It's Been One of Those Days



I don't know what it was about Monday, but it was rough.  It's the first time Georgia made me cry.

Oh sure, I cry pretty much every day because she does something cute, or learns something new, or grows out of another outfit.  But yesterday was the first day I cried out of sheer frustration and confusion and doubt about this mommyhood thing.

It's been a crazy week.  Last week we spent 12 hours in a car, stopped for the night and attended a funeral for a total of 12 hours, then drove back to Houston.  We spent the night in north Houston at my aunt and uncle's house, but Georgia went to bed late.  Mimi and Grandpa were here for a weekend visit when we returned - and thank God for that, after spending 24 out of 36 hours in a car, I really needed a break. 

The following two nights I had obligations and wasn't home from 5 p.m. until after Georgia's bedtime.  She had so much fun playing with Mimi, Grandpa, Daddy and the puppies that I didn't hold her or get too much of her attention until Monday, when it was just the two of us again.  And there was a time change somewhere in the midst of all that.

Georgia is always an angel in the morning.  We laugh and play and giggle for a couple of hours.  It was perfect!  The rest of the day was pretty great too, although I noticed she wanted to be held so much more than usual.  She hated her Bumbo, Boppy, bouncy seat and activity mat.  She wouldn't hang out in her bed and watch her animals (mobile) which she usually loves to do.  So I put her in the Ergo and tried to get some stuff done around the house.  There were piles of laundry from our trip and my busy weekend, and as every mom or wife knows, there's always something that can be cleaned or picked up.

So our day was pretty great until about 3p.m.  Even though she refused to nap all morning, I did finally get her down...but only for 30 minutes.  It doesn't take a genius to know that an infant needs to nap more than 30 minutes in a day.  She was just fussy from 3 on.  By 5, I was exhausted.  I hadn't been able to do anything except hold her and try to entertain her, and I was failing miserably on the entertainment part.  We went through books, books, books, and all sorts of toys.  Sitting outside and petting the puppies was no consolation for my tired, grumpy baby.  Not even two walks to the park helped matters.

We usually start bath time between 6:30 and 7, but when David called to say he'd be working later than that, I decided to do it early to see if she'd calm down any.  Wow, it seems that trying to give her a bath was my big mistake.  As soon as we went into the bathroom she started howling and fussing, and making little fists and waving them at me.  I'm not kidding!

Usually if she's crying, we get her in the bath and start to play and it all turns out fine.  This time it only got worse!  I didn't even get to wet her washcloth and try to bath her, she was crying so hard.  She had tears streaming down her face and the next thing I knew, so did I.  So I got her out and wrapped her in a towel and we sat on the side of the tub crying, just the two of us. 

I'm not sure what her problem was, but I do know what mine was.  When I worked at a nine to five job, I always knew that I was doing a good job.  I knew because my boss was happy with my work and so were other people.  If I slacked off, it just hurt myself since I always had to play catch up later.



Now, in my new role as a stay at home mom, I try my hardest at everything all day long.  From the time Georgia wakes up at 6 a.m. until my pillow hits the head (and sometimes during the night, when she wakes up).  There's no slacking off, she is my job 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  She's a happy, peaceful baby and we generally just float along having a good day.  Even the so-so days when she's not feeling well or going through a growth spurt are OK. 

But days like Monday leave me second-guessing everything, including my parenting skills.  It's really difficult to know that you're doing the right thing when the only person who can validate you at the end of the day is looking right at you, with her little red face scrunched up and her mouth wide open screaming at the top of her lungs, even though you are pretty certain you've done everything "right" that you possibly can.

Add to that the disappointment with myself for never getting the load of laundry I started out of the washer into the dryer and folded, and the fact that there are toys strewn from the nursery to the living room.  I also didn't get a shower although, thankfully, I made it out of my PJs.  I only accomplished this by singing to Georgia and pretending my getting dressed was a game.  There was a hot, homemade dinner for David when he got home, but only because I was starving and didn't want to have to find my credit card for a pizza delivery.

We're having a much better day today, but it's only 1 p.m. as I draft this post, so we still have quite a ways to go until bedtime.  Hopefully both of us make it through bathtime with no tears.



Wondering why the dates in this post don't match up?  I drafted it Tuesday afternoon but didn't hit post until just now.