If Mama Ain't Happy...

Boy, does the saying "If Mama ain't happy, ain't no one happy" sure make sense.  Yesterday Ingrid woke up crying.  At everything.  I was super tired because she had gotten up a few times in the night, Brendan was tired because he was up watching TV late, so neither of us wanted to get up to deal with her.  We tried to entice her to come into bed and snuggle with us, but that kid is so particular.  She loves to snuggle in bed...with me.  If Brendan is near, she yells at him to get up, go take a shower, Daddy!  Since Brendan was not moving she threw a fit.  I followed suit and told her to get out of our room.  The morning just went downhill from there.

The whole day was LONG and sucky.  Lots of yelling, lots of tears and whining, nothing productive got done.  Brendan decided that it was a good idea to look at cars, although it was pouring down rain.  We went (why??) and Ingrid just wanted to splash in puddles.  When neither of us wanted to do the same she, you guessed it, threw a fit.  We went back home, she fell asleep for two seconds in the car but wouldn't sleep at home.  It was one of those rainy days that if you don't have kids is really nice and relaxing.  You can just curl up with a good book or veg in front of the TV.  But with kids it sucks.  Ingrid wanted to color, no play, no read books, no watch TV.  Her attention span was super short, her fuse was super short, we didn't really feel like playing with her anyway, so it just was not a good afternoon.

Fast forward to today!  Today I woke up to the same exact situation--Ingrid coming in our room and crying because Brendan was still in bed.  But today I felt rested and not sick, I was ready to get up and take her downstairs right away.  She has been happy and playing by herself all morning, ate some breakfast, sang some songs.  Ingrid has just been pleasant, a complete change from yesterday.  And why?  Because Mama is happy this  morning. 

It really sucks sometimes that that's the case.  Sometimes I'm just not in a good mood.  Especially being pregnant and tired and sick, I do not want to have the happiness of the household hanging on my shoulders.  Mamas need to be bitchy sometimes, too, you know?  I try my hardest to be patient and kind, but sometimes I just want to scream to Brendan to get his ass out of bed and deal with his daughter so his pregnant wife can get some rest.  Sometimes I just want to scream at Ingrid to quit her damn whining.  Sometimes I just don't feel like being the bigger person, but I know it's up to me to keep the mood light and happy.  Today that is easy, yesterday was not. 

Not So Good Mom Day...

Actually it's been weeks since I've felt like a good mom but today was horrible.  And it's only 3pm.  I haven't been taking my meds lately with all the puking going on, so I'm on edge.  I know you're not supposed to just stop altogether taking them, you're supposed to ease off them, and I didn't.  So I have been really bitchy and yelly and just having no patience.  On top of being sick and exhausted and getting fatter every day.  No good.

Today was the wakeup call--again--that I need to refocus on my parenting skills.  I remember these blissful times of baking with Ingrid, letting her make a mess, walking at a snail's pace letting her take in every part of nature she wanted.  I remember crafting with her, reading to her, playing with her, and her being happy.  I haven't felt that way in a long time. 

Lately it has been yelling at her to move her ass up the stairs before she pees her pants again, or to get back in bed for the fifth time and just go to sleep already, or to put down that cherry she's smearing all over the couch.  Our walks are hurried because it's hot and I'm wanting to go lay on the couch again.  I grab her arm and probably hurt her and why?  Because I'm focused on my needs and what I want to do at that moment.  I want to get around the block in less than a half hour, so I grab her, tell her to walk, make her cry, and feel like shit.

Today she would not take a nap because she said she had to poop.  But that is a worn out stall tactic most days, so I told her to go back to bed.  She got her toys, I took them away, she got her books, I took them away.  It was an hour of me yelling at her to get back in bed and close her eyes and go to sleep.  She just WOULD NOT do it!!!  I almost lost it, I just wanted to scream (who am I kidding, I did scream...)  So one more time in her room yelling, she cried and then started saying "I sorry mama, I sorry!"  I broke down in tears and hugged her and let her get out of the bed.  She clearly was not going to nap, why fight it?  And wouldn't you know, five minutes later she's running to the bathroom needing to poo--she hadn't been stalling at all. 

But how am I supposed to know that????  It's the boy who cried wolf, completely!  She says it every day at naptime, every night at bedtime, and it's only true about 5% of the time! 

