Some days I just feel defeated. I feel like nothing can possibly go right. The times when I go in the kitchen and realize I never put the milk I pumped in the fridge, let alone a cap on it. The times when I get in my car already late for everything and discover I have no gas. I feel like throwing in the towel, giving up, saying I have had enough. I cannot possibly do this one more day. Being a parent, I now have more of these days then I ever imagined trying to work, deal with daycare, keeping my marriage in one piece, and doing what feels like endless loads of laundry. Today was one of those days.
We had an awful weekend, I was getting over a terrible fever and was exhausted, weak, and not at my best. Mason we believe, though we do not have any little teeth buds to prove it, is teething.
Its the only possibility (or he is constipated - there were way fewer BMs this weekend then we are accustomed to :) He was cranky, crying for no reason, barely napped, fussed at everything - even food - the one thing he never, ever fussed at before. He was exhausting - it was by far our hardest weekend with him to date.
I kept thinking, where did my sweet little boy go? At the same time knowing that our luck would only take us so far and our dream baby was bound to turn on us or we were the luckiest parents on the planet. It took everything we had to actually eat dinner together and have conversations with one another after Mason went to bed each night - we had been going nonstop all day since 6am.
During the low points of the weekend, I loved him to no end but definitely was frustrated, not with him, but with the situation and myself - up until this point I could always calm him down - I could always fix everything - I was so dumbfounded each time all of my tricks (rocking, humming, singing) did not seem to work, he would just cry and cry until my husband would entertain him and he would stop crying and break a smile and even a giggle. He was noticeably not happy and pretty upset about something – what is was we had no idea – definitely not enough of an idea so we could fix it.
Unbelievably his best moments of the weekend were doing what we call "diaper time" where he lays on the bed in just a diaper and kicks, dances, and tries to roll over. We kiss his belly and blow raspberries on his belly button - he smiles and laughs to no end. In these moments, my heart reaches full capacity; he is easily the most amazing and adorable little boy in the world. And my husband is the most incredible father. And there we are, our little family, with no distractions, enjoying every second of each other.
No matter how bad it gets, there is always diaper time, there is always smiles, and even some giggles. I read somewhere that even if the day was terrible for you - it is their day too and you have the power to make their day amazing. It helps to take a step back and look at the laundry, label making, and mess of a house and realize that nothing else matters as long as he is happy, healthy, and loved.
