Post disclaimer: Much of this is out of frustration, illness and emotion. I'm sure I will feel better tomorrow but I want to be authentic on my blog. Still if you want to comment in support that is wonderful, if you want to be critical of me, then just keep your comments to yourself, because I don't need them. That being said if you want to read on, please do.
I always thought that at some point in my life I would be a Stay at Home Mom. My mom had a myriad of jobs but was always home with us too. I just figured that I would have a chance to do that at some point, and who knows, I still might someday. When we had baby goat, for better or for worse, it simply wasn't an option though.
And I am still lucky. I have a daycare provider we love, I have a career I love. Most of the time it is fine.
Dare I admit it? I even enjoy working out of the home. Yes, there are days when I feel like a horrible awful parent for not being there, for having to shuffle everything if baby goat gets a fever, feeling like I hardly have any time with him much less time for fun, play and learning. There are days I'd love to have more time. But yes, most of the time, I like getting away to a quiet office to think in (mostly) complete sentences and not deal an increasingly obstinant (albeit adorable) toddler.
Admitting that alone makes me feel like a horrible mom. I know rationally that many moms have to work and even many moms are better moms for working but I feel like I should want to be home with him all the time.
And then there are days like today. I've got the post Christmas cold - it may be the old cold come back after my meds wore off, I'm not sure, but I spent most of yesterday miserable in the back room at the ILs while they, and hubby, watched my son. I felt bad enough for that.
Today Mr. Goat was sick in bed and I was marginally better, and since daycare is closed for the week I stayed home to care for him and baby goat.
And it all went to hell.
The hitting. The biting. The whining. On and on. He's feeling fine - full of energy, annoyed to be stuck in our too small apartment with nothing fun going on. I was barely functioning trying not to cough on him, keep him engaged and from "loving" on the cats too much.
Baby goat turned 22 months yesterday. He is charming, and smart (I think so at least), he's got a smile to melt you, but he is intense. He's physical. He hits - out of love and out of frustration. He bites when you try to correct him. People insist he'll grow out of it, but it is so hard. My never ending refrain seems to be either "NO" or "Use your words"
It was endless today. Even with PBS helping with the parenting, my cough and the acommpanying headache keep coming and so did he. Everything was a battle.
Naptime was a blessing - a too short blessing.
By this time Mr. Goat went to a chiropracter to help fix a sore back in hopes of feeling better. He also went to the grocery store which we really needed. But again it was me and the toddler.
And it kept getting worse. It was like he knew just the buttons to make me crazy (pretty intuitive for a toddler). By the time it was dinner I just had to remove myself and have a good cry. I felt beat up - physically and emotionally and just needed a rest.
Part of my sorrow in this is how is it that I can't even seem to handle one tough day with a toddler, the first real day he's home on "break" I can't handle 1 day and I'm his mom. Yes, I'm sick. Yes, he's a toddler. Yes, yes, yes. I KNOW.
But I'm his mom. I thought I was supposed to be good at this. I love kids. I love working with them. But I feel like such a failure to baby goat.
And it makes me sad.
It makes me sad because I feel that way, but it also makes me sad that mom's have these expectations on them. Do they come from society, our parents, ourselves, some deep competetive need? I am not sure, but how awful is it that a single day can make me feel like the worst mother in the world.
Baby goat is fast asleep. Content and happy. Well fed. Warm. Safe. Loved.
How is it that I am a failure? And yet, that's what I feel today.
Tomorrow Auntie Goat comes to watch him and I flee back to work. I may still be sick but I'm going. And the knowledge that I am fleeing my own child just to have a moment to recover from today....that makes me cry.
But it is the truth..
I love that boy, but I didn't like him very much today. I didn't like me very much either.
So there you go. The ugly truth. I know it will get better, I know. Or I will say so until it happens. I just thought I'd be better at being a mom than this.