Anyway, I feel like shit for all the yelling, I feel like I stopped being an attached parent somewhere along the way.  Now that she's not so dependent on me I just let her go about her way, forgetting she still needs me to listen to her and that our relationship can only be happy if we are both involved in it.  Why can't I remember this?  Why do I let things get out of hand and then have to come to this realization every few months? 

What a Difference a Day Makes...

This weekend sucked. Big time.  Ingrid is getting molars and is snotty, crabby, and not sleeping.  But I won't talk about sleep because it's the same old story--we're not getting any and I get pissy about it!  But then she'll sleep and I'll think we're through the worst of it and congratulate myself for getting over it, and then she won't sleep and I'll feel like I will never once get a full night sleep in my life...

However, this weekend also saw the return of yelly mama.  Not pretty, by anyone's standards.  I screamed more than once at Ingrid to pick up toys, and I'm not proud.  There is something so infuriating about her smirk she gives me when I say let's pick up.  She looks at me, turns away, and blatantly ignores me.  It just drives me crazy!  It's also my time to be a woman, and I forgot to take my pills for a couple days, we haven't gotten sleep, all leading to a very yelly mama. 

I hate when I get like that.  Why can't it be my nature to just be mellow and relax and not get upset?  But it's my nature to grab Ingrid and yell at her and force her to pick up, which really just makes her cry, makes my husband upset, and makes me cry and hate myself.  I have to tell myself to calm down and find another way, breathe, relax, be gentle and calm and kind.  It doesn't come naturally, and this weekend it didn't come at all.

I really don't want to get in the habit of yelling at Ingrid, I want to be that kinder, gentler person.  So I told myself no more yelling, no more going nuts, no more power struggles, no more!!  I calmed down, she calmed down, and when she woke up crying and wouldn't let me go last night, I laid on the couch in her room and just rubbed her back, listened to her breathe, and cherished the time I had to do this with her.  Someday she won't want me around, I am going to enjoy her wanting me even though it means I'm scrunched up on a love seat with a 30 lb. baby with her arms wrapped so tightly around my neck I can barely breathe. 

This morning I awoke with a new determination to get back to my better self.  And it has really been a great morning.  We've colored and Ingrid helped me wipe off the counter in the bathroom.  We made yummy oatmeal cookies with lots of cloves in them, and we read tons of books.  I have not once yelled at her, she has not once had a tantrum, and we are having a peaceful day. 

Oh, for the love of god...

I am officially starting this morning over.  Ingrid was up until 10pm last night, crying on and off.  I was trying to be calm about it, and mostly succeeded.  But at 10 when I was just about to doze off in bed, she started crying and I lost it.  EVERY SINGLE NIGHT??  Jeez...

So, after no sleep again, I was awoken to a whiny girl trying to open my door.  When she came in, she smelled suspiciously like poo, which Daddy mentioned but never changed...When I needed to go to the bathroom she whined.  When I needed to get my coffee she whined.  Oh, for the love of god, child, leave me alone for two seconds!  Let me wake up!! 

I got my coffee and then Brendan started rushing around the house looking for something he couldn't find.  I swear to god, every single morning he looks for something he needs and makes a mess searching for it.  I get up to help him and find it about two seconds later.  Why can't he ever find stuff???  And while I was helping find his phone, Ingrid decided to be curious about my cup of coffee that was on the table.  I came into the living room to see her looking all concerned and hearing a drip drip drip.  She had a diaper on, though, so she wasn't peeing.  What WAS that?

MY COFFEE!!  Spilling all over the table, the chair, the carpet.  Not a big deal usually, but WE ARE OUT OF COFFEE, there is no making more this morning until we get to the store!!  No sleep and no coffee?  You've got to be kidding me.  I lost it a little and yelled and Ingrid cried and then I felt bad.  She's curious, what is this magical elixir called coffee that mama and daddy are so fond of?  Can't blame her, she's a kid. 

So, after yelling and thankfully finding there was one more cup of coffee in the pot, I decided to start the morning over.  No more yelling, no more crabiness.  I'm going to drink this coffee and be nice mommy while we clean and pack for our trip to Grandma and Grandpa's house in Milwaukee.  Nice mommy, nice  mommy, nice mommy.  Deep breaths.