I am writing this from a comfy chair at Starbucks.
This has been a trying week. I have been surrounded by stories of death, a guy I grew up around and a kid I had taught briefly. Both were sudden and unexpected. Both were heart-wrenching. I am also wrestling with some stuff that takes me back to my tumultuous childhood. My daughter has been ill. The culmination of everything has simply left me weary.
But enough about that.
Today my daughter was possessed by another creature. She was not my sweet baby. My day began with her crying out for me the MOMENT I sat in my chair with my much-needed cup of coffee, laden with my new chocolate raspberry creamer that I have been looking forward to trying. Now, this is a daily occurrence. Coffee is rarely consumed freshly brewed in my house.
After breakfast and a fairly normal morning, an early lunch and some potty-training revelations, I decided to walk with Bluebelle to our local library. Problem #1- they’ve rearranged. The parenting book section is no longer by the toddler toys and books. Problem #2 – my kid has seen said toys and books. Toddler starts grunting loudly. Problem #3- I think I can head off the tantrum by picking her up and getting my books. Ha. She runs to the toys. I follow. Problem #4- I realize stroller with wallet is now stranded down an aisle. I sprint back to get stroller in order not to lose my visual lock on her for more than 2 seconds. Problem #5- I foolishly think I can attempt to get books again. Repeat.
You get the drift.
Finally, I go to get her after she runs back to the toys again. Her back arches. Her face turns red. She has now been yelling and screaming for several minutes. I calmly collect her and I check out the 3 books (I am not even sure I want them) and I avoid the librarian’s gaze.
We want to play outside. We meltdown when we have to go in.
I go to lay her in her crib. She melts down. I notice she has peed all over her blanket and mattress. I pull her out and she “wins.” I change her bedding and lay her back down. She melts down again.
After 45 seconds, sleep ensues.
She wakes up after about an hour and a half, acting as though she has gotten no sleep. I am worried.
Tantrum after tantrum. Things were thrown. She was being extremely rough. The dog is cowering in fear. I decide to see if she would nap again. What do you think happens next? Yep. Meltdown.
After a trial period, I decide to break her out of her wooden prison and take her outside. We run, eat dirt, run away, meltdown when I redirect her, and then collapse in tears when I bring her back in after our 45 minutes outside.
Tonight, when she was covered in spaghetti sauce and trying to climb out of the bathtub before I could finish washing her face, I lost it. I called Todd. Complained that he’s never home. (In all fairness, he tries. This is my meltdown.) Begged him to come home NOW. I washed Belle and dried her off. I go to hang up her towel and she climbs back in the tub. I retrieve the towel again and re-dry her. She runs, streaking through the house. I remember that her special blankie is in the washer. Dang washer didn’t spin correctly. I try to fix it. Finally, I lose it and dump the overly wet bedding in the dryer. When I collapse on the couch, Belle decides to crawl up me and I realize she has gotten BACK into the spaghetti and now there is tomato sauce all over my shirt.
I packed my laptop and I was out the door before Todd was fully in it.
Some days are just like that.