Patience is truly a virtue my friends. And it’s not something I have in abundance. Add that to an anxiety disorder and you sometimes come up with less than fun results. I have it in check most of the time, but it raises its ugly head once in a while. I’ve been running on fumes lately and I’m exhausted. And now I’ve got a cold. So I’m already a bit cranky to begin with. Now enter a clingy two-year old. She’s my mini-me and I love spending time with her more than anyone else, but good lord sometimes I just need five minutes to breathe. Even on a good day. But she is going through a “mommy phase” and does not want to hang out with daddy. All kids this age are all about mommy, but she doesn’t want him to do anything. She won’t even let him help her wash her hands after she eats. Every attempt ends up with a screaming “No! Mommy do it!” Today she even told him he couldn’t talk to me. “Don’t talk to mommy. She’s not your mommy. She’s MY mommy.” Poor guy is trying to help, but she is having no part in it. And therefore I cannot get a break. Plus, I know it really hurts his feelings. She will get over this phase soon I’m sure, but he likes to play with her and he’s really pulling out all the stops to no avail.
Today I played, colored, ate, crafted, etc. through sheer exhaustion, because that’s what mommies do(and what I enjoy doing,) but a headbutt to the chin causing me to bite my lip almost sent me into tailspin. You would’ve thought I’d been punched in a face by a grown man. Ava wanted an afternoon bath and I gladly agreed and had my husband come upstairs to keep an eye on her so I could hide in my bathroom and cry it out and get rid of the stupid shakes. It was ridiculous how upset I was. Sometimes my anxiety gets the best of me and it is the absolute worst. Especially on days like today because it forced me to walk away from my kid. But its walk away or lose my shit in front of her and I just don’t want that. And then my husband walks in to witness it and thinks he’s done something wrong, when of course he hasn’t, so now I’ve got guilt on top of everything else and it just makes the anxiety attack that much longer.
Curse you “I don’t let my kid watch tv” moms, because its 5pm and I’ve just sat Ava down in front of ‘Super Why?’ and that’s where she’ll stay until dinner. Because on rare occasions my mental health has to come first. But now that I’ve typed this all up I feel so much better. Blogging really can be cathartic at times. Maybe I’ll be back after Ava’s bedtime to complain about the Golden Globes and Madonna’s scary arms.