"Oh, Grace" weren't my exact words. Perhaps shit was said, or the ever popular f-bomb. Maybe both. If ever there were a day that demanded a slew of poorly strung together unmentionables, today was that day.
Yesterday was surgery day and today I'm left with a Vicodin hangover and an over sized q-tip in place of an operational middle finger. What (outside from flipping the bird) do you so desperately need a middle finger for? On your dominate hand - everyfuckingthing.
And so, Grace picked tonight to have her biggest tantrum/meltdown to date. It lasted a full 20 minutes in the car and a kept on going when we arrived home. I'm not talking ''hissy fit" I'm talking full sobs with intermittent 'crying so hard I might vomit' gagging and incessant thrashing about the back seat. It didn't stop once home. After dragging a seriously pissed of miniature Exorcist up the drive way down a finger, I was mystified as to how grace punches, kicks and bites all at once. Totally Mommy beat-down.
Ryan greeted us at the door, not realizing what he'd be facing. Enter hysterical toddler and totally fed up mother. I tried to calmly talking to her and got slapped in the face. I tried letting her cry it out and she threw our kitchen chair at the wall. I put on my firm "thats enough" voice and tried an old fashioned time out (a first in this house), and Grace attempted to rip my already ailing finger off. What happened next surprised even Grace. I sat right down with her on the kitchen floor and sobbed.
Oddly, this calmed Grace. Ryan stepped in a took Grace upstairs. Clearly, I was cashed out. The next 20 minutes were filled with blissful giggles coming from the upstairs tub. At one point, after my own blubbering had commenced, I went upstairs to join the fun.
Queue the hysterics. Grace. Hates. My. Guts.
After a brief "she only does that when you're around" I was just about good on today's bullshit.
Looking forward to another victorious day in nine fingered Motherhood tomorrow and praying that Grace wakes up of the i love mom and don't want to drive her crazy right side of the bed.
Grace has two speeds - 100% health, totally crazy toddler mode, which involves very little listening, quite a bit of whining and more Yo Gabba Gabba than a sane adult can take. Then, there is sickly Grace. Sickly Grace intermittently smiles, trys to boogie to Yo Gabba Gabba, and only has taste for bananas and Ritz crackers. That particular brand of Grace involves a lot of snot, 10-20 diapers and a whole lot of "it hurrrrts" and "no morrrrre"'s. Yo Gabba Gabba still occupies the air waves, but it doesn't bring the normal giggles it usually does and that is when you know Grace is under the weather.
There is only one thing that can make Grace feel even remotely better on days like this and its cuddles; head on the shoulder, soft cooing, overly warm and a little sweaty, cuddles. Add a slightly matted nene (g's name for her special blanket) to the equation and some seriously bad toddler halitosis and you've got my favorite kind of day. Something about the intense love this kid dishes out and the way she needs me when she's under the weather just melts my heart and I secretly wish it would last forever.
I'd like to add here that Grace ONLY wants to cuddle with me when she's sick, which is a super diss to Ryan. Normally I don't like to brag, but something about this just makes me want to shout from the roof top "Na Na Na Na POO POO!". Sorry sucka babe!
This type of magical day only works if I'm not sick as well. Of course yesterday's snuggle-a-thon had repercussions and I'm paying the piper today. Grace is back to her old tricks and I'm concerned that they may have to amputate my nose due to excessive stuffiness. I've been in PJ's all day, moving from the couch only when absolutely necessary, like to pay the pizza guy. Grace wants nothing to do with me, understandably so. Who wants to snuggle with a sick person. Oh, wait.
I'll be the first to admit that generally speaking, I'm a bit of a Negative Nancy. I spend a fair amount of time dwelling on how much better my life would be if I just had . The blank is often filled with money signs, faster cars, sprawling homes with room to spare, and eager babysitters. The aforementioned luxuries aren't things we're terribly lost without but on any given Wednesday, it doesn't hurt to wish a little.
This past month and a half has felt a little like one catastrophic fuck fest after the next. (sorry for the language folks, but this is real and I say fuck - a lot.) Without going into too much detail, I'll sum it up in a few words and you can fill in the blanks: job loss, oral surgery, panic attacks, terrible twos, stolen wallets, broke down cars, overdraft fees, and more oral surgery. Am I leaving anything out? Oh yeah, contaminated cortisone shots a la Michigan Pain Specialists and a spinal tap to boot for my poor dad. Like I said - fuck fest.
If there is one minutely not totally fucking shitty thing about times of crisis, it's their inherit ability to bring people together. I've said it before and I'll say it again, my family is seriously legit. We pull together and help each other out when things get bad and usually come out things pretty alright. These shitty times also serve as a reminder of how good we really had it, before what ever adversity ensued. By the end of the week, I'm longing for our small house and empty bank account.
This month was particularly crappy, but I'm sure it beat the hell out of someone else's week. Fortunately, surgery went well and Dad's test came back good. For the first time in a long while, I'm feeling really happy. Happy to be sitting my warm house with my little girl nibbling crackers next to me. Happy to have a family who supports and loves me and a fella at home who will make soup and fetch me medicine. It's so difficult to be thankful in the moment, but I'm working on it.
Tomorrow
marks yet another first for Grace and I. This one is much more
enjoyable than many of those that have come before it; better than the
first diaper, the first ER trip, the first curse word or the first spanking. Much better. Our first "Mommy and Me" class is tomorrow, and I'm geeked!!
