By: Allison Norris

All dolled up and ready to go, I met my “fill in” babysitter at the door. She had never watched Bay before, so I was nervous. She was going to be the one putting him to bed and I was just sure that he was going to scream the entire time… not that he ever has before, but you just start to imagine everything horrible that could go wrong.

She read all of my 3 pages of written instructions and assured me that they would be fine. Believing her, I decided that we could leave.

Baby Daddy (BD) bought us tickets to one of my favorite shows, Vicci Martinez, at the Triple Door downtown. I let him open my station wagon car door for me and even let him drive. We pulled up to the valet and BD let me know that he’d rather do valet than have to walk, no matter what. Liking this statement in my three inch heels, I wobbled my way inside the venue.

Waiting at the hostess desk, the woman in front of us was spelling her last name over and over, louder and louder,

“C-H-R-I-S-T-E-N-S-E-N” as if the hostess would magically find their reservation easier.

“Ma’am, what show are you here to see?”

The woman looked at her with a blank face, “uh, shoot. It’s the 16th tonight, isn’t it. Our show is on the 23rd. I am just remembering.” She let out an embarrassed laugh and turned around.

Our turn, finally. “Hi, reservation under Norris…” Her fingers punched away on the keyboard.

“What was that last name, one more time?”

“N-O-R-R-I-S”

Just then BD stepped forward with an important question, “Who is playing tonight?”

“It’s Joseph Arthur, sir.”

Not so much Vicci Martinez.

Just then a heat wave covered my skin and a sinking feeling consumed my gut. How did we mess this up? I was the one who got the babysitter, so I guess it’s my fault for just assuming it was on a Saturday night? Defeated, we left and went somewhere else for dinner.

I had asked my regular babysitter to watch Bay while we were at the concert in an email and wrote down “Sunday, Jan 16th”… which, of course, the the 16th was on a Saturday. Confused, she just never responded and asked me in person which date and day I had actually meant. Not double checking, I just PICKED a day and went with it.

I saw my regular babysitter a couple of days later.

“Lindsey,” I ask, seriously.

“Yes…” she chirps back. I swear she sings when she talks or is a Disney character or something – I just adore her.

“You have another task to add to the list – other than making sure my laundry is put away…”

She looks at me concerned, wondering if her $12 an hour is going to seem smaller because of a new task.

“I need you to keep me sane, ok? If I start sounding crazy, please tell me. Please?”

What is she supposed to say to that… is she supposed to tell me that I sound nuts most of the time?

“Haha… ok, Allison.” She sounds timid and changes the subject.

By: Allison Norris

I am sitting on the couch ready to go to bed, but the thought of actually getting up, brushing my teeth, washing my face and putting in my night guard keeps me sitting here. My leggings are cinched at the ankles making them really (cute) hard to get off, too. And where is my tank top with the built-in breast pads? I think it’s dirty. Crap. I’ll have to rig something up to absorb my leakage that oftentimes leaves me soaked in the wee hours of the morning. I’d rather doze on the couch for a bit while a completely mind numbing program is blaring in the background instead of getting up to get the rest that I complain about not having every day. This sort of craziness is easily justified while seriously sleep deprived.

I had my friend over last night and had nothing to talk about… or contribute, rather. She is dating a new guy and had that twinkle in her eye… that feeling that he could call at any minute and that they could talk about nothing, but it would be amazing. He’s met a few of her friends, and he’s told her that he likes her and although they haven’t had any talks about exclusivity, they are definitely seeing each other quite a bit! This friend of mine hasn’t had a boyfriend in almost a year and has sort of floated around keeping her options open. Every night is a possibility for Mr. Right! I listened to her last night and found myself envious of her butterflies. I remembered the mornings that you shave your legs in the shower because you know you’ll be seeing him later. Now I’m lucky if I shave my legs once a month. And who cares if I shave them at all? Baylor? Nah… he likes me just the way that I am.

I woke up this morning sort of yearning for that excitement. And then I talked to Jen. My best buddy was dating a guy for about a month until she realized that he wasn’t for her and she let him swim off into that big pond… or sea… or whatever. Of course, she is the crazy one and he tells me so in a facebook message. That’s right, he wrote me a message, here in Seattle, about why Jen dumped him. I’ve never met the guy! He said that he was worried about her. Worried that she may not know that not everyone is perfect and that one day, she will realize that even the man that she deems worthy of her time may actually have a flaw, but to not let that flaw ruin her life because he could be the man of her dreams! OH! Thanks for the enlightening bud. Where is your crystal ball? So nice of him to make sure she knew that she will never be completely happy. So settle? So thoughtful.

