And truth be told, the word that comes to my tired, frazzled mind most often is failing. As in "you're failing". The words I silently say to myself when L won't eat, won't stop hitting, won't listen to me, won't sit and craft or pay attention at story time, won't nap. I could go on... and on... and on.
I'm not the first mommy to feel this total sinking "you're blowing it" feeling in all such cases. But it gets worse. I tell myself I've failed when L's tantrum or outright bad behavior is followed by my own (tantrum and bad behavior).
Yes, recently I've had to apologize to him, I've had to say I'm sorry. Because I've yelled or I've lost my patience. And acted like a little brat. And I have had a lot more time on this earth figure to out how to harness my emotions and control my patience and learn how to deal with things that frustrate me.
And this is it. My chance to instill those things in him. To teach him patience, and how to accept things that don't go exactly the way we want them to, with grace. Without blowing up or saying something mean (and that we don't mean).
I'm failing at many other things too. For real. I'm not the Suzie homemaker that so many of you are. Even though I am at home A LOT now. My house is cluttered to the max and I don't see dust and dirt, let alone take care of it like I should. I am not whipping up amazingly homemade and healthy family meals three times a day. What's crazy is I am constantly doing something though. I am rarely idle.
Another massive fail? I am not staying up past L's own bedtime to devote quality time to the German often enough. I fall out shortly after L, as my bum is whooped from each and every day in toddler land.
Now that I've revealed how very vulnerable I am, what a mess my life feels like, and let me tell you, I've only scratched the surface (I promise to come back and divulge more soon, OK?), I wanted to come here and say that being L's full time mommy is love. It's sucking up ALL of my time and energy, but it's love. And I wouldn't trade it. Seriously. I mean that.
I am sad at the end of each and everyday that that day is over and my little beautiful crazy boy is another day older, and bigger. And closer to VPK and kindergarten, and leaving mommy behind.
I want to say that these days, he's entertaining, bright and funny, and full of so much expression. That now that he can talk in great big sentences and articulate things he wants and loves, I feel my heart swell with pride. I want to say that seeing him jump up and down with joy when he's gone on the potty and rushes over to "high five" me, I am delighted. I want to say that when he runs like lightning and jumps and dances and drums on things, smiling and squealing with glee I am happy. I want to say that when he comes up and hugs me super crazy tight, or says "I love you mommy", there is simply nothing else in the world that matters, that I am fulfilled. I feel at these times, that I -am- doing something right. That I am not a total and absolute failure. Not totally. Ha.
But I have loads to work on. And I wonder how and when. Some things are a matter of patience, of thinking things through like I know I know how to do. Others, well. I am asking you... How do YOU do it? Gosh I miss my mom.
|A moment of quiet concentration. He loves figuring stuff out.|
|My happy boy.|
|That's L "working". Amidst piles of folded laundry.|