The toddler has taken it up a notch. And by it, I mean his ability to express his displeasure. He no longer sleeps through the night in his own bed. Our family moved into a new house and his sleep patterns have been off ever since. King also has telepathic powers. He knows when I walk through the door or when his father does. He is never wrong. The alarm alerts that someone is walking through the front door but there are no cameras to indicate who that person may be. When I walk through, he yells out “MA’’ at the top of his lungs.
And you better answer him because if you don’t he only gets louder. The banshee screams will make your ears bleed. The toddler has a severe case of separation anxiety and in turn I have huge amounts of guilt. He can smell when I wake up in the morning. No really, he can sense my movements. No matter what I do, when I wake in the morning so does he; even if he is in another room. He burst through my bedroom door like he paid for something. I have to kiss him good morning and then he sits on my bed watching Mickey Mouse while I get ready for work. No matter how many times I explain it to him; he still loses his marbles when it is time for me to leave. The performance is so dramatic. It includes crocodile tears, quivering of the lips, loud screams and moans. My neighbors probably think I beat my child every morning. Instead it is me who is taking a beating.
I barely make it to the day job before the bell rings. I lose precious time reasoning with a two-year old, who could give two farts about Mommy having to work to pay for preschool. Anytime I go anywhere without him, it is a big deal. A toddler can slow you down when you are trying to run errands but I take him anyway because spending time with the bully is more important than being quick, at least that is what I tell myself. My heart breaks when I leave him even though I know he will be over it in two minutes. I know there is nothing wrong besides the fact that he is not getting his way. He may miss me and want to be with me but mostly he likes getting his way. Even though I know this as a rational human being, I still feel sad.
I wonder if I am making the right choice. Should I be the one home with him until we send him to preschool? Am I missing out on precious bonding time that will make my toddler feel safe, loved and a better human being? There are other things I wonder as well. I enjoy time alone. At work I am able to define myself in way that has nothing to do with the person I married or the person I gave birth to. I enjoy that. Without alone time, I can’t write witty blogs about my life or come up with funky yoga sequences. I need quiet! You don’t get much quiet with a toddler around. I feel guilty about enjoying the things I enjoy because some part of me tells me I should be mothering. Always be mothering is the de facto mantra stuck in the back of my head. How do I shut her up? The guilt is twofold. Am I doing a good job? The job given to me by God or the job I have chosen; where do I seek refuge? The toddler is clear on his job; give Mommy gray hairs. He never takes a day off.
Everyday is not good but every day I love him.