Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Sometimes I Suck
There. I said it. Sometimes I just plain suck.
I'm trying to be strong, powerful and an incredible woman. I'm trying to be the most amazing mother. I'm trying to be a fantastic wife. I'm trying to be a loyal and involved daughter, sister and aunt. I'm trying to find the right people to be the kind of friend for that I thrive on being.
Sometimes I drop the ball.
Sometimes I suck.
Yesterday I had this post rattling around in my head and I thought to myself, G-d, woman, what kind of mother ARE you? This would be after I went upstairs to go to the bathroom, and actually LOCKED the door behind me. Don't worry - my husband was home already. I wasn't hiding from the child, though I would have loved to. I double-checked the door as the latch is wonky, and seriously, one of my biggest cats can open the door when it's not truly and thoroughly latched. I really don't enjoy having the door sprung open on my while I'm sitting there in the midst of my business. Not that anyone does, of course.
Well, a few minutes into things, if that (I'll admit, I was idling. I was on the iPad, taking my time) my daughter knocks heavily on the door. HEAVILY. I tell her I can't open the door, and I'll be downstairs in a minute. She gets quiet, and suddenly storms through the door. I mean, literally STORMS through that sucker. It was locked. What the he!!?
I was PI$$ED. Steamed. Seriously ticked off. "GO!" I screamed. "Close that door!" She looked at me like a deer in the headlights. "Close it! NOW!"
My anger level was ridiculous. I mean, for goodness sake, she is THREE. What the hell was wrong with me? What the hell IS wrong with me?
Sigh. Literally. I am heavily sighing right now.
Sometimes I just look at her and feel happier than I could have ever imagined, and other times, though I am still looking at her with that same feeling in my heart, I am so frustrated that I don't know who I turn into. It's like a crazy anxiety streaks through me, and I just don't have the right way to respond rationally and remember that she is a CHILD. MY CHILD.
MY THREE YEAR OLD CHILD.
So - what is wrong with me? I won't even get into the mindset that comes after the crash of anxiety leaves me, and I feel sad, hurtful and hurt. I look at her sweet little face (as mischievous as she may be, she's still my little sweetie) and feel like crap. I start questioning how it's possible I have stayed home with her for her entire life. Yes, almost four years. Not driving. How much am I cheating her out of? What is she getting at home with me everyday, when I end up yelling at the poor kid? Double or triple sigh.
Anyway, that's where I'm at. We have had a great day so far today. Our Wii Fit arrived this morning and we spent some time laughing, working out, and moving our booties. It's been fun, and despite my congested head and turning on Olivia and Little Bill (yes, Twitter friends, AGAIN) for her so she could eat lunch in front of the tube while I made myself some tea, we haven't had any iffy moments - yet. I guess most of them come later in the day. I suppose when I just am losing it, losing my grip on the day, waiting for my husband to come home, and so forth. But how to make them stop ... or are they normal? I don't know. All I know is they suck when they happen. And I totally feel like *I* suck, too.
Yours in suckky-ness ...
p.s. Almost forgot to say I'm linking up with Shell this week for Pour Your Heart Out.