Cause I'd do anything for just a little. I'm snappy, I'm mean, I'm ignoring requests and cries and dirty feet. I'm even yelling. I realized today that out of nowhere I've turned into A Mean Mom. When did this happen? How? And what do I do to make it go away?
Since we've moved in we've been having cat problems. Hobbit's vet asked us to put him on a diet. He's about 5 lbs overweight. No surprises there. In the past I've just blown off the advice from various vets to control his eating. But lately I've noticed he's not jumping on couches and beds and counters as easily as he used to. I know he's getting older, he's almost 10, but if he shed a few pounds it might make up for his age, you know? So I consented to the wet-food-only diet of 1 can of Fancy Feast (specifically recommended, how weird is that?) twice a day. So Hobbit is hungry, all the time. Problem number 2: His potty box is out in the garage now. I refuse to have a litter box inside my house if there is a garage handy. I considered re-toilet-training him, but he refuses to go in the toilet if a human dares use it too, which renders an entire bathroom useless. So anyway, his box is in the garage, and we have no cat door, so we have to let him in and out. All last week he was going in and out up to five times a night. Unacceptable, especially since John falt-out refused to be the one to let the cat in/out. So I decided the other night, with John in Nashville, to lock Hobbit in the garage every night, and if he scratched at the door, I'd spray him with my water bottle.
Sunday night I got up 5 times to spray him, 3 of those times after 5 am. Then Jaina woke up at 6:30, so I was essentially awake for the day at 5. Last night he was quiet until 3:45. I thought it was a good sign. But at 3:45 he started HOWLING. I grabbed my water bottle, went to the door (the garage door is right next our bedroom door), but when I opened the door, Hobbit ran and hid under car, but continued howling. So I had to go all the way into the garage, turn on the light, hunt down the cat, and then spray him. Then he started in again at 5, then 5:30, then 5:45, then I gave up and let him in the house at 6, and he walked around crying about his stupid empty stomach. Then both girls woke up at 6:45. So once again I started my day at 5am. And Libby has been refusing naps lately, so I don't get those anymore.
Anyway, the reason I went into the whole cat thing was so you could understand why I am so tired. Literally bone-tired. I wake up each morning in physical pain because I am just that tired. When I drive to the store, I get lost, not remembering what street I turned on, or which direction I turned. When I have conversations or write emails, my vocabulary fails me. I forget words I use every day. I can't find the words to explain my feelings or my thoughts. When I try to find the right words, the only one that I can find is "Tired, so tired".
I forget to feed my children. I forget to feed myself. I forget to shower, to take out the trash, to start the dishwasher. I'm on edge, and the slightest thing sets me off. I don't think I've ever yelled at my kids this much. Even Jaina, who doesn't even understand what I'm saying, much less what she's done wrong. Libby has cabin fever thanks to all the rain, and I'm at a loss for how to keep her entertained.
And now reading over this, I'm crying, wondering how I got this way. And Libby walked up and saw my tears and said "Oh no, sad" then she climbed up on the couch next to me and patted my face and wiped my tears. And then she said "don't worry Mama, I'll get bandages", thinking in her sweet innocent way that all hurts can be fixed with a Band-Aid. And now she's scaling the washing machine trying to get to the first-aid kit for a "bandages" for her Mama. I told her I don't need bandages, that I need a hug and a kiss, and as she let me hold her and as she rubbed my back and said over and over "don't worry, Mama" I thought, "how can I be so unkind to this person who loves me so much, who needs me so much?" Someone who makes me laugh and who loves to play with her little sister and who runs to me for a hug when she's scared or hurt, and who trusts me when I tell her to jump from the tallest playground just because I say "I'll catch you, I promise". How can I be failing her now?
I know I'm not the only one who's had these weeks. I know you've all experienced similar days. What do you do about it? What helps? How do you go from being A Mean Mom back to A Great Mom? Not that I think of myself as A Great Mom, but I try, at least most of the time.
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3 comments:
First, give yourself some credit. You are pregnant and last time I checked I told everyone off including my in-laws (something they let me forget, luckily.)And Second, Children love their mommies even when they are slightly imperfect. You are wonderful except for the fact that you don't post enough pictures which really is quite selfish of you. I love you! Hope you are having fun out there!
I wish I had something great and wise to say, but mostly I can just commiserate. I've totally been there. I know exactly how you got here, though. It would be a zillion moves in a short time period, the last one just weeks ago, with a toddler and a baby AND you're pregnant. That would be enough to push even the calmest, sweetest mother over the edge. Then throw in the cat thing, John traveling, life in general (and did I mention you're PREGNANT?!?!) and then not sleeping to boot. It's a wonder you're not in the looney bin with all that going on. I surely would be. I'm a little too far away to baby-sit the kids so you get nap, but here's what you should do: wait and "starve" Hobbit when John is home. Everything will be easier to deal with when he's back. Let Libby watch her favorite movie tomorrow afternoon so you can get a nap. A good nap or a good night's sleep will do wonders. One thing I'm bad about doing is when I've turned into the mean mom (and I've been that way more times than I care to think about), is beat myself up because I was Mean. So then I feel worse, which makes me MORE irritable, not less and its a vicious cycle. I'm sure you're a lot better about that than I am. So I try to remind myself that even though I yelled 5 minutes ago, doesn't mean I'm horrible and it doesn't mean I have to yell 5 minutes from now. I just have to make a fresh start. Maybe there are some fun things Libby can do inside. Being trapped indoors can be the pits. I love the bathtub. Its our favorite rainy day toy. Let her put on her swimsuit and give her tons of toys and bubbles. Or buy some bubble stuff and let her blow bubbles in the tub. And sometimes I just have to lower my expectations. Sometimes loading up all the kids and taking them to the museum is just too much. But picking out a movie and watching it together is do-able. Or turning on our favorite songs and dancing in the living room (or watching them dance) is more my speed. Oh, and did I mention prayer? That works wonders too. :) Anyway, just know I love you, I miss you, and hope everything looks better tomorrow.
Mike described my residual stress from that time of my life as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. And he's right. It's traumatic to have small children, an expanding belly, a brain that is mush, a husband who travels... Sometimes you're going to lose it. Other times you are going to handle it with all the grace in the world. We have to take the bad with the good and just try to do better.
And reaching out to people who love you is a good thing. Feeding the cat at night is okay. Crying it out is good, too!
And I agree with Kristen. In Belgium when it was too cold to go outside in OCTOBER, the kids played in the bathub for literally hours every day. It's a great playground! Take a book, get a clear shower curtain to keep the water in, and relax.
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