Well we are out from under The Virus. Let's hope that's it for the season. Yesterday the baby was filling her pants with poop that resembled thick mustard but today, after nine days of pungent joy, it's a regular hard little turd. Halleigh-LU-YUH!
We were pretty much pottytrained too, before IT, and now we are not. As in, not at all! No potty action in this abode. No underwear. No sitting on the potty to practice. Just diaper change city all over again. And I am so defeated about it.
Also, because of all the T.V. and time spent in front of it last week, this week has been very full of whines and neediness on the part of the girl who now is not allowed to watch as much. She has forgotten how to play independently. She seems to need me every second and this is treated with impatience and a general scowl from mommy. When consulting the calendar today I realized that I am smack dab in the center of PMSville, which explains why I have been doing lots of things I don't want to do such as: making lots of threats and not following through, explaining her negative behaviors and how they're making mommy frustrated, and definitely not doling out enough positive attention. It's like I gave it all last week when they were really in the throes of sick and now I have no more to give. That's the thing about this job though. I don't have a choice, they still NEED ME. That in itself can be so overwhelming sometimes.
There's been lots of annoyance with the Jooge on my part, which I feel guilty about. Little things like her habit of asking "WHAT?" five times even though I know she heard me, or when she was interrupting me when I was trying to get something sorted out on the phone with PCC, (no, the locking of oneself in the bathroom momentarily DOES NOT WORK) and just generally the kicks on the changing pad, the fleeing when it's time to get dressed, the way her voice seems to have gone back a few notches into babyville. It's a vish-ass phase we're in right now. The terrible twos are real, and motherhood is officially the HARDEST.
Avery proves to be her own kind of challenge. She sucked on the end of the ipod USB. Ruined. Had to buy a new one. Today I caught her standing at the garbage can, opening it up, pulling out a toast remnant and popping it in her mouth. The girl doesn't sit still for long. I found her five steps up on the landing last week when I took The Jooge up to change a diarrhea dipe. I couldn't believe it. She is also a big fan of thrusting her head backwards into my chest in protest of whatever it is she doesn't like. Ouch. I am here to tell you that motherhood leaves bruises.
So what will I be doing to fill up my tank, you ask? How will this momma NOT resent her role, and be able to continue to occupy it sufficiently if not majestically? I will get over my frustrations. Just being able to vent really helps. Today I wrote in my journal instead of trying to corral the frisky post-bath daughter that wanted to run free. One night a week I will leave the house in the evening all alone to take an eight week class at PCC to learn how to paint. I have also booked a long weekend getaway to visit my brother and his girlfriend in L.A. in June. ALONE. I can't WAIT! These things are little presents to myself, permissions to escape FROM motherhood once in awhile. I need to be gone so I can miss it.