In fact, many days are bad. But yesterday was real bad. I cried for 3 hours. While Mini circled around me driving me up a wall. Not listening. Not paying attention. Talking back. Trying to hit me if I told her no. Refusing to pick up her toys. Being a two year old. We are deep in the terrible 2’s and it is bad.
I literally thought I was going to lose it yesterday. I am usually able to hold myself together. Scold, punish, reprimand whatever. Move on and bake cookies with my sweet baby just a few short moments after a melt down. However, yesterday’s meltdown lasted 3 hours. For both of us.
I am pregnant, hormonal, uncomfortable and quite frankly very bitchy with zero patience at the moment. Mini is 2.
We are going to butt heads. A lot.
She is a strong willed, sassy, independent toddler. I cannot compete.
I am actually shocked at how out of control I really feel this pregnancy. My emotions are all over the board. I am being pushed to the limits. My sanity lies in the hands of a 2 year old diva. And that scares the ever living hell out of me.
By the time Mike got home from work last night the house was calm. I vacuumed, folded the blankets, and made soup from scratch. I was sitting on the couch in the dark watching tv. My face and eyes swollen like I was in a boxing match from crying all afternoon.
I allowed myself the rest of the evening to bitch, moan and whine to poor, poor Mike. Wallowed in my misery of “motherhood is really fucking hard and no one understands unless they’ve lived it”. I fell asleep angry. At Mini. At myself. At Mike for having to go to work all day and night and leave me here to do this all alone.
So this morning I was a little more level headed. Not much. But a little. And I got to thinking. I believe in God. I believe that God gives you what he thinks you can handle. He knows I can handle this. So why can’t I? Why am I struggling so much to get to the end of the day. I can handle it. I am just allowing one bad moment consume my thoughts and therefore allowing it to ruin my day. That is not the person I am. I believe in positive thinking. I need to get back to who I was. I need to regain control of my life, in a time when I feel most out of control.
It is not going to be easy. Especially without my dear friend vodka.
I was looking back at my photos in my phone this afternoon. The ones I post on IG, and facebook. The ones I text to my husband during the day. I’m always smiling. Mini always looks happy or silly or crazy.
So what does that tell people? What does it tell people that don’t talk to me on a daily basis, but follow my instagram. My life is a fantastic, peachy existence. I float through the days with an adorable toddler and handsome husband and life is good.
Can’t always judge a book by it’s cover huh? If I could have only taken a photo yesterday.
I was crying in the bathtub. Mini was literally throwing her toys in at me. Asking to get in the bath. I was yelling no. It was bad. Those are not photogenic moments. So no one knows they ever happened. Until now. Until someone is honest and comes out from behind the “perfect pictures”. I don’t need anyone thinking my life is perfect. I have no one to impress. I am human too. We all are. But while the days may not all be good, my life is still really good. I just have to focus on the good parts.
This life is not easy. Not for me. Not for anyone. Yesterday pushed me to my limit. I admit it. I will learn from it. I will grow from it.
Today will be better.
Tomorrow will be even better than that.
Because it has to be.
Because I need it to be.
Because I will make sure of it.