Today was one of those days where you start out thinking that maybe, just maybe you’ve got this whole parenthood thing down and then that idea goes straight into the crapper.
Yesterday, we had a really good day. Lorelei took a nice long nap in the morning, she behaved herself really well while were grocery shopping and then took a nice long nap in the afternoon. We went swimming kind of late and, as usual, she was having the time of her life. She pretty much passed out as soon as she was fed and then didn’t wake up until seven this morning (not counting the few times she had binky-related whine issues). And I had a pretty good night, too.
So, I was feeling good. Until I’d been up for about two hours and as I was standing there changing her diaper for the millionth time this morning, I had this sudden wave of nausea. We’re talking food poisoning-level nausea. I rushed to get her dressed again and down off the changing table so I could dry heave over the toilet for a few minutes. Now, I know my body. Sometimes when I don’t eat frequently enough I can get that want-to-throw-up-feeling plus shaky hands. Just so we’re clear, that was not what this was. I had eaten (and recently). I spent most of the day wanting to die, but joy-of-joys I’m a stay at home mom and I got to take care of another person all day. Did I mention that the husband was teaching his test-prep class tonight? And that he had the car? So, there I was trapped at home, feeling like I was going to pass out and so fucking angry at Brian.
I whine a lot. I know this. But when I say I feel sick and shaky and then you give me that “Why don’t you have a snack?” line as if that will magically cure everything, I tend to react badly.
I could have done it. I could have made it through the day but as I was sitting there trying to feed Lorelei her pureed veggies for dinner, I couldn’t stop my shaking hands. And what was worse, I was afraid that I would end up hurting her. Unintentionally, of course. I would lose my balance as I was carrying her back to her room. And I know that there are plenty of other parents who have to take care of their children while they’re sick, but I already did it for six days while Brian was out of town and I had the flu. Maybe it’s selfish of me to want him to come home, to want him to find a way to be there for me so that I don’t always feel like I’m doing it all, but today I really needed that.
I don’t like seeing my hands shake in weakness but I like it even less when they shake with anger. I could feel this rage building up inside of me. I was so sick of being crawled on all day long. By the baby, by the cats. Sick of hearing her whine for no discernible reason. I was so sick of putting on that happy, everything is fine face. Everything is not fine. And I don’t know how to fix it.