Don’t understimate the work of carrying around this hormonal bagage, MmmmMMK?

Don’t understimate the work of carrying around this hormonal bagage, MmmmMMK?

07/Jun/2006

#Good News#The Flinger Family

Yesterday, being the hormonal wreck that I’ve been lately, I tell Mr. Flinger how LB has been really *really* grating my nerves. The jar of spinach she threw at the grocery store was not only the last straw, it got all over my new, white skirt (note to the Internet: DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT BUY WHITE WITH A TODDLER). It’s hard to look smart and sophisticated with green goo running between your legs while your boobs pop out of your stylish shirt when you bend down to shove your squirmy child back into the mammoth truck stroller thingie as she flings her head back yelling, “Moorreee!!! MOOORRREEEE!!!” 

Damnit child, I’ll show you more…

See, I understand “Love you forever” now. I used to cry out of terror because can you imagine driving to your kids house to pick him up and rock him? Can you imagine crawling in to his room and wanting to hold the man with the life and the car and the money? Can you imagine wanting to hold your teenage kid, all piercing and tattoos and hair goo who hasn’t bathed in two weeks? But I understand now. I thought I knew when I was pregnant what it would be like, but I had no clue. Now? I could write that book complete with toilet paper races in the potty and green goo dripping from my knees in Albertsons.

Motherhood is this club that nobody can ever really tell you about. Oh, sure, you’re pregnant and you hear “sleep while you can” and “your life will never be the same.” Sure you see babies and think, “Ahhhh, how cute!” and “Can I hold him?” Then they fart/poop/puke all the while screaming and you hand them back and go home and want your own because even if you still smell like vomit-filled-crap, it’s kinda cute, right?

Not at 3AM.

But then this thing that only craps and keeps you awake goes to sleep. And as we all know, “There is no better behaved child then the sleeping child.” Angelic, really. And you stand over the crib as the tears splash on the new hands and new cheeks and new feet and you can not believe, there’s just no way, you made that.

That baby turns into a toddler. You fall more in love. She does things, she spits, or hits, and it’s your job to teach her it’s not ok to spit or hit unless your spitting when you brush your teeth or hitting a ball with a bat. You are The Authority. You are The Comfort. You are IT. She exclaims, mouth wide open, “MOMMY! MOMMY!” when she sees you come down the stairs and you melt, just a little more than a little bit, and swoop her up and forget all about the streak of poop you just cleaned off the capert… again. You forget all about the thousand cups of yogurt you cleaned splattered all over the fridge and pantry door. You forget.

So you end up crying to your husband, literally tears streaming down your face, royally pissed off about the spinach/grocery store episode until you remember something she learned that day and you begin to laugh through your tears, crying even harder saying, “she’s just the best. I want to be home with her. She’s just the best. Please don’t make me leave her. She’s just the best.”

To which your husband replies, “I think I underestimate the emotional work being a mom is. It’s not just physically hard to chase a toddler butemotionally draining, too.”

Internet, he got it. Amen, he got it. I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Comments

  1. Awww…  My dh needs to read that.  smile  He totally forgets how emotionally draining it is being around little ones all day.

    By lanna on 2006 06 07

  2. Amen, Mr. Flinger! My DH gets it too-which is good….better to be united than to be outnumbered by the TODDLER.

    By Amy on 2006 06 07

  3. Well said, Amy!

    By Mrs. Flinger on 2006 06 07

  4. Awesome for Mr. Flinger!

    Tonight I found myself yelling “GET YOUR FEET OFF THE KITCHEN TABLE” more times than I care to remember.

    By Jamie on 2006 06 07

  5. And that was at Mr. Jamie, wasn’t it?

    By Mrs. Flinger on 2006 06 07

  6. Don’t you love it when they ‘get it’, if only for a moment?

    By Renee on 2006 06 07

  7. Exactly, Renee. I’m sure I’ll need to be pointed to this post in another few days and reminded he did “get it”. grin

    By Mrs. Flinger on 2006 06 07

  8. Oh no…LOL…it was the 4-YEAR-OLD who decided to act like the spawn of Satan this evening. Overheated/overtired = not good

    By Jamie on 2006 06 07

  9. My mom didnt last long going back to work after my older brother was born.  She just couldnt stand the idea of him in daycare.  Im keeping my fingers crossed that when my time comes and then my maternity leave is up, that my mom or MIL will be willing to watch them.  I think that is the only way Ill be able to be ok with going back to work.

    By sara on 2006 06 08

  10. That is sad about your WHITE skirt!!  I hope it’s bleachable, so you can get the spinach out.  It is crazy how kids can drive you insane, but you can still love them and find them precious.  There is something about your OWN kids that can do that.  I can remember back to my babysitting days that I (figuratively speaking) wanted to kill my bratty cousins and never see them again EVER, but it’s never been that way with my own kids.  Do I need time away from them DEFINATELY, but and hour or so and I want to see them again.

    By Holly on 2006 06 08

  11. i hate to say this, but he only thinks he gets it. Which is a great big thing but really, these men will never ever GET IT. I think that is the main difference between us and them. oh, that and the penis.

    By texasbelle on 2006 06 08

  12. one word for Mr. Flinger, WOW!

    Sorry to hear your skirt.  If the green come out, save it for when we go out this summer wink  I will try not to spill martini on it.  smile

    By Kerry on 2006 06 08

  13. wow, he really gets it!!!

    By hester on 2006 06 10