I was shopping today when I ran into a friend who is having trouble with her boyfriend. Her boyfriend seems to have a wandering eye… or thumbs, as he has been a sexter texter with other ladies, and we aren’t sure what else. She caught him, confronted him, and is giving him another chance. I think my favorite part was when he asked her “ok, so I messed up. What do I need to do now to get us back to where we were?” It was as though there were an equation or a planned process that they needed to follow and POOF they would be back to where they were – happy. Everything forgiven, but not forgotten. It’s just not that easy.

Back to being sleep deprived and missing butterflies… it’s not so bad. Right when I start to wonder if I can survive another day of poop and puke, I am reminded that I’ve got it made. No weirdos with a hypothesized vision of my love life and no sexters with a need to have a harem of women in their inbox. I have a perfect man who laughs at everything that I say and never wants to leave my side! I guess it’s my job to develop my little man into a grown man who is emotionally stable, successful, handsome, polite, honest, funny, kind, loyal and faithful…. and on and on.

Should be a piece of cake… I am his mom, aren’t I?

And now it’s time for bed.

By: Allison Norris

Fervently sucking on his orange pacifier, his eyes begin to roll back, further and further until he is no longer stimulated by dangling toys and is fast asleep. Dreaming about how much his mom loves him and brown silver dollars that produce his favorite food, his tiny finger twitches and he is human.

A small body with little control, perfectly shaped and gentle. How innocent and special he is.

Each breath he takes reminds me that I am the luckiest mother on the planet and that there is nowhere else I would rather be. His gummy smile and squinted eyes make me feel like my heart is actually expanding in my chest and before long, I will be one huge heart walking around pulsing, quite possibly grossing people out.

One arm straight up and the other placed above his fragile skull, he is relaxed and I can examine his tiny fingernails and imagine what story each deep line on his palm will tell.

He jerks awake and lets out a cry. My face is the first thing he sees and he is soothed with a soft shhh-ing. His exploring hand feels around my face until he finds his spot, curled into my neck where it is warm and safe. His eyes close again and I know I have five more minutes of watching him calmly rest.

By: Allison Norris

I threw on my lululemon gear, of course, and a black head band to hold back my unruly bang grow out, and headed downtown for the dentist. My appointment was at 9am, so I was rushing to make it on time knowing that black pencil skirts and tucked in dress shirts would be also making their way downtown… for work.

I parked in my usual place and entered the bustling sidewalk to walk the two blocks to my dental high rise. I was trying to pull off the “sporty” look, like I had actually just gone for a quick jog or a yoga class before heading into work for the day. I actually was just too tired to take a shower and put on real clothes. In front of me was this gorgeous young woman in a perfectly fitting pair of slacks with a crisp white collared shirt and Manolo pumps that looked like they were killing her feet, but nobody would ever know it. Her shiny black hair cascaded down her back, ending in a precise straight line. Hate her. She was reaching into her bag for her phone as she turned the corner into the same building that I was entering only four steps behind. Huge rock on her finger… of course. She definitely hadn’t had babies yet… nobody has a waist that small after the miracle of hip movement to grow a basketball in your gut.

Off the phone, she hit the elevator button and then I caught a glimpse of her profile. ELIZABETH! Oh no. It’s Elizabeth. Not “Liz”, but “Elizabeth”. Like the Queen. The most put together, stunning human being I know. Also the one that makes you feel like you have something black in your teeth and she notices it the whole time, but gets off on not telling you because she likes to imagine the moment that you catch your reflection and go “ahhh man! nobody told me!” as you replay all of the people that you recently smiled at. Yep. That’s her. She only started being nice to me last year after I told her I was dating an NFL player, like I could only then be on her list. Anxiety burrowed into my chest and an automatic monologue started to form in my head….

oh heyyy, yeahhhh, oh noo, I’m not working downtown anymore. Nope. I actually moved back from Chicago… yeahhhh. Why? Oh, because I got pregnant. MmmmHmmm. Yep. He’s 10 weeks old. I look great? Ohhh thanks, so do you! Suuuure! Call me sometime! I’d love to. MmmHmmm. Good to see you too!

And so I hid behind a doorway and watched as a member from my past life boarded the elevator and surely got off on her desired floor. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed or ashamed or jealous. It wasn’t that I’m not proud of myself or happy about all of the decisions that I’ve made. It’s just that sometimes I feel like an alien visiting Planet Allison and all of the Allisontians are staring at me because something’s just a little different. An elevator ride simply isn’t enough time to get deep and explain what it’s like to feel your son move inside of you for nine months, and then after you push him out of your body with every ounce of strength that you never knew you had, he smiles at you and you are forever in love with someone who didn’t exist last year. It’s hard to share something so special with an acquaintance who you were pretty much only competitive with every time you bumped into each other at fabulous parties. We weren’t playing the same game anymore… we had been placed into different leagues.

I mean, who knows, maybe she could have related? It looked like she really loved her Manolos and I don’t think they existed last year either… they were totally from this season.