I usually post very upbeat things about Zoe. For the most part, this is because Zoe is fantastic and I love being her mom. It’s also because I figure upbeat things are more entertaining to you people, and because upbeat things are the things I want to remember.
(Of course, it’s possible that posting on a blog for posterity’s sake is an exercise in futility, since the world is obviously going to end soon. And I’m not talking about the October 21 biblical ending. My current bet is on robot takeover in about 10 years. They can parallel park our cars now, after all. And I don’t think they’ll leave us alive, either. They’re robots; they don’t have compassion. And what on Earth do robots need human slaves for? And even if the robot takeover doesn’t happen, something else is going to destroy civilization as we know it, probably soon, and then we won’t be able to access our blogs, anyway. But I digress.)
But of course motherhood is not all fun and games, and this week I have been having a particularly hard time. Mostly it’s that we haven’t had any playdates, so Zoe is bored out of her mind. And what does she like to do when she’s bored? Hit me.
Wednesday this nearly broke me. I had to go to the grocery store, which meant I had to take her, which meant I had to convince her to get dressed, which was its own challenge, then she insisted on walking through the grocery store rather than in the cart, which actually meant she wanted to push the cart, which she’s too little to do effectively, so she was just ramming the cart into things, so I had to put a stop to that, which lead to much screaming. (Note to people who do not have children: “Just tell your kid ‘no’ is not effective advice. Telling your kid ‘no’ means also dealing with the screaming when you say ‘no’ and the figuring out how to stop both the screaming and the activity you didn’t want them doing. This process can be messy and difficult. And sometimes it means leaving the grocery story and having crackers or bad takeout for dinner. Again.) Then we got home and I had to put away the groceries. She wanted to climb on the counter for this activity, which ordinarily, I allow, but with all the bags up there was making me too nervous. So it went, put the bag of apples in the fridge. Take Zoe down. Put the pasta in the pantry. Take Zoe down. Put the milk in the fridge. Take Zoe down. Grab her arms to stop her from hitting me, crouch down and say, “You may NOT hit me!” Get hit again. Repeat. Then I wanted to eat the sushi I got for myself for lunch at the supermarket. (It was Fresh Market. Their sushi is not bad. Not creative, but fresh and big.) She wanted to “help.” On high-patience days, I let her, because it’s sort of amusing to watch her try to manage chopsticks. But yesterday was not a high patience day. So it went, “Get away from my sushi!” “No!” (Smack!) “You may NOT hit me.” (Smack!)
I made her sit in time-out. I took away her figurines. I sent her up to the library and closed the door. My husband later pointed out that her toys are in the library so it’s not really a punishment. I said, “I wasn’t trying to punish her! I was trying to get her away from me!” It was definitely not a good parenting day.
And when she’s not hitting me, she’s on top of me. Crawling on my head, pulling on my arm, tugging on my hair, sticking her hands down my shirt. I know this is supposed to be the good part; I know one day in the not-so-distant future I’ll miss having a little girl who loves snuggling with me and thinks whatever I’m doing is the most awesome thing to be doing in the world. But I’ve not had nearly enough sleep this week. I’ve not had time to write. I’ve gotten nothing done on my story and this is my half-baked excuse for a blog post. My back hurts and I did something fucked up to my foot so I couldn’t walk in the Gardens yesterday which was her last day of preschool so now I won’t be able to do that for two weeks. I’m just cranky. And it’s important to remember the bad with the good, right?