Lots of Love

Working part time has taught me a lot about my parenting. I can see I’m overly cautious here, a little slack there. My patience & temper have been put to the test – soooo much. I have bursts of pride, complete joy & contentment; but most of all I have felt like the worst parent in the entire world.

I love Charli beyond anything I could have comprehended. I adore her cheeky little personality, crave her attention at times & find myself in absolute awe of so many things she does big & small. I also don’t love every minute of being her mother. There are days where I simply do not enjoy being at home with the tiny she-beast. My 21-month old is a whole different ball game from the 6 month old baby that went into full time care as I went back to full time work. 

I am now blessed with 5 days a fortnight of pure Charli. I say blessed because I am, the opportunity to work part time & still get along okay financially isn’t one a lot of Mumma’s have. So I have felt nothing short of outrageous guilt every time I have willed those days to go faster, for 5 o’clock when Daddy gets home or 7 o’clock bed time.

Maybe I truly am a shoddy mother. Or maybe there are a whole lot of other Mumma’s out there that feel the same but I can’t seem to fall in love with her age right now. Don’t get me wrong - she is so much fun & joy; full of discovery & simple delights. Right now though that discovery seems to revolve around pushing the limits on everything & those delights are like tiny delicate flower petals that can quickly be stomped by a rampaging elephant (that’d be Charli). 

Tonight was a perfect example of the trampled delight… we had chicken & veggies for dinner. Chicken is Charli’s favourite. She sat on the bench as I served up onto plates, excitedly exclaiming “Chic-kun!” the entire time. I then had to cut up her chicken & that was just taking too damn long apparently. Within a matter of seconds her world had fallen apart & there were real tears happening. I went through my usual motions; explaining – “Mummy’s just got to cut it up Char, look.” Distracting - Trying to count the number of cuts I was doing while showing her & talking about getting her bib & spoon, then hopping in the chair. Reasoning - “Charli, you’re being silly now, your dinner is right here, it will just be a minute” I was finally able to get the blubbering to end after sitting her in her chair & giving her the plate. I stupidly thought we were okay then, that she was probably just hungry & tired from day care so unable to express herself well. But nope. Having hoovered her Chicken, artfully avoiding any vegetables, Charli was now just bashing the plate with her spoon. I asked if she would like some more. I got a no, to which I took the plate from her tray. Cue “Losing her shit part 2”

Fearing there had been a miscommunication I set her tray in front of her again – another, more insistent no. Plate Removal. SCREAMING. High pitched, intense screaming. I raised my voice now, over the top of her, asking if she wanted some more. A warbled no. Stiffened out limbs. Tears absolutely streaming down her face. I cleaned her up, got her out of her chair & set her free, expecting her to calm down. Again, silly me. 

The tantrum continued & that was enough for me - into the cot she went to scream on her own until I thought I would finally be able to go in & see the kid I kinda like laying there, ready to be a nice human. I was in fact wrong & the tiny possessed she-devil started screaming at me again, resisting being taken out of the cot. So I walked away. I vacuumed my floors to drown out the screams. When I started mopping she had calmed right down & came to me out of the cot snuggling into my neck with big heavy “I just screamed my lungs out, I’m exhausted” sighs, then happily exclaimed “Awe, floors!!! Wet!” like she hadn’t just lost her mind for the past 20 minutes. 

I know this is kids. I get that. But for me, this is going to be where I struggle as a Mum. I struggle to keep her occupied enough when we are at home 3 days in a row. I struggle to not be stubborn & annoyed when she refuses to try new foods or let me show her how to do things. I struggle not to stress out. I struggle to do another puzzle, for the 1000th time that day. Sometimes, I leave it be. Sometimes I discipline. Sometimes I wish for some time to pass & fast.

I love my little girl. Give me baby stages, give me kid stages. Toddlers suck.

Please note I’m not sure I’ll adore teenage stages either…

Kudos to all of the Mummies that don’t skip a beat & to all of the daycare workers who look after multiple feral little spawns of satan day in & out. I don’t know how you do it.

For me these days are filled with joy, exasperation, giggles, irritation but most important of all, it’s filled with lots of love & that’s all the matters.