The following returns me to my roots of blogging. I just need to talk it out and you can come for the ride or not. It’s not pretty below and not all that entertaining. After two months of silence, tis is what I’ve got.
You know, I’ve been at this blog thing for quite a while. Not the longest commitment I’ve ever made. That would have been my cats. Who knew when I was 21 that I would still have the same cat I couldn’t resist in the 3-day special cage at the pound. I’ll be 39 this year and she and I are still going strong. Comrades have passed, but Kiska, man, she just keeps truckin’ (if by truckin I mean she sleeps all day in the same place on the bed. Jumping off for treats in the morning only to be back on the bed when I try to make it without disturbing her.)
Then there is my marriage. If that’s not a commitment… Well, let’s just say I take commitment seriously.
Then there is the kid. He is the easiest commitment I have ever made. Not that it was easy having him – years in the making. Nor is it easy on a daily basis. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done ,this Mom gig. But it is like breathing. I know nothing else at this point.
But you know, it is hard. This last week has been hard for a million reasons. My thyroid meds are still not right after four different medications and adjustments. It takes me about five days to figure out that the bone-tired exhaustion, loss of coherence and memory loss is not just a bad night of sleep.
Sparky has been working a million hours and it’s still not enough so he works a million more. And sweet Max decided to stop sleeping again, going to bed later and later, waking up at midnight asking to eat, waking up at 5 am to start his day.
It took me 3 weeks to realize it was a new sleep pattern for the kid and not a few nights off. After days of different non-solutions, I finally revisited the sleep training he and I used the first time he learned to sleep through the night. And finally, after days of sitting in front of his door with the video monitor in hand, telling him to get back in bed at the exact moment he tried to leap out, well, last night it worked.
At the same time, Max has hit his terrible twos. I don’t know how to deal with this new phase. I’m at a loss. The stern voice that worked 3 weeks ago is completely ignored. No now means “Sure, go ahead and drop mommy’s phone into the toilet.” My phone might as well join my mothering skills, self-esteem and energy.
I became the screaming mom with the shitty kid.
But I don’t have a shitty kid. I have a great kid who needs boundaries and structure and a mom who knows how to create those in a functional way that does not include screaming.
I felt like all I was doing was screaming and although it was not working, I didn’t know what else to do. Now I get on my knees, look into his eyes, say no and then offer something else. This works, but I’m on my knees more than a 2 dollar whore. And then, before I can get up, he’s into something else I have to say no to.
On top of all of this, I need to shit or get off the pot with kid number two. I want another for a multitude of reasons, but I have no idea how I would do it. No idea. The thought of another kid moves me to tears (and panic attacks) because I feel like i’m fucking up so much already. I’m so tired. I can’t think straight with one, how in the hell would I do another. I see all these women, all my friends, doing so much and having 1,2, or 3 kids in tow and they do it. It might not be easy, but it seems easier for them than my one and my one kid is a good, mellow kid. He really is low maintenance.
I went out twice last week and twice I lost major items. The first time it was my sunglasses. My exorbitantly expensive sunglasses I had trouble justifying because really who spends that much on sunglasses even though I haven’t lost a single pair of sunglasses since I was 22 and I wear sunglasses every single time I leave house. And the second was my GPS, Gloria. Sure, she takes me through fields or through downtown Frankfurt on my way to Claire’s, but she likes to see the countryside. I know she’ll take me for a drive while getting me to my destination. I need her. And I lost her.
Then both items were found in the trunk of the car. I had no memory of putting them in the trunk. I guess if I did, they wouldn’t have been lost.
All of these feelings of crapiness came to a head last night. Markus came in from a long day of appointments to find me feeding Max boxed, non-organic mac and cheese while drinking a glass of wine. I rarely drink anymore and I never drink when it is just Max and I because I worry too much about not thinking clearly in an emergency. (In my defense, I knew Markus would be home momentarily.)And see, I’m judging myself even now for having two sips of wine while alone with my kid.
Then this morning, at 6:15 am, when Max came into our bedroom, climbed up on the bed and said “Mama!”, yesterday and all my self-inflicted judgements and insecurities floated away. I saw life through Max.
The morning washes away the day before and he just can’t wait to explore the new day with me. Me. The mom who can’t remember shit anymore and who drank wine while alone and who screamed at him and isn’t as physically fit as she once was and whose body looks like she had 8 kids and whose laundry is on the floor and who can’t remember shit anymore… did I just say that? it feels like I might have said that.
None of that mattered to him. He just wanted to point out letters and play trucks and eat good stuff and drink juice from a cup and he wants me to do it with him.
And that’s all I really need to do.