Today I think was a bad day. While I have had fun snuggling the kid as she recovers from her cough, the "IWANTMOMMA.WANTMOMMA.WANTMOMMA.WANTMOMMA." chant has gotten old. It's been her mantra lately as she coughs and hacks her way through this illness (thankfully, she's recovered from the fever).
As a result, I have spent more time on my ass watching TV and not doing stuff than I care to admit. I can't leave her alone because she follows with the pitiful cry of "IWANTMOMMA.WANTMOMMA.WANTMOMMA." in a sad, hoarse voice that tugs on your heartstrings, but after a few days of it, it gets old. Real old. Claustrophobic old.
It reminded me of the first three months with Benevolent Dictator and how I had such a hard time just holding her. I enjoyed it, but really, I also liked my freedom of movement. I like being able to cook, tidy up and do other things around the house. Holding onto a child is nice and all, but try doing it without the ability to do anything else (or the option of doing something else) and really, the shit gets old.
So today, I nearly lost my damn mind. Benevolent Dictator kept whining for me and begging for me and I just snapped. I think it's in combination with last night when she couldn't fall asleep and just lay their chanting, "IWANTMOMMA.IWANTMOMMA," which works the guilt reflex real nice too.
Here's the thing: I would love to scoop her up and have her sleep next to me, but I also know that may not be the best thing for her. Right now with everyone sick, we were all in different beds for awhile. It just feels better when you're sick to stretch out and be comfortable. And I know that while she'd like to snuggle me, you rest better when you're SLEEPING IN YOUR OWN DAMN BED AND NOT KICKING YOUR FATHER IN THE FACE.
So I wasn't the best and most patient and kind mother I could be. Being stuck in the house all day as dishes piled up, crumbs went unswept, toys got scattered and a tot chanted, "IWANTMOMMA.IWANTMOMMA," got to me. I wasn't exactly good. I snapped. I cried. And when the toilet got backed up, that's when I really flipped out.
Fortunately, there are friends who are equipped with alcohol and fun conversation to help me out sometimes. And this was one of those times. While I managed to flee the house yesterday, it wasn't quite enough. Especially after today, I needed a little bit more.
Also, I have to thank Jeff for being understanding enough to know that sometimes his wife needs to flee the house for a bit and clear her head. He may be a homebody, but I'm not good at it. But no matter what, Momma comes back. I always come back.
I guess what's the point of this? Maybe to point out that parenting isn't perfect and we all have really shitty days. The trick is to forgive yourself and be prepared to start the next day/week/month/whatever with a new face. And also to realize that tomorrow is a new day. Because really, you have no other choice in the matter. But that's life in general -- we always have to get up and do the next day, and the day after that.
As Mr. Slinger said in Lily's Purple Plastic Purse, "Today was a difficult day, tomorrow will be better." And damn, if that mouse wasn't right.