I should know better by now. I should know that if I get excited and worked up about something, I can kinda make it a teensy bit bigger in my brain than it actually is (when I say teensy, I mean I get ridiculous). And the crazy thing is, I build all kinds of expectations around things that should be everyday occurrences. When my brain is finished processing them and getting stoked for them, it’s a semi-epic scene from a movie, the kind where everyone lives happily ever after.
So this “scene” opens on last night. I climbed in bed and scrolled through my Facebook newsfeed for a couple minutes (Please don’t insert your judgements here about me reading the phone before bed-I only do it a couple minutes while I’m waiting for the hubs to brush his teeth. Calm down!), and I see an alert that a new bakery I had been looking forward to opening is opening their doors tomorrow morning. WOOHOO! I had been looking forward to this for a while, so I immediately planned on gathering a couple ladies with babies and heading down there for a sweet-treat brunch date. I went to sleep with visions of croissants, sourdough, and local coffee dancing in my head.
This morning I woke, gathered myself and Miss Mabel together, and headed down the road. Upon arrival I realized the place wasn’t as crowded as I thought it would be . . . because there was no seating. I hadn’t realized that this was a drop in, grab goodies and go type of place, and I was ill-equipped. No stroller. No baby carrier. I couldn’t get a hold of my friend I was meeting to alert her, so I ordered a fresh pecan cinnamon bun and a decaf coffee to go. Let me tell you, when one thing goes wrong, it’s easy for your brain to go haywire and notice every little thing that isn’t what you expected. Like when the sweet woman puts more icing that you prefer on your bun. Like when it’s not as sunny as you thought, and the wind is whipping your hair every which way and treating to blow your treat off the car as you try to strap your baby in. I ignore these thoughts and return to the car, heading to my next errand early. Ok, so maybe I wasn’t going to have a picturesque brunch, but that’s ok.
I get to my next stop, the library, to make copies of a print I was putting in my house, and it’s closed for another 15 minutes. I chat with a couple ladies, biding my time, until the doors open. I sit, log in, and start downloading the prints I was getting. At this point Mabel started to let me know that she wasn’t a fan of being quiet or still in the library, so I stand in front of the computer and bounce her while it downloads. Six minutes later, the download doesn’t work and needs to be restarted. Restart, wait, and it still won’t open. I give up and head home, already feeling bad that I’d kept Mabel out when she should’ve been napping. Mabel falls asleep in the car (whichever happens and is awesome!), clutching her giraffe. I get home, she wakes up, I gently transfer her to the carrier, and she falls back asleep in a few minutes (with some help from some bouncing). In the quiet, I sneak my cinnamon bun onto a plate (with some boiled eggs because hello protein!), get my now lukewarm coffee, and sigh.
I had expected a different morning. I had expected sitting, chatting, and laughing with a friend as we tucked into delicious pastry. I had imagined getting errands done efficiently, rather than waiting around then not actually getting anything accomplished. But all this makes me wonder, should we never hope for anything and therefore never be disappointed? I don’t think so. I would rather hope in something and be disappointed than never hope for anything at all. Granted, I could probably tone it down a bit in the building up expectations department, but I think the problem comes when we put ALL our hope into these big expectations that we have built up. It’s not that we can’t hope for something grand, but being sure not to become a wreck when that falls through or doesn’t go the way we planned. Especially with a baby, things very rarely go as you think they will, and I am learning this everyday. A big dinner that you prepare ends up being a night of a cranky baby and lots of rocking and taking shifts eating. Getting out of the house to spontaneously hang out with friends means getting out late because there is a blowout all over yourself and babe. And sometimes it’s a brunch that doesn’t happen.
It’s all ok. Better than ok.
And here’s a couple from yesterday. We did an awesome two hour hike with some other mamas in town, and had a blast! Love exploring this amazing town.