Today turned into a bit of a rough day. I think the problem is that I was wanting my life back. I love being a Mom, but I often catch myself trying to find a way around Tobias.
Tiffany and I were talking yesterday about how it’s not that you can’t do the things you want- it’s that you can’t do them in exactly the way you’d like. I can’t set up my stuff and practice for 3 hours, have some lunch, and put in a couple more.
The thing is, I’m selfish and stubborn and that has been translating into me deciding I might as well just not do things if I can’t do them “right”. Why even start cleaning the bathroom if I won’t have time to scrub all the grout with a toothbrush? What point is there in practicing if I’m limited to 15-20 minutes?
I want to enjoy the kid all the time like I do in my better moments. To pick him up slowly, rub his back, catch his eye and make him giggle, watch the ladies smile at him across the supermarket aisle. Instead I’m more likely orchestrating a way to have him continue to ride quietly from chore to chore or entertain himself while I perform some inane task. This is it- the golden time. He will look me in the eye, I can be the center of his world, I can change the way his gray matter squiggles.
Parenthood is such a strange amalgam of intense emotion, physical demands, and guilty attemps to placate, distract and appease.
The wierd knife one and the blue one are from the ferry from Nanaimo to Vancouver. A lovely ride.