Math

What a difference a day makes.

The good feelings from Monday shriveled after yet another night with very little sleep. Tuesday seemed to unfold in one of those terrible-horrible-no-good-very-bad-day fashions, and for the most part, it was my fatigue and hormones that warped my attitude and my patience. Despite my awareness and predictability of the following equation, it still spirals me downward:

Fatigue and/or hormone fluctuations + whiny kid upon very early wake-up + minor complications (a short-term broken phone, two broken egg yolks, running late, a major f-up by our contractor, etc.) = mommy handling minor (and occasionally bigger) conflicts or issues with Anna with negative words rather than "love and logic," inappropriate or unfair time-out threats, and nit-picking = mommy beating herself up for poor parenting and not loving the present moment as well as mommy overanalyzing how my behavior is negatively impacting a particularly (at the moment) sensitive Anna = even more fatigue and bad attitude = tearful and apologetic mommy = roller coaster ride for us both until we get some quiet rest time.

I wish I could say this was a rarity for this pregnant stay-at-home mom, but in truth, this is more common than the idealistic moments of Monday. A friend of mine recently posted two quotes on her blog that come to mind:

"I barely make it most days. By the skin of my teeth, I pass. All my life I made straight A's but this mother thing. It's not something I want to just scrape by... and I feel like the gap is closing, what's shaping their behavior, and memories, and when they'll catch on." - from Adventures in Babywearing

And two excerpts from this one (worth the read!):

"I think parenting young children (and old ones, I've heard) is a little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it because they've heard there's magic in the climb. They try because they believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb are impressive accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it hurts and it's hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard. These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any climber will tell you that most of the climb is treacherous, exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up..." 

"My point is this. I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn't enjoying it enough. Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn't in parental ecstasy every hour of every day and I wasn't MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I'd wake up and the kids would be gone, and I'd be the old lady in the grocery store with my hand over my heart. Would I be able to say I enjoyed every moment? No."

Thankfully, those Monday-like moments do exist. If I can focus on those at the end of the day, remember them, appreciate them amidst a day full of Tuesday-like moments, I might even sleep more soundly at night...and the whole equation might shift, if only a little tiny bit.