I cried last night, in bed, holding Anonybabe. Crying is more of an event than it used to be. In my teens and early twenties I would get a good cry in once a week, every two weeks, tops. But apart from a couple of hormone-infused, goddammit-this-is-overwhelming-how-the-fuck-did-I-get-here jags at the beginning of Anonybabe's life, my eyes have remained pretty dry for the last 7 or 8 years.
But last night, I just didn't want to be around her. All of my prancing around to make her laugh and smile seemed tired and old - I didn't want to do it. And it may well be my imagination, but I think she's starting to really catch on to the fact that I leave her behind when I go to work on purpose and she's starting to get a little pissed off. She is shrilly happy when I'm in the room, thoroughly angry when she gets handed to dad for food or sleep, and now seems to expect something of me when I walk in the door.
Crying sessions start best with a little sleep deprivation, and we were both coasting on just a little sleep. The night before, Anonybabe had inexplicably woken up at one in the morning ready to play. Anonyhubby and I took drawn-out turns coaxing her back to sleep. Then she and Anonyhubby slept until 10:30(!*@&) yesterday. To even things out, Anonyhub only let her take one nap so she'd be ready to conk out at 10pm or so. 10 came and went, no sleep. I handed Anonybabe over to dad at some point to let him put her down, but I was feeling a little guilty. For leaving her behind to go to work. For not paying attention to her once I got home so I could cook dinner. For not really wanting to interact with her. And finally for making her cry when I yelled at her for biting my boob during her 9pm nursing. I mean, I have to because biting the nipple with those sharp little incisors is not an option. Her face completely crumpled when I did it; I actually saw inner turmoil in my 10 month-old's face. She just clung to me and looked sad for a while. So at 11:30ish I called out to hubby to bring Anonybabe in so she could lay down on the bed with me. I kept trying to push her pacifier on her while she kept trying to comfort nurse, with the result that she scratched me in the face. Hard. I took her hand and told her "no" so she did it again and went back to nursing. And that's when I teared up. And once I started crying I just let the momentum build and had a good self-pitying sob to cleanse my palette.
Anonybabe is the very person I least want to have power struggles with but that is my job. We have kind of been in the baby honeymoon period and I see signs that it is about to end. So I'm blubbering about all of the work I have in front of me. I have to grit my teeth and be a mom and when I'm getting clawed in the face by a child who is just learning how to express her likes and dislikes to a very tired and disheartened mommy...I don't know. I don't get to take the "ow-you're-hurting-me" tack anymore. I don't get to take the pain she inflicts personally. I have to be a grown up now. And getting scratched in the face by a 10 month old is nothing. I know this. Which makes me feel more sad and overwhelmed.
So I cried like a baby about it for a while. And now I'm blogging it so I can get to a place where I have some semblance of a grownup & positive outlook about the job ahead of me.
I like not being in the honeymoon period with my husband anymore, so chances are I can learn to like having a real working relationship with my daughter. Without all of the violins playing in the background and little snow white birds tweeting around my head about how gorgeous and perfect she is. Right?
But last night, I just didn't want to be around her. All of my prancing around to make her laugh and smile seemed tired and old - I didn't want to do it. And it may well be my imagination, but I think she's starting to really catch on to the fact that I leave her behind when I go to work on purpose and she's starting to get a little pissed off. She is shrilly happy when I'm in the room, thoroughly angry when she gets handed to dad for food or sleep, and now seems to expect something of me when I walk in the door.
Crying sessions start best with a little sleep deprivation, and we were both coasting on just a little sleep. The night before, Anonybabe had inexplicably woken up at one in the morning ready to play. Anonyhubby and I took drawn-out turns coaxing her back to sleep. Then she and Anonyhubby slept until 10:30(!*@&) yesterday. To even things out, Anonyhub only let her take one nap so she'd be ready to conk out at 10pm or so. 10 came and went, no sleep. I handed Anonybabe over to dad at some point to let him put her down, but I was feeling a little guilty. For leaving her behind to go to work. For not paying attention to her once I got home so I could cook dinner. For not really wanting to interact with her. And finally for making her cry when I yelled at her for biting my boob during her 9pm nursing. I mean, I have to because biting the nipple with those sharp little incisors is not an option. Her face completely crumpled when I did it; I actually saw inner turmoil in my 10 month-old's face. She just clung to me and looked sad for a while. So at 11:30ish I called out to hubby to bring Anonybabe in so she could lay down on the bed with me. I kept trying to push her pacifier on her while she kept trying to comfort nurse, with the result that she scratched me in the face. Hard. I took her hand and told her "no" so she did it again and went back to nursing. And that's when I teared up. And once I started crying I just let the momentum build and had a good self-pitying sob to cleanse my palette.
Anonybabe is the very person I least want to have power struggles with but that is my job. We have kind of been in the baby honeymoon period and I see signs that it is about to end. So I'm blubbering about all of the work I have in front of me. I have to grit my teeth and be a mom and when I'm getting clawed in the face by a child who is just learning how to express her likes and dislikes to a very tired and disheartened mommy...I don't know. I don't get to take the "ow-you're-hurting-me" tack anymore. I don't get to take the pain she inflicts personally. I have to be a grown up now. And getting scratched in the face by a 10 month old is nothing. I know this. Which makes me feel more sad and overwhelmed.
So I cried like a baby about it for a while. And now I'm blogging it so I can get to a place where I have some semblance of a grownup & positive outlook about the job ahead of me.
I like not being in the honeymoon period with my husband anymore, so chances are I can learn to like having a real working relationship with my daughter. Without all of the violins playing in the background and little snow white birds tweeting around my head about how gorgeous and perfect she is. Right?
1 comment:
How is it that I visit your blog and I've missed so many entries? You've been spot on with some things, as the British say. Sometimes I think the real thing about acting as an adult is just not walking out but hanging in there. I too, repeatedly, want my kids to just get the heck away from me, get their paws off my body, their disgusting food eating habits away from my clothes, because for me parenting feels degrading and violating many times. I'm sure the attitude of servanthood can also fit in but this type of servanthood really feels degrading cause you feel the life is sucked out not put in. Thank God for all the good times and beautiful children that make it worth it. I also love that you have loved having your baby in the baby faze and that you've been enjoying because it felt really hard to me and I wish I had enjoyed it more. Oh well, parenting regrets!
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