Ironically (or not) after publishing my bad mom post yesterday....I made it 100% official last night. Because I am trying to be kinder to myself however, let's call it "exhausted mom" and not "bad mom".
I don't even know where to begin in exposing my shame to the world, but let's start with an hour before James came home last night. A mere hour - I was so close.
It had been a relatively good day with Cora. No major screaming or meltdowns, and one solid morning nap. Always a blessed miracle. My neighbor Liz was super sweet to throw a welcome-to-the-neighborhood-and-meet-the-ladies-of-said-neighborhood event for me at 4pm. I was a little nervous about it because that happens to be the exact time Cora will (occasionally - nothing is regular) take her long afternoon nap. Around 4:45, sure enough, she sacked out in my arms as I walked around talking to people. At 5:10, I decided to take my leave early - because nothing is more important in your life than your child's sleep - and try to put Cora down.
Of course as soon as we left the party and walked outside she was wide awake. By the time we got home I rocked her for 45 minutes. She faded in and out...but like the prize fighter she is, she never went down for the count.
I finally gave up and went downstairs with her to play. At this point she transformed into a giant Grumpasaurus Rex. BUT...I still felt OK about things. I hadn't heard from James differently, so I thought, "hey - just 15 more minutes and he'll probably be home. We can do this." I texted him and called him to confirm this fact for my peace of mind, and also so I would know when to put dinner in the oven....no answer. After the call, major meltdown city began. MAJOR. Like more terrifying than any meltdown I had every experienced with her. And PEOPLE. There have been meltdowns.
She screamed, went stiff as a board, turned red and and howled without stopping. No matter what I did she wouldn't calm down. Then she started choking on her own mucus and breathing became difficult. I started to really panic and called James a couple more times. Not just to find out when he was coming, but to tell him I needed help. I'm sure I shouldn't have been, but I was scared. After having 3 children, I have seen my sister be relaxed while her youngest is slingshotted out of a baby bjorn bouncer, but for me each new crazy thing is terrifying.
Now this is the part you've been waiting for. The reason you read all that boring context above:
I was completely wound up inside and scared and the anger escalated from about 0-100 in 5 seconds that James was unavailable and I was alone in this crazy country with no one to help me. I had a completely break with sanity and did something I regretted, well not instantly, but definitely later that night. I sent him an email (typing with my nose while holding stiff as a board, screaming baby) with the subject line....wait for it...."Pick up your f-ing phone."
When I read that now it makes me laugh. (It may not make him laugh for a few more days or weeks.) But it was SO not funny then. I was insanely mad. And for those of you who don't know me...I never swear. I swear, I don't. And I try not to pseudo swear (i.e.: f-ing) because it is ridiculous, and if you're going to do it, just do it. So yeah, I was mad with my big talking, fake f bomb dropping email.
By the time James came home, about 20 minutes later, I had calmed her and started to feed her...but forgiveness and relaxing took about another 1.5 hours. Yes, I am a jerk. And the whole time I bounced around the room with screaming Cora I kept thinking..."I'm taking my baby home and coming back when she's sane in a year, or ten." Obviously not happening. Just temporary insanity.
I'd like to say this was the end of mybad mom exhausted mom (and wife) ways...but it got worse. Can you imagine? Worse than the almost f-bomb? True.
We put Cora down for the night and I SWEAR that I woke up around 1:15 and heard her wimper, so I made a bottle by my bed to be ready for when she really woke up. (I keep a bottle of water and the formula on my nightstand so I can mix quickly upon her beckoning.) At 3:15 she started cryng and I bolted upright, grabbed the bottle and ran into her room.
I swooped her out of her crib and over to the glider and started to feed her.
Of course, she was very fussy and wriggly and making lots of noise drinking, but I didn't think much of it because lately she has been doing that at all feedings. We are now testing for silent reflux with zantac. It did seem a little stranger than usual however, so finally I got up and left the dark room to see the bottle in the hallway.
Wait for it.
It was just water. I let out a little yelping scream. James came flying over in the dark to ask what was wrong, I threw the baby at him and went to make another bottle. Crying and thinking I just killed my child. The doctors tell you: NO WATER. She had noisily forced down 1 full oz of water.. and my baby was going to die.
I ran to my bedside table to grab the formula and looked at how much was in the dispenser to try and figure out how on earth I had only imagined filling the bottle with formula instead of really filling it. And as I looked and thought... I slammed full body into my bedroom door. Bam!
James came running again, this time crying baby in arms, and asked behind the door if I was OK. I have no idea how that door got partially shut behind me when I went in, but my body shut it the rest of the way.
I told him I was, but the inside arch of both of my feet were killing me. How in a full body slam of the door, the one thing I injured was the inside of both of my feet is baffling in and of itself, but I ignored my foot pain, shoved the new bottle at James, and ran downstairs to call my mom.
She calmly told me I did not kill my child, and I shuffled back up to bed where I lay until James finished feeding her, waiting to find out how she needed to go to the emergency room.
All I can say in true Scarlet style is, "tomorrow is another day." Well, today is. And I hope it's a better one. I wonder how I will try to kill my child or alienate my husband today.
I don't even know where to begin in exposing my shame to the world, but let's start with an hour before James came home last night. A mere hour - I was so close.
