Back from a weekend of vacationing is always hard, but I felt like yesterday was even harder than hard. It meant me, still at home with the kid, still “working” 12 hour days of boredom and loneliness. Some days I feel excellent at being a mom. Some days I feel the warm and fuzzies about getting to spend so much time with Gabe. But then sometimes the amount I do not want to do this anymore, the amount that Gabe cannot play with his fucking toys and stop pulling on my hair, climbing me like a jungle gym, or trying to rip out my earrings, the amount that I just want to be alone for 5 minutes overwhelms me.
Yesterday was a big day of ugh. Of naps that were too short, of eating an avocado for lunch, of getting lost on the way to Gabe’s doctor’s appointing, not being able to find parking, forgetting the diaper bag, juggling 6 pieces of paper, two phones, my wallet, car keys, and the baby without a purse or stroller. It was mostly feeling like a loser and a noob, reminding myself that as long as the baby lives, I can check off this day as a success… but really, that’s never been good enough for my high achieving self. So I can’t help feeling like a big big loser. I mean, I should be teaching him spanish and we should be exploring cultural centers and going on 7 walks and … whatever.
The loser that didn’t hear back from the exciting job interview, that feels unattractive and lazy, that shouldn’t even complain about being tired or working so hard because I hang out on the floor of my living room 80% of the day.
And did you know? That next week Gabe starts daycare again. It will be amazing amazingness for him, he is craving other kids and tries to cuddle any baby he sees. He is bored of our toys and of me and of our walks and and and… he needs to go somewhere else so he can come home and be all “Wee!” And then I’ll just be someone who is at home trying to get a job without the added “but I’m ALSO taking care of the baby.” Next week I won’t even be doing that.
Sometimes the day to day is dumb. Sometimes coming home and being reminded of your normal life, and not your jetsetting, best friend hanging, movie watching, bad-for-me-food eating pretend existence stings more than it should. It is especially noticeable when Kamel is trying to set up some sort of 1-2 night weekend get away for just us and my response to every single suggestion is,
“Why does it even MATTER? We’ll still have to come home and be parents!”
“That isn’t even worth it! What are we going to do, just be in bed all day watching TV? WHO CARES?!”
Ugh, Lauren! Where is your making-the-best-of-it face? It’s probably on some really lovely vacation with plush robes and warm weather, and a perfect bikini body! That’s where! I’ll be here, waiting for it to return, sitting on my living room floor.