Lucy not napping since Sunday got old by, like, Monday. Darn daylight savings. Mr. Franklin? Was it really necessary? Really? It’s not the lack of schedule that irks me (though it IS irksome), it’s the crabby, clingy, needy baby that is a result. It makes me wonder if I’m doing this right. This Mom Thing.
I hear the baby crying/crabbing from her highchair after a long day of the same and the first thought in my head is “Oh Lord, please shut up.” or maybe “Where did Daddy hide that bottle of Schnapps?” instead of “What can I do for you?” Evidently I have to work on my customer service skills.
How does anyone deal with this constant crabbing? How does anyone have the patience? Lucy doesn’t need me to be in her face every waking hour so much any more (and thank goodness for that) but we’re in a place where she WANTS me to be and I want to get stuff done for myself or for the house or for dinner. By 4pm, I just have to repeat “Just hold it together until 6, just hold it together until 6” when the Bubba can come and relieve me at least by lending his presence to the situation, which, a lot of times, is just enough to change the mood.
There are some days when I feel so suffocated by the walls of our house and completely incapable of picking up these toys one more time and doing one more load of laundry and marking the passage of time by how many diapers we’ve been through. Days when I doubt my abilities to parent an older baby or (gasp!) a toddler. Days when I wish more than anything else I had somewhere I had to get to.
So, what if I get a job? But then I think about how very lucky we are to be able to afford for me to stay home and give Lucy the best care possible. Even if I worked full time chances are I wouldn’t make much more than it would cost to have someone fabulous watch my baby. And at this point, the jobs I could probably get would involve spending copious amounts of time teaching other peoples’ kids. That’s even if I could even find a job that needs filled. Lord knows there is a ton of people right now who would kill to be in my position. Bratty McBratterson.
I do work one day a week. And lately I’ve been picking up a few hours here and there since the Bubba can watch Lucy. He is on a very strict 40 hour workweek diet mandated by his higher-ups in an effort not to cut any more jobs. Which is nice, because I always know when I can expect him to be around.
It’s turned into a good situation. The Bubba gets some good day time hours to spend with Lucy, I get to get out and play like I’m an adult with adult things to do and schedules to keep and adult people to talk to about adult things.
I guess I’m having a hard time finding meaning for myself in a routine that leaves me feeling like I go in circles and don’t accomplish anything. In my brain I know full well that keeping me and Lucy alive some days is the absolute best case scenario, but in all my other parts it feels like failure and I get angry when I go to my drawer and I STILL don’t have any clean socks.
I know, I know, screw the socks, Lucy’s only little once, etc. Sigh. There’s nothing like feeling guilty about feeling angry about stuff I should feel lucky about!
I didn’t mean for this post to come off as so depressing. Thank goodness spring is coming. I think I need to get out more.