"Fond as we are of our loved ones, there comes at times during their absence an unexplained peace." - Anne Shaw, seventeenth-century poet across the pond
This was the quote on my day calender today. How fitting. I mean, I love Anonybabe and all, but yesterday in particular, I did not like her. I did not like her one bit.
It was, truly, quite the bitch. As was I. I find that I am an exceptional parent - gentle, loving, kind, gracious...as long as things aren't challenging. Like, when Anonybabe was 3 months old? I was a beatific vision of motherhood.
But aside from crying at the drop of a hat and changing her mind about what she wanted every two seconds, my child bit me repeatedly this weekend. On the arms, on the fleshy part of my boobs, and again and again on my legs as I tried to get things done around the kitchen. I think I horrified one friend when I told her about it. "That's...mean".
Well...no. Anonybabe wasn't trying to hurt me physically. She wasn't biting to draw blood. She would do so slowly, coquettishly, looking up at me to watch me react while she did it. She was trying to get a rise out of me. And the fact that my child was toying with my emotions like that made me crazy. It hurt my feelings and my knee-jerk reactions were childish and wrong.
I bit right back, baby. Okay, I didn't really, but I strongly considered it. And I did swat her butt, pinch her ear, push her roughly away, and tell her I didn't want to be around her. All horribly inappropriate and yet briefly satisfying. And then I would feel horrible. And then she would bite me again and make me want to tear my hair out and/or lock her in the closet for a few hours. Let the childhood scarring begin!
1 comment:
Been there, done that!
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