The hard days…

Yesterday was one for the memory book. Not the happy, great memories scrapbook. The “bad days”. These are the days we will talk about with our kids when they are older. Reminding them of how great of a parent you were for taking care of them on this really….bad…day.

So why was this a bad day? Let me set the scene.

It was a snowy April 1st 2019. The wails of the hard winds slammed against the house, you could hear the cries of a sick baby.

I’m not even going to go on, because if you are a parent, or have cared for a sick baby. You know exactly what I dealt with yesterday. Boogers, tears, severe attachment, the cuddles and dancing around the room, and constant need of something.

We started yesterday off with minimal sleep, all because Isla was awake from 11pm to just after 3am. Four hours of crying, cuddles and me not getting any sleep. And of course she only wanted me. Heaven forbid she lets her Dad console and cuddle her. She acts like he is the plaque, or some healthy food I am trying to make her eat.

So after no sleep, her refusal to have a morning nap. I went on my quest to shower, pack up for daycare, grocery shop, squeeze in a coffee stop and do the daycare drop off.

Daycare drop off? YES! It was a bad day, and I only had the sick baby at home. (For all you parents with more than two kids, or who don’t have daycare. YOU ARE SAINTS!)

Thankfully, I got all of that done. And of course Isla passed out after we had dropped Lily off at daycare. I remember thinking as we pulled in the driveway. I should just sit here, let her have a decent nap, enjoy my coffee, do my work on my phone and relax. Instead the crazy side of me thought I could slowly get her out of the car seat undisturbed. Sneak upstairs to her bedroom, and put her back down. It must have been the exhaustion and intense caffeine high from my triple caramel macchiato that made this absurd decision.

Of course Isla woke up, and do you think I could get her back down? Nope. Thank the universe for Television and the movie “Sing”. As I was able to get the groceries unpacked without upset. Silly me got wild, dropped the bottle of EVOO and scared Isla. Hello meltdown! She cried. And cried, and kept crying as if she cut off her arm. After spending twenty minutes calming her down, I managed to make her a peanut butter sandwich.

P.S: Nothing scarier than a stuffed up kid, who cant breathe through their nose choke on bread and peanut butter.

Thankfully nap time was shortly after, and she WENT TO SLEEP! For two hours. It wasn’t a four hour nap, but hey! Better than no nap. It was when Isla woke up, that “shit hit the fan”. She had to cuddle with me for just over an hour. I couldn’t put her down, I couldn’t carry her to the kitchen to grab water or food without tears. She wanted her and I, on the couch, watching a show. Sounds great, but I again….silly me. Forgot to eat a whole lot and I needed to pee. Decision time: Deal with sobbing baby, that chokes themselves from crying so hard? Or starve and hope to god that holding this pee doesn’t give you a UTI?

The afternoon continued with this, all the way through to us picking up my toddler. Going to Winners, because again…silly me. Really wanted to get out of the house and I thought taking a sick, cranky and irritable baby in public was the best idea in the world. And crying and emotions continued all the way through till bed time.

Thirty minutes before bed, I automatically shut off. I sat at the dining room table. Wrote out my work notes and ignored everyone. Mentally, I couldn’t process raw emotions any longer. And I thought how amazing it would be, if I could just get up. Walk out the door and go away for a couple of days. Then I realised what I was thinking of and felt instantly guilty. I am their Mother, and I didn’t want anything to do with my kids at that moment.

When you’re first pregnant. People tell you about the newborn stage. Nothing about the time after, and the emotions and situations you will have to deal with. My guilt made me get up from the table and deal with the situation my Husband was having a hard time ending. I scooped Isla up, calmed her down and we made our way to the front hall mirror. We looked in the mirror. He flushed face, deep red nose, shinny gloss of boogers smeared across her face. Then I saw myself. Didn’t realise how rough I was looking, and understood why my Husband asked me three times how I was doing when he first got home. I started to tear up in the mirror. Wishing for my baby girl to feel better, and for parenting to not be so hard.

After the kids went to bed, I wrote down “why I am a good Mom”. This is an amazing exercise to help remind you of how amazing you truly are, on good and bad days. What I realised through my exercise is that these bad days, mean that you are parenting. Your child is affecting you, which shows you are present and doing what you can for them. If your child is having a rough day, and it doesn’t affect you. You are not present, you are not doing what you can and you are not parenting.

Don’t let the bad days get you down. Let the bad days remind you of how amazing you are.

Thanks for reading,

Jaclyn Yvonne