I've
laid G's clothes out and prepped her bag and snack. Yes, I'm taking it
a little too seriously and treating it more like her first day of
elementary school instead of the chaperoned hour and a half of mommy and
me madness that it is. But, I'm still super excited.
The excitement isn't without a little anxiety. Grace isn't the best share-er. Sometimes she gets a little slappy and she has been know to let out an unintentional, ill-advised "shiit".
Sometimes she rips her clothes of and runs around nude yelling "OK!",
and if she's bored with you or whatever activity you're peddling she
might give you the death stare. Remember this gem? - Not much has changed, she's only perfected it.
That
being said, she is adorable and funny and totally fearless. A school
like environment should be a welcomed change for Grace. If she doesn't bitch slap, bite, or curse out any of the other 2-4 year olds, we're good.
It occurred to me today, while picking pieces of dinosaur spaghetti out of my daughters hair, how little time I spend doing things I want to do. I'm not talking about going to the movies or the long forgotten ladies nights, but I'm talking about just relaxing and savoring the few moments in life that are truly enjoyable. There are so few things these days that aren't a total drag, that it seems a damn shame not to take a second for myself and soak in the not so sucky.
Lets take Grace for instance; my adorable two year old handful. If only evident by the lack of blogging or baby booking I've done over the last year, I'd say I'm too busy for my own good. I work 4 days a week, and have side jobs the on my two days off. Family day is supposed to be Sunday, but I usually turn into a Momzilla well before noon. Between grocery shopping, cleaning, laundry, and the scant few moments of strained relaxation, I barely have time to stress the whole family out by cramming in a trip to the zoo or a play date at Jungle Hell Java. The phrase "Well Grace deserves a fun family day.." always comes into play, typically right after a missed nap or a series of catastrophic bank overdraft fees. By the time said forced family outing begins, everybody is pissed and Grace is giving me the "why are my parents so crappy" look.
And tonight before bedtime, after a grueling day of last minute baking and preparations for this weekend's work commitments, it hit me. Flustered and annoyed, and ready to put this day behind me, I noticed how delicate Grace's little face is. Her tiny little nose and pouty lips, and perfectly pink cheeks. She won't be like this much longer; young and needy. And as we exchanged our little goodnight rituals, tucking in each other with her beloved nene and a few "eyyye luu you!"'s, I realized that this was the happiest I'd been all week.
I can't be certain what the next few weeks or months will bring, but I need to be around Grace more and spend less time stressing things that aren't important. I have the rest of my life to work my ass off, but G will only want to cuddle her Momma for so long.
It been a really long time since I regularly posted here, and it makes me feel like a pile of shit crap. Plenty of stuff is happening; G is growing, talking up a storm, and constantly getting into trouble. She has changed so much over the past few months and I have so many little gems to write about, but have NO time! Between work, side jobs, trouble shooting the toddler years, and the on going potty training battle, I'm really crapping the ol' bed on recording the precious moments. And this just in, Grace turns two in less than a month!! WHAT THE HECK!!!
Today, while on my way to the dreaded Kroger, I passed Babies R' Us and got a little emotional. Don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely frickin' thrilled to be post baby. Babies are cute and cuddly, they dish out the 'ohh's' and 'goo's' like nobody's business, and they smell like sweet milk. Toddlers who sleep the night, feed themselves, and poop in the potty at least 12% of the time are even cuter. It took a long time for us to get Grace to this place of minimal self sufficiency and we love it. Oh, and I'm like the anti-christ on anything less than 7 hours of sleep.
But, passing Babies R' Us still touched a nerve. I really don't need much from that store anymore. No more bottles, no bibs or cute little newborn clothes. Grace walks most places we go and usually sits at the table, eliminating the over priced boosters and strollers. Jars of food, Puffs, and formula are long gone. Grace shops at Target, just like her Mama, and enjoys a happy meal from time to time. We're almost out of the diaper stage, and already wearing some little girl's clothes. Could this be the end of an era?
Grace isn't a baby, she's a kid.
But as they say, the grass is always greener, and you always want what you don't have. Suddenly after battling our way through the last two years, one sleepless night after another, scarlet fever, scrapped knees, and bottle after frickin bottle, how could I be feeling the urge to go back? Probably because that crisp green grass is fertilized with bullshit, oh and motherhood amnesia.
Making it through the first two years of parenthood demands a metal of honor, or at least one of those cheesy girl scout patches. Getting through the trials and tribulations of interpreting baby shit and pacifying the colicky baby isn't for the faint of heart. Sure they're adorable; who among us would disagree? But no amount of cute makes a five night sleepless crying bender any less sucky.
I'm sure at some point the scars of the baby years will fade and I'll forget just how painful the miracle of life was, and I'll be ready for another. But until then, I'll continue to fantasize about cuddling babies, the smell of newborn hair, the toothless little grins and the soft coo's of a sleeping infant, sans the sleepless nights, vomit stained shirts, and irrational screaming fits.
Oh, and if I could just skip the whole labor and delivery bit next time too, that would be terrific. K, thanks.
It isn't often these days that Grace offers up a ton of cuddles, but when she does - we totally soak them up. This afternoon's cuddles came around nap time after Grace passed out on our way back home. Miraculously, we were able to transport her from car to crib pretty seamlessly, but not before snuggling the crap out of her. If this doesn't make you want to grab the nearest tyke you can and hug your heart out, I'm pretty sure you're rockin' the old the tin man special. For those of you with a soul, check her out.
