Well, it’s too late now….


Two and a half years in, and I sometimes still think I’m not cut out for this mommy stuff. While I can’t completely relate to the mother at Target, I certainly can relate to the author.

I am spent today. I’ve had to yell at my 2.5 year old twice – like more than a raised voice, actually not laughing through the anger kind of yelling. I felt helpless and worthless. Where is this coming from? How have I handled this before? What am I doing wrong? And worst of all…am I scarring her??

Mornings are rough. When R takes her to school, I make sure to have her ready to go when I know he has to leave. She drags her feet a little and whines and protests, but I can prod her along and distract her with fun conversation so that she forgets that she didn’t want to brush her teeth. But when it’s his turn, it’s like The Twilight Zone. Every single motion is a battle and she cries for me and he dawdles anyway and I wind up mad. And late to work every single time. This morning was worse than normal – she didn’t want ANYTHING to do with him. I mumbled something about “way to be a parent” and stomped away to finish getting ready, stubbornly telling myself that he would just have to deal with it. Cut to 10 minutes later, and he’s got her in time out (which we don’t really even use) and then he asks her if she’s ready to brush. Spoiler alert, she said no and I was again late. Oh, and to make matters worse, I was so angry that my anger spilled over to R and I huffed out of the house with barely a goodbye….I hate that.

But…tonight was way worse. Q and I had a talk on our way home from school about what it means to be a good girl, why it’s important to have a routine and do things like brush our teeth – no one likes the stinky kid! Everything was going swimmingly; we even discussed that it was bath night and how we wanted to be in our best condition for school pictures tomorrow. Dinner? No problem! Going upstairs? Made a game of it! A little nakey running? Hey, why not?! But then it was time to get in the shower. My little fishy that cried when it was time to GET OUT of the pool at swim class was hysterical and kicking and screeching and clawing. I literally sat down on the bathroom floor and cried.

I’ll spare you the details of how we got her clean, and then SHE ASKED to brush her teeth…

As I’ve said before, I thought I didn’t want kids (see She Is…) but Q is my everything. So how can I feel like a complete failure when it comes to her? And why do I feel like sometimes I just can’t do it? I feel like a terrible person and an even worse parent.

Some may say it comes with the job; some may say that I don’t have enough patience. I guess what I’ll do is take a deep breath, pour a glass of wine, turn on the monitor and watch her sleep. Then, I will go to bed. And when I wake up in the morning, I’ll start from scratch and hope for the best.


Funny that you should say that….

My kid, seriously, she’s a riot!

This morning, as we were driving to daycare, we were chatting about our house and the winter and life in general.  She confides in me that she must practice her ‘scoops’ – the arm movement she learned in last year’s swim class.

I asked her if she planned on going swimming anytime soon, as the weather was getting much cooler already.  She told me that she thought we should have a pool at our house.  I told her, quite honestly, that pools are very expensive and cost a lot of money.

She paused, and then very matter-of-factly stated, “Mommy, I have a lot of money.  It’s in my money cup.”

Well Q, I don’t think 3 quarters and a penny will buy us a pool, but the offer was appreciated!

She is…

I thought I didn’t want kids.  I thought that for a very long time.  I felt very awkward and uncomfortable around small children, and especially babies.  And, as I got older, I found that I felt “too selfish” to have children.

I like being the center of attention.  I don’t like to share.

And then I met Ry, and we had “the talk” and he definitely wanted kids.  Uh oh.  And then I think I convinced myself that it may be kind of cool to create something that was part him and part me – I think I heard that in a movie once.

But secretly, deep down, I was still unsure.  Would I feel empty or alone if I didn’t have them?  Would people judge me for not having them?  Would I feel unimportant or secondary if I did have them?

I struggled with this for a really long time.  And then life got all weird and I was getting older and we just never got around to talking about it.  So somewhere along the way, we weren’t trying, but we weren’t not trying – you know?  And during this period of time, it was a constant volley of yes and no.

Two months after moving into our house, BOOM, there she blows!  Cue all the worry of above in addition to:  Could I do it?  Would I be a good mom?  How was I going to handle labor?  What about my anxiety? And so on and on and on and on….

Blah, blah, blah.  I remember life before Quinn.  It was fun and new and exciting.  Every day could be something new.  Fast forward to now, two and a half years later.  Life is MORE fun and new and exciting.  Every day IS something new.  Now that she’s here, I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

She’s my one and only, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Having her gave me the best of both worlds and answered all those questions of doubt and wonder.  Sometimes, you don’t know the right choice until after you’ve already made it. ♥


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