I feel like a bad mom. I feel like a horrible, horrible person.
Yesterday was hard. The day before was hard, too. Baby was crying on and off ALL DAY. The husband was out of town and the baby was screaming or just...fussy. He needed to be held, constantly. By 4 in the afternoon, yesterday, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. By 6, I thought, well, he'll be getting tired soon. By 7, I had cried while rocking him to sleep in the recliner and was hoping Ryan's plane could somehow speed fly the rest of the way to Houston...and possibly just let him parachute down over our house on the way.
I put the baby in his bed at 7:30pm. An hour earlier than his 'normal' bedtime. I was excited! So much so that felt the urge to pirouette across the floor on my way to the kitchen to make myself a much needed sandwich. When he woke up at 7:51, I felt angry. ANGRY! He's just a baby. It's not his fault. But I was so tired.
What kind of mother starts to hate having to hold her baby? What kind of horrible person thinks to themselves, "If I hear that baby's voice again, I'm going to lose my mind." Me! That's who! He wasn't screaming all day but I was completely worn out. I can understand why there are ads out there that reminds people to not shake babies. I mean, everyone knows that you can't shake babies! Its dangerous and very stupid. But I can understand parents being driven to the point where they do. It's hard.
I've been a mom for all of 3 freakin' months, and I can tell you it's difficult. No day is the same as the last. And yes, its only been 3 months, and, yes, it will keep changing. I know. I don't need a, "Just you wait..." teaching. (Which is pretty demeaning, by the way.) I'm aware there are more things coming.
There is always some kind of challenge.
In a matter of 2 and half days, I'm not kidding, my son managed to sprout out of one size of his cloth diapers to where he cannot wear them anymore. Which means I am at the mercy of our mail carrier to bring us more diapers and in the meantime washing the ones he DOES fit in several times a day. Its always something!
I'll tell you what, though. Last night, when my husband came home around 11pm, the baby had woken up several more times. I was relieved he was home, though I'm sure it didn't show much. I had, by this time, a half glass of wine next to me and an empty Ben & Jerry's container in the trash. When the baby's voice rang over the baby monitor AGAIN, Ryan took the reins. I was finally off-duty! I watched on the monitor as he shushed him gently and picked him up. All he wanted was a little comfort and to know someone was out there. He fell right back to sleep as my husband rocked him, and then placed him back in his bed. Its simple! He just wanted a little physical contact and lovin'. But I was over it. He ended up waking again and my husband brought him out to rock him in the recliner. The baby's eyes were wide-freakin'-open, too! "GREEEAAAAT," I thought. I sipped my wine. There were tears mixed in it by now. I got up off of the couch and he spotted me. From his daddy's arms, I watched his eyes light up as he locked eyes with mine and he wiggled with glee and he smiled! My heart just melted. I fell back in love with the little monster I was secretly cursing just hours before.
Everyone tries to tell you what to expect as a parent, but I'm here to tell you that its different for everybody. You aren't alone, most likely! You can have all the information out in front of you, and, sure, you realize your baby is going through a "leap" or whatever, but it doesn't make it any less infuriating sometimes. Its all a part of the challenge...and love.
This too shall pass...until then, I have wine and a loving husband to help us through.
No comments:
Post a Comment