Turns out a lollipop is almost as good as a nap.

Friday was one of THOSE days.

I had Pilates clients in the morning and a clear 2 hour block in the afternoon before my normal time to pick up Zoe. This is usually when I have appointments (doctor, hair, etc.) or run necessary errands that are not toddler friendly (like taking Sweet Dog to the vet without having to say "please don't touch eat the dog biscuits or touch that snarling pit bull" over and OVER again). This day, there was nothing I really needed to do. I thought for a moment about picking up Zoe early but then stopped myself because I firmly believe that I should take these opportunities to relax, do something nice for myself and unwind. Come back to her as a better, more relaxed mommy.

*cue ominous music*

So I decided to treat myself to a pedicure and walk around an outdoor mall. I bought some deeply discounted workout wear (score!) and read gossip rags while a smiley woman scrubbed my hooves. I kept reminding myself to NOT feel guilty, to just enjoy this time to myself.

Then I went to pick up my daughter. I was there earlier than normal (the guilt eventually won) and the little crayon eaters kids were circled up for story time before snack. I listened to The Very Hungry Caterpillar as Zoe abnormally, inexplicably fell apart in my lap, the realization that something was wrong slowly, slowly dawning on me. By the time we got to washing our hands before snack, I was dealing with the worst tantrum I've ever seen. (And of course, this had to be in the presence of three lovely daycare teachers and 9 momentarily quiet, well behaved toddlers.) Screaming, crying, throwing body on the ground, NO distraction or Toddlerese working. Over the din, I found out that Zoe, my three-hour-napping daughter, had NOT TAKEN A NAP AT ALL that day.

After an embarrassing, hastily aborted, tantrum-strewn snack time and the worst, most forcible car seat buckling of my tenure as a mommy, I drove home through a haze of tears. She was crying too, big, screaming, red-faced sobs that no song, no book, no stuffed animals could distract her from.

I could think of nothing to break through her sobs and I feared her choking/coughing/sobbing would result in VOMIT at some point. So I did what I swore I never would. I bribed her. I told her if she could take a few deep breaths with me, I'd let her have the lollipop that the check-out guy at Trader Joe's gave her the day before.

Like all good bribes, it totally worked. Three hyperventilating breaths later, she was happily, silently sucking on a lemon lollipop.

All weekend has been a roller coaster. She's off her schedule for some reason, is talking about her pacis again (after months of not even mentioning them), and today she hit me for real for the first time ever. Not an "I'm a little worked up and aggro so I'll swat at things and see what happens" kind of thing. More like a "Dude, Mom, you SO SUCK right now and I don't care if it's hurting your feelings" kind of thing.

I'm tired of it. I wish she was an adult so I could tell her I need some space and then go off for an entire afternoon with nothing but the Sunday times and a big glass of lemonade. I wish she didn't need me so constantly at the same time that she is such a big pain in my rear. I know I'm clearly having a bad day (I think we both are) and just need to take a breath and go easy on both of us. I can't allow the guilt over taking time for myself to take over (if I had just gone to pick her up right after work I could have taken her home to nap and everything would be fine TOTALLY FINE HAPPINESS WORLD PEACE BLAH BLAH BLAH)

I think I need to go have a lollipop.

1 comment:

My Buddy Mimi said...

You just touched on one of my dreams--to be one of those people who has time to read the Sunday paper again. I keep that one tucked away, longing for the day when the girls are old enough.

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