Not Every Day Is About Dancing And Giggles

Today's Facebook Update: Today has proven it will be a challenge. Let's see how I do.

Boy, calling today a challenge was an understatement. I am pretty sure what happened was I had a mental breakdown! Last night started out as any other, I fell asleep in my recliner while my husband fell asleep on the couch as we watched the X-Files on Netflix. I got up and went to bed, leaving James to rest on the couch. I usually can sleep 2-3 hours before I wake up to go to the bathroom for the first time. Once I get up and do my business I can usually zonk right back out. Sometimes I may require a few different positions with the pillows and what not. Not last night.

I slept for an hour and woke up feeling like I couldn't breathe. I went to the bathroom and back to bed, attempting my usual routine of trying to get comfortable but nothing seemed to do the trick. Evalyn's foot was high up in a rib and she was kicking with all of her force. After a night of attempting many different maneuvers and positions to move my little one around, I finally fell back to sleep around 6:30 a.m. ... only to wake up at 7:30 a.m. and realize that I had to get up for the day. My first thoughts were that I really hoped Loreli was in a good mood so the day would go by easily. Not today.

Loreli woke up at almost exactly 8:00 a.m. crabby as ever. I figured I would attempt to eat breakfast quickly before James strolled off to work but as half our dishes were dirty there was not one clean bowl or spoon to be found (James painted the nursery the day before and the fumes had seeped into the kitchen so I stayed clear of both rooms until this morning). As James showered, got the garbage out and got collected for his day of work I spent the first 45 minutes of my morning hovered over the sink (feeling like my back was going to break) doing dishes and trying to get my one year old to eat something. Loreli wasn't in the mood to eat anything... except of course a chocolate cookie. James left before the dishes were done but he was able to wash Miss Cookie Face off for me before heading out the door.

Almost two hours into my day and I had a ragging headache, my body was sore all over, I had finally cleaned up the entire kitchen (all of the nursery stuff which had been piled into the kitchen) and my daughter had successfully eaten A cookie... but I was still starving! I finally sat down to enjoy a bowl of Wheaties, juice and my pre-natal vitamin. Of course I had to shove them down my throat as fast as possible so that the former Miss Cookie Face now Miss Trouble Maker could have my undivided attention. USUALLY when I turn on her favorite Baby Einstein DVD she will sit for at least a good half hour. Not today.

The doctor advised me yesterday to drink more water so I guzzled down 2 1/2 bottles of water by noon. Of course that means that I also went to the bathroom about a million times. Each and every time I went to the bathroom Miss Trouble Maker decided to climb the barricade I created and mess with the remotes and telephone. By noon she had done this numerous times on top of climbing her Cozy Coupe (which I repeatedly told her not to)and falling over with it on top of her, lifting the vents in the floor (which I repeatedly told her not to) and throwing toys into the hole, and a list of other naughty acts.

I mentally checked out and for a brief time and became the parent I always said I would never be. I resorted to spanking... which had no effect. I resorted to screaming at the top of my lungs... which had no effect. In fact the first time I screamed, my daughter looked up at me with a blank look and continued on her way. The second time that I screamed she looked me in the eyes and laughed at me. This is when I began to cry... no, I began to sob. Why today?

Thoughts ran through my head that I never in a million years would have thought I of all people would think. I wished I wasn't a mom. I wished I never had children. I actually wished I could go to a job and have someone else raise my kid just so that I could get away. Part of me wanted to get my jacket on and walk out the door and leave her in the house alone. This was my official breakdown. James came home early from work shortly after. I cried to him and told him about the day and the thoughts that I had. I asked, "What kind of a mother thinks those things about her own child? What kind of parent screams like that at a one year old???" I told him that I felt like a failure. I don't bring in any money to the household and my one duty is to care for our daughter and I couldn't even handle that. My feelings of failure were causing me to become terrified of how I will possibly handle this with a newborn.

As I began to sob again my husband did exactly what I needed him to do in that moment. He put his arms around me and held me tight and explained to me, "The kind of mother who does that is the kind who hasn't had any sleep, who is 8 months pregnant and works too hard to keep up with herself. It's ok, it happens." James then gave me a kiss and all of my self doubt seemed to disappear.

Our one year old continued on her rampage for the day. As we went through the nursery sorting what had to go, what had to stay and where to put it, Loreli was determined to scream and moan and groan for nearly two hours straight. We tried everything from attempting to feed her all of her favorite foods (which she wanted nothing to do with... except A chocolate cookie), her diaper was changed, she didn't want to play... we didn't know what in the world to do. She wasn't showing the usual signs of teething, she hadn't eaten anything out of the ordinary in the last 24 hours that would create any sort of tummy ache... we went through the possibilities and were lost in finding an answer. After all of this screaming I was determined that she must have one hell of a headache by then and James gave her a tiny bit of Tylenol.

Shortly after receiving the Tylenol our little monster who was sitting in her Daddy's lap leaned over and fell right to sleep. Peace at last! Of course as soon as I had peace and quiet I wasn't able to fall asleep myself. I feel so incredibly guilty for how I treated my daughter today. My actions go against everything I stand for as a mother. There have been plenty of other times in which I was sleep deprived and not feeling good that I was able to calmly and rationally handle my daughters tantrums. It was rough, but I handled it. Today I most definitely flipped my lid.

As my daughter slept and I saw that devil child turn back into my sweet little angel, I thought to myself that every parent must have a moment at some point in their child's life in which they crack. This was certainly my first and more than likely in the next 20 years it won't be my last. I think that parenting is the hardest thing a person can do and I need to keep in mind that it is my 24/7 job.

My husband was understanding enough to excuse my behavior and come home and help out today but I can't let this happen again. I need to find a way to center myself, put my own physical discomforts aside and focus on why my child behaves the way that she does. More importantly I think that I cannot go into the arrival of my second child with any fear of failure in caring for two on my own because that is only setting myself up to do exactly that... fail. Today I reached my weakest point and I need to do my best to not look back.