Isn’t it funny how you can count down the hours until bedtime, but once the little brat…I mean baby boy….falls asleep you just stand there, arms empty, eye twitching, wondering “now what?”
I can pee alone? I can finally eat a meal? I can actually clean up the war zone we’ve been living in?
And then…you do none of those things. You sit down with a
glass bottle of wine and binge on Sons of Anarchy episodes on Netflix. Then decide at 10pm it’s a good idea to paint your nails, which means you have to stay up super late to make sure you don’t stamp them with sheet-prints.
Or is this just me?
It has been snowing for 3 days. THREE. In this particular part of the Northwest, that’s pretty rare. I’ve been miserable. I hate winter. I hate snow. I hate anything that makes me cold & the roads terrible. Unfortunately, Baby Bee LOVES the snow. We also have no snow gear (I didn’t think I’d need it here!!!) so my poor love has been locked up for 32 hours with his grumpy mom & schizo, obese cat. Needless to say…that equation doesn’t make for a happy toddler. And when the toddler ain’t happy, NOBODYS happy. I’m pretty sure I had to repeat everything I said to him at least four times. And guys, I’m not exaggerating. And he’s also in this whole “defiance” stage where he refuses to listen to me, or even acknowledge that I’m talking to him. IF he makes eye contact, he’ll do the opposite of what I’m telling/asking him to do. And then laugh. Evilly. Which instantly zaps any self control and/or patience I may have pretended to have. I feel like we did NOTHING today but butt heads. It’s an awful feeling. Especially because I KNOW he was just bored and restless. And tired of mama always being on his ass. But holy Christ kid, do what I say the FIRST time and I won’t have to be such a nag!! But I’m pretty sure that realization won’t come until…adulthood? Teenaged years if I’m lucky.
But then I put him to bed, and looked at his beautiful lashes on his chunky cheeks and his sleepy half-smile and I forgot all my frustrations. The relief was still there, but I wasn’t angry or
edgy anymore. I quietly promised him we’d do better tomorrow and then laid there listening to his breathing. Man, this boy gets to me. In every way possible. Then I got on Facebook and saw that a great blog/page I follow, Birth Without Fear, posted this gem
and I thought…”yeah, it TOTALLY is!” I’d much rather be snowed up with a hyper, testy 2 year old than have him 2,000 miles away. It’s frustrating I get all his “bad” days and The Drone gets nothing but the good days, but whatevs. One day, if I do this motherhood thing right, my son will know that he can come to me with anything and I will always be there for him. Even if he forces me outside into the snow.