I am a worrier. And I come from a proud family of worriers, right mom?
On one hand, I am so blessed. My closest friend (and cousin) has traveled across the country to visit and help out with the new baby for the few days. It's the second time she's met Zander and the first time she has met Cassie. And, it's a great visit to be sure.
But, I'm busy worrying. Worrying about everything and anything related to Cassandra (and Zander too). In any 24-hour period, my head could be going like this:
- "Hmm. She is sleeping too much. Maybe something is wrong. [CUE CLOCK MOVING SIX HOURS LATER] "Maybe she is not sleeping enough."
- "Are those jerky movements (you know the ones where babies look like they are conducting an orchestra) still normal at seven weeks of age? Shouldn't they be decreasing by now?"
- "I think she's wheezing. What if she has asthma? Do you think she's wheezing?
- An on and on.
So I google things and google is not my friend. It just effortlessly provides me with a host of new information to worry about. If google were a facebook friend of mine, I would "unfriend" it. And then regret it.