This morning, after having 4 hours of sleep and being up for most of the night with a toddler who is too smart for his own good, I had a meltdown on the kitchen floor.
Straight up Meryl Streep style.
Something is up with my son. I don’t know if he is sick or teething or entering the terrible 2’s early. It’s also possible that he is just plain trying to break my Mommy Spirit.
He was up from 11 p.m. – 3 a.m. and I could do nothing to get him to sleep. I rocked. I offered him milk. I sang. I swayed. I Happiest Baby on the Blocked his ass. And nothing worked. Every time I put him back in his crib I had to listen to his crying, which after 15 minutes at 1:30 broke me completely. Back into his room I went and we had a stare off where we discussed how important sleeping is. He didn’t care. So my next step was to pull a pillow and blanket from the living room and camp out on his floor. I closed his door, laid down in his crib and let him walk all around his room until he cuddled up (or rather on) to me and slowly drifted to sleep. An hour of this and he was finally asleep enough that I moved him to his crib. Then I laid back on the floor until I was absolutely certain that he was asleep. Then I used some moves from The Bourne Identity and got out of his room as fast and as quietly as possible.
I fell back asleep for the last 2 glorious hours of sleep before my alarm went off. I had dreams about Zombies. Thanks kid. Thanks a lot.
After forcing my way out of bed 45 minutes after the alarm went off I settled into my morning routine. And then my sock bun that I just mastered wouldn’t work and my shoulder hurt and lunch still needed to be packed. I was overwhelmed already and I was 30 minutes into the day.
Fast forward another 30 minutes and my munchkin is up. He starts out in a great mood and I think, “Thank God. No permanent emotional damage from last night when I told him I had had enough of his crying.”
Then, as I’m trying to get our breakfast and lunch put together, he freaks. Crying. Demanding to be held. Doesn’t want anything to do with my husband. I eventually have to stop multitasking because cutting a tomato and creating healthy lunches are not conducive with an inconsolable toddler at your feet. So I scoop him up while wearing heels and I hold him and whisper to him. Nothing works. He just cries and cries.
Hubs takes over making coffee and lunches.
I can no longer balance on my heels so I sit on the kitchen floor in my dress clothes, cradling my baby who is still crying. And then…
And then I am so overwhelmed and so tired and I’m going to be so late to work and lunch isn’t done. And I just lose it. Tears flow down my cheeks, ruining my makeup. I sniffle and all I can think is how I must be doing something wrong because Henry is so upset and I can’t make it better. I can always make it better. His little face pulls away and looks at me and then his little arms wrap themselves around my neck and he’s still crying, but now we are crying together. And then Hubs is crouching down to brush tears off my face and rub my back and toddler looks at me again and stops crying.
The three of us on the kitchen floor. Two of us in tears. At 6 a.m. Yee-haw! This is going to be a day.
Somehow we get out the door and my son stops crying and I get to work and I have breakfast and lunch and everything is all right.
Does anyone else have #mommymeltdowns occasionally?
The Durtty Bride 
This post was a variation of my Sunday. What was supposed to be a lovely playdate at the pool with a new friend left me sobbing after McHubs put the baby down for her nap. I honestly don’t know who needs parental guidance more: me or her. McHubs is doing just fine!
I honestly don’t think it’s because our husbands are better at parenting. I think it’s because their reaction is to get angry and not take any crap from the kids. Our reaction is to slide to the floor wailing. We’re more like toddlers than I thought…
I’ve had nights like this plenty and I always get mad when L.E. wakes up happy and smiley the next day. Like really?? You were up screaming to the point where I was going to move you to the garage and now you have a smile on your face??
Once, I actually told my {male, childless-at-the-time} boss I was late because I was sobbing in the daycare parking lot. Being a parent has made me honest to a fault.
Oh it’s made me overly honest too! And my tolerance for BS has totally declined. When I was pregnant and people would give me a hard time I was tempted to say, “Oh really? You’re important? Are you GROWING a human being at this very moment? No? Yeah…step off.
I can remember those Bourne Identity moves like they were yesterday. Yes, I have had my share of mommy break downs, on the kitchen floor, in the hall way and even in the laundry room. I had to keep telling myself that he/she was just having a rough night, just like I had those rough days.
That’s a good point. I guess we expect our little ones to be fine because it’s not like they are stressing about making the mortgage payment or anything, but in fact this big world is hard on them too. I’ll try to remember that the next time either one of us is having a break down. Then I’ll stretch a little more to work on my Bourne moves!
I miss your blog!