It had been a relatively good day with Cora. No major screaming or meltdowns, and one solid morning nap. Always a blessed miracle. My neighbor Liz was super sweet to throw a welcome-to-the-neighborhood-and-meet-the-ladies-of-said-neighborhood event for me at 4pm. I was a little nervous about it because that happens to be the exact time Cora will (occasionally - nothing is regular) take her long afternoon nap. Around 4:45, sure enough, she sacked out in my arms as I walked around talking to people. At 5:10, I decided to take my leave early - because nothing is more important in your life than your child's sleep - and try to put Cora down.
Of course as soon as we left the party and walked outside she was wide awake. By the time we got home I rocked her for 45 minutes. She faded in and out...but like the prize fighter she is, she never went down for the count.
I finally gave up and went downstairs with her to play. At this point she transformed into a giant Grumpasaurus Rex. BUT...I still felt OK about things. I hadn't heard from James differently, so I thought, "hey - just 15 more minutes and he'll probably be home. We can do this." I texted him and called him to confirm this fact for my peace of mind, and also so I would know when to put dinner in the oven....no answer. After the call, major meltdown city began. MAJOR. Like more terrifying than any meltdown I had every experienced with her. And PEOPLE. There have been meltdowns.
She screamed, went stiff as a board, turned red and and howled without stopping. No matter what I did she wouldn't calm down. Then she started choking on her own mucus and breathing became difficult. I started to really panic and called James a couple more times. Not just to find out when he was coming, but to tell him I needed help. I'm sure I shouldn't have been, but I was scared. After having 3 children, I have seen my sister be relaxed while her youngest is slingshotted out of a baby bjorn bouncer, but for me each new crazy thing is terrifying.
Now this is the part you've been waiting for. The reason you read all that boring context above:
I was completely wound up inside and scared and the anger escalated from about 0-100 in 5 seconds that James was unavailable and I was alone in this crazy country with no one to help me. I had a completely break with sanity and did something I regretted, well not instantly, but definitely later that night. I sent him an email (typing with my nose while holding stiff as a board, screaming baby) with the subject line....wait for it...."Pick up your f-ing phone."
When I read that now it makes me laugh. (It may not make him laugh for a few more days or weeks.) But it was SO not funny then. I was insanely mad. And for those of you who don't know me...I never swear. I swear, I don't. And I try not to pseudo swear (i.e.: f-ing) because it is ridiculous, and if you're going to do it, just do it. So yeah, I was mad with my big talking, fake f bomb dropping email.
By the time James came home, about 20 minutes later, I had calmed her and started to feed her...but forgiveness and relaxing took about another 1.5 hours. Yes, I am a jerk. And the whole time I bounced around the room with screaming Cora I kept thinking..."I'm taking my baby home and coming back when she's sane in a year, or ten." Obviously not happening. Just temporary insanity.
I'd like to say this was the end of my
We put Cora down for the night and I SWEAR that I woke up around 1:15 and heard her wimper, so I made a bottle by my bed to be ready for when she really woke up. (I keep a bottle of water and the formula on my nightstand so I can mix quickly upon her beckoning.) At 3:15 she started cryng and I bolted upright, grabbed the bottle and ran into her room.
I swooped her out of her crib and over to the glider and started to feed her.
Of course, she was very fussy and wriggly and making lots of noise drinking, but I didn't think much of it because lately she has been doing that at all feedings. We are now testing for silent reflux with zantac. It did seem a little stranger than usual however, so finally I got up and left the dark room to see the bottle in the hallway.
Wait for it.
It was just water. I let out a little yelping scream. James came flying over in the dark to ask what was wrong, I threw the baby at him and went to make another bottle. Crying and thinking I just killed my child. The doctors tell you: NO WATER. She had noisily forced down 1 full oz of water.. and my baby was going to die.
I ran to my bedside table to grab the formula and looked at how much was in the dispenser to try and figure out how on earth I had only imagined filling the bottle with formula instead of really filling it. And as I looked and thought... I slammed full body into my bedroom door. Bam!
James came running again, this time crying baby in arms, and asked behind the door if I was OK. I have no idea how that door got partially shut behind me when I went in, but my body shut it the rest of the way.
I told him I was, but the inside arch of both of my feet were killing me. How in a full body slam of the door, the one thing I injured was the inside of both of my feet is baffling in and of itself, but I ignored my foot pain, shoved the new bottle at James, and ran downstairs to call my mom.
She calmly told me I did not kill my child, and I shuffled back up to bed where I lay until James finished feeding her, waiting to find out how she needed to go to the emergency room.
All I can say in true Scarlet style is, "tomorrow is another day." Well, today is. And I hope it's a better one. I wonder how I will try to kill my child or alienate my husband today.
Your posts make me laugh and cry at the same time....the counselor in me wants to remind you to take care of yourself and the friend in me wants to catch a plane to Georgia to hang with you! Love you girl....parenting does have its ups and downs...I think the most important thing is that you can laugh at yourself after the pseudo f-bombs and injured feet! You are doing just fine!
ReplyDeleteMy sweet daughter. Hopefully it will help you feel better when you remember the ridiculous mistakes I made while I was with you.
ReplyDeleteThe Ballentine Girls loved this post and related on so many levels. Thanks for your honesty and humor, babies are quite resilient... thank goodness for that. Take care of yourself! My snotty nosed Cora says hello to your water drinking Cora!
ReplyDeleteLike. Like. Like. Thanks ladies!
ReplyDeleteWe could always get Caroline calmed down by walking around holding her with one hand supporting her butt, and one hand on her stomach, with slight pressure on her stomach. Not sure if it'll work with Cora, but give it a shot. We've all been there, my wife more than me!
ReplyDelete