This is the story of Tuesday. Most of the time I feel I have a good handle on my son’s needs and Tuesday was the day he threw me a curve ball. Tuesday was the latest day to remind me that I’m clearly not ready to remove my new parent training wheels.
M away for work so I was flying solo for the morning routine. I laid out his clothes, packed snacks and the daycare bag the night before – look at me, adulting like a champ! Now all I’ve got to do in the morning is get us both dressed, fed and out the door in under an hour. I’ve completely got this.
You see it coming don’t you? I didn’t got this. Not at all.
Tuesday morning my normally sunny even tempered son had multiple tantrums, that to my new neighbors probably just sounded like 45 minutes of screaming at 6AM. Oh my god, I bet we will all be such good friends! Nothing starts a friendship better than hysterical children crying first thing in the morning, right? Right?
I end up with him on my lap spooning porridge into his mouth, with regular breaks for bellows that sound like a constipated walrus.I burst into tears when the cat meows inquiringly from the stairs and suddenly Bear is all smiles. Great. There is now porridge all over my shirt (rookie mistake getting dressed before breakfast. You’re better than that dammit) and the cat is a better parent than me. Fan-friggin-tastic.
Right. We are in the car. We are heading to daycare. A little late, but still. Go Team!!!
Finally I get in the car to drive to work and I feel.. relief. And guilt. Always guilt. My dirty little secret is at the moment there are a lot of days I prefer being at work over being a mum. Fixing a computer seems so much easier than calming a tiny person who can’t tell you what’s wrong or where it hurts. I know that tears and tantrums are a regular part of parenting a toddler. I know that with the move, and his dad being away we were primed and ready for the mother of all meltdowns. But still the sanctimummy in my head is telling me it’s my fault. I feel guilty because if I didn’t work, if I had that extra time with him, maybe just maybe I would understand what he is trying to tell me. I’m frustrated and sad because he’s trying to tell me what he needs and I’m just not getting it. That as a working mother, I am constantly letting someone down.