him up when he cries, babies this young can’t manipulate you with tears, you should feed on demand for at least the first 3 months, just listen to your baby, you can’t put a baby on a schedule until their at least 3 months, on and on and on.” So I had it in my head that after 3 months I had to change things. As it turns out all of these things were naturally evolving anyway, I was doing just what I should be doing, I just needed someone to slap me silly and bring me back from Crazy Town. Its good to be back.