Today, I got an F in mommyhood.
For the 12 hours that Isobel was awake, the closest to outdoors we got was when she’d stand under the window, or that time we went downstairs to our building’s lobby to check the mail for a paycheque. It didn’t come, so there was no reasoning with me that we should take off our pajamas, wash breakfast off of her face, and venture outside.
That’d be strike one for her, since she is not one easily contained, or contented, within four walls. Outside is where the magic happens, where she can accost strangers into what they think will be a cute little conversation that inevitably ends up being six minutes of their life that they glare at me to reimburse them for.
Strike two in the cosmic parenting spectrum was that I allowed her to watch enough movies today to tide her over for at least a month. If you could add up the immediately fulfilled requests for Rugrats, Dora, Diego and Blue’s Clues, tabulating them into a ratio of when she was versus wasn’t watching a show, I think it’d be a landslide-ish 21:1.
Strike three was that I put celery into the one meal that I cooked. And today, Isobel has become a celeryist, apparently, so she all but refused to eat her dinner, ending with me carving notches of that vile green root out of ground turkey. Then I ate the rest.
You see, today I woke up with the cold that she woke up with on Sunday. Today, I wanted nothing more than a hot bath, too many acetaminophens, vodka, and a day-long nap. I also wanted a cleaned up filing system. Guess which option I chose?
It really does suck, being the sole caregiver, when a cold comes. Usually, I feel miserable, am snappier than usual and more prone to putting her to bed early – which is pretty okay, since she’s usually got it, too, since I get all the good stuff directly from her. I will push myself all day long, feel worse for it, and end my day feeling like I accomplished nothing relevant, was a bad mom and made myself sicker.
Today, I chose to do nothing relevant, to do only what I felt like, and to take it extremely easy. Every food item was of an unwrap/pour/wash variety – this is one of those times when all of the fruit she eats becomes a blessing.
Except for the meat sauce that I made to go with our brown rice rotini. She took six bites of that, asking for milk instead. Whatever, kid, I’m filing.
Breakfast was exactly like every other day – gluten-free corn flakes, with sliced banana and soy milk. When she asked for more, I poured while my brow creased in annoyance at being pulled away from the book I was reading.
When I took a nap after she finished her breakfast, I didn’t feel guilty since she was safe and entertained and I was exhausted and achy. So what if her brain turns to mush? – I was raised on TV and chose books instead, every single day. Still do. She ‘reads’ herself to sleep every night. TV is not the devil around here.
When it was the middle of the day and I had piles of old tax receipts strewn around me, hanging file folders labelled with years and little ivory ones named by type, I refused to give her my Sharpie. I don’t share well when I’m in the organizing zone. But instead, she got a pile of mini-post-it notes, which she spent the better half of an hour sticking all over everything from body parts to movie cases – ‘wabewing, Mama.’
When there were old cards and papers all over the floor and she was looking like she wanted a little nudge in the entertained direction, I let her go crazy, colouring on all of my ‘portant papers.’ I did dishes and exalted in a shiny kitchen while she became a wax-covered child that proudly scribbled on old bank statements.
Today, I spent exactly bedtime and however long it took to fork-feed six de-celeryed bites with my daughter, even though she was in the same room with me the entire time. I didn’t deny her attention when she asked for it, but just like I needed a day to myself, to recharge and rest, I think that maybe she needed one to just do whatever and veg out.
Do I feel bad for that? Not at all.
Tomorrow, it will be made up for in spades. I can’t see this one day of selfishness being a major topic in her future therapy sessions. And most of all, taking today for myself in a way that didn’t cost her or me anything means that I’ve grown up a little tiny bit.
Because I can guarantee you, if you looked through my archives last year, from when I had colds? I felt like a horrible mother for even considering taking a nap while she was asleep.
Tomorrow, I’ll aim for a high B or low A, again.
