Hey look at me and my mommy blog!
I’ve been having conflicting feelings lately. Feelings that have made me want to seriously pack a bag and just go away, possibly never come back. I suspect that maybe this is normal, that other moms probably feel this way at times, but it’s hard when you can’t find anyone to admit that, when you feel that just saying the words out loud will have you ostracized from humanity. Makes you feel kind of alone in it all. Lately, it’s seemed like Chooch and I fight with each other more than anything else and I hate that. I hate going into work with blood-shot eyes, trying to suppress that sniveling reaction your body goes through when you’ve been crying all afternoon. I miss being able to just enjoy my kid instead of constantly yelling at him and having him defy me over and over. Usually this starts as soon as he rolls out of bed.
I don’t hate my kid. But I’m starting to hate being a mom. I don’t want to hate being a mom. Last week at work, I overheard one of the analysts in her office, talking on the phone to her nineteen-month-old. And she sounded so happy talking to her son, praising him, repeating over and over that she loved him and would be home soon. I remember those days, too. And they seem like they happened forever ago. When my co-worker hung up, she said to herself, “I love being a mother.”
Most days I’m too stressed and disgusted to “enjoy” being a mother. The five hours a night I spend at my job, in a clean and quiet office, is what I enjoy.
And that makes me feel like shit.
So I’ve been looking at baby pictures. Reading old LiveJournal posts from when he was in his first year. It’s been helping. And he’s been good this weekend, like the old Chooch that I thought must have been devoured by zombies because it’s been so long since I’ve seen him.
Yesterday was really good though. He was actually sweet, cooperative, suggested going to the cemetery to take pictures. THAT’S the Chooch I used to know. I convinced Henry to give him a faux hawk because I haven’t been able to stand the way his hair has grown in from that horrible shearing Henry gave him last December. In my mind, his bad seed behavior can be traced back to that horrible buzzing his scalp endured.
“Ugh. I look like Jimmy Neutron,” Chooch said when he looked in the mirror. But I was like, “Well, I like it and that’s all that matters.”
I don’t know where Henry got those shorts for him. I don’t approve.
“And then JESUS….woked up from the DEAD….and saw a ZOMBIE! and then died again.”
Literally an hour later, he realized that his hair had been sculpted into a cement slab. [More photos here.]
I do love Chooch. That’s never changed. I just need to find a way to get back to loving my role in his life. Maybe I’m an asshole for having the audacity to admit all of this. But hopefully, there are moms reading who maybe feel the same and now they know they’re not alone. Because god knows I know how much it sucks to feel alone.