Today was the worst morning I have had with my daughter.
In some ways this statement isn’t true: it was only one ugly incident rather than a whole morning or day where we were at odds. However it was a bad one and although she has moved on only minutes later I can’t do so as easily.
I feel lost. I call my husband to confess my failures as a mother. Again. I need to talk to him. I know it is unfair because it upsets and scares him but I can’t keep my sins to myself. To do that is death, fostering a wound to fester. After talking with him for five minutes I am somehow focussed yet in a minor state of shock. I speak cheerfully and set up crayons and drinks of water and busily haul laundry and pack the diaper bag, but inside I am in despair, thinking, a year of counseling and I still can’t trust myself? The more I talk about it the less I feel anyone cares. The more I talk about it the less I admire myself for “dealing with it” – because it’s still happening, I suppose.
I load my children in the car and pick up a friend’s little girl to head up to the park for the morning. The kids are great; the weather is lovely. I feel remote from the other young mothers around me. I wipe noses and change diapers and help little ones on the swings and the slide. I come home and help them wash hands and feed them and put them to bed.
The afternoon goes much better. I have committed to helping a girlfriend sew a jumper for herself and she arrives at one. She is relatively new to sewing but shows a lot of talent. We spend a few busy but relaxing hours together childfree (one of mine is with my Child Bride and the other sleeping in the other room). She has brought cocktails and we laugh a lot and work on a fun project. She isn’t close enough for me to even know how to talk to her about what’s bothering me. But it is good to have time off for a while and when my son arrives home and my daughter wakes up I am feeling better, a little bit.
Tonight is usually date night with my husband. Unfortunately, our surrogate Grandma is taking time off. I am sad. I could really use this time to sit across from him in a bar, take some deep breaths, and get out of my own head.