I love my son. I mean I L-O-O-O-O-V-E my son. I get teary-eyed when I watch him. I sneak into his room atleast twice a night to stare at him. But, you know, sometimes, I just want to put him outside. I think most mothers do, at one time or another. Want to put their kids outside. Just long enough to regain your sanity. Maybe get to take a shower or read a few pages of a novel or even brush your teeth. Or... to take a nap. Wow, naps are a distant dream... and also a constant pain in the ass. For instance, today my son had trouble falling asleep at his morning and afternoon naps. He fussed for about 45 minutes both times before conking out. I was babysitting my two-year old nephew, MP, today, as I do every Tuesday and Wednesday, and he was also taking his nap. He was asleep and I wanted him to stay that way. But, my 7-month old son, God bless him, was grunting and groaning and talking and screaming and scratching the sides of his pack n' play and refused to get still. He was so loud that I was sure he was going to wake up MP and drive me to an early grave. I began to get more and more and more irritated until I had to let out a silent scream and thought I might have broken some blood vessels in my eyeballs from the strain. I even pulled my hair out straight like I had been electrocuted. I am suprised I didn't end up with a fist full of dry, color-treated hair. I was so frustrated!!!! I wanted to put him outside. I didn't want him to wake up MP and I didn't want to listen to his fussy grunting anymore. Putting him outside was the perfect solution. But since that falls under the category of child neglect, I decided to make him a bottle after 40 minutes of hell and see if that would help lull him to sleep. I storm into the kitchen, ready to punch a hole in something, make the bottle, come back to my niece's room where he is in his pack n' play and ... I find him sound asleep. I made the damn bottle for nothing. Not a quick task at my sister-in-law's house either because she doesn't have hot tap water. The bottle has to be placed in a bowl of hot water from the microwave until it warms the milk. So, I leave the room, relieved that he is finally sleeping, but still way irritated, put the milk in the refrigerator and walk straight into the pantry where I eat six cookies all right in a row. Then I came home and finished off the last bits of two bags of chips and had a glass of chocolate milk. Not a healthy solution to my stress, but it worked in the short-term. Days like today, I love my son to death, but I don't enjoy being a mommy. Thank goodness we get to start over tomorrow.
My stomach hurts for some reason.
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