I’m new. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t mean exclusively to blogging…I don’t know what I’m doing in most EVERYthing. I’m a good faker and have a lot of people fooled, but sometimes I get caught. Like the other day when I promised my 3 year old he could have a snack when he woke up from his nap that I never intended on giving him. He was tired and whiny and I just wanted him to stop yelling in my face, so I promised him something to which I would never follow through. All that did was make him cry again – and LOUDER- when he woke up. Big fail on my part.
My daughter who’s 7 catches me all the time. She’s smart, so it’s hard to fake it around her. She’s like a little Catholic school nun. I am afraid to be a bad parent around her. If I do something remotely bad, her innocent almond shaped eyes put me right back into place.
It’s not that I WANT to be bad. I try my best to be good, but like I said I don’t know how sometimes. I can’t blame anyone. I didn’t want anyone to help me when my daughter was born. I had all these ideas when I was pregnant that parenting was going to be an easy challenge…that it would be a change, but not a hard one. That we were going to be this awesome family that all had our own custom surfboards and paddled out every Saturday at 5AM then got pork roll and cheese sandwiches for the ride home.
The rude awakenings started soon after pregnancy…immediately after to be exact. In the hospital after giving birth, my daughter just wouldn’t stop crying. She cried so much that even though the wonderful nurses tried to calm her so I could get some sleep, they had to bring her back to me to nurse every 1/2 hour. No one could calm her except me. The first thought about being a parent was that I was the only one who could soothe my child. So that thought took over. My sister wanted to help…NO! My mom wanted to help…HELL NO! My mother-in-law wanted to help…HELL NO! I love my family, and looking back I feel like such an idiot. Because of the lack of sleep at the time, I felt like everyone who tried to help me was trying to take over my job…the only job I ever wanted in my entire life. I felt like I was stuck on an island with this screaming kid and no one could save me. On the contrary, EVERYone wanted to help, and I just wouldn’t let them. I’m surprised they still even like me at all. I was a big fat bitch.
Now it all bites me in the ass when I do something stupid like yell at my son for asking me the same question over and over. He cries, and then I cry and he ends up asking me the question again. I don’t know what I’m doing. Thankfully these kids ARE smart and they are good teachers. They are my helpers now, and I am learning that help is good. Maybe we’ll be able to break out the surf wax one of these days. I could really go for a pork roll and cheese.