When LB was three weeks old, I decided she would be a “go baby.” I’m not one to be happy at home for very long and the thought of staying in the house with this new person who cried and pooped and ate all the time made me roll my eyes constantly and weep in to piles of tissue. I needed out and she was going to go with me.
I started walking with her every day in the Bjorn. I was determined she’d figure out this whole “day time is for wakey and night time is for sleepy” thing. Also, I needed to walk off the sixty pounds I gained during pregnancy and figured hauling her around was a sure way to do it.
We visited the Jelly Bellies, we went to the park, we went to playgroup. We never stayed home for an entire day without going somewhere, even if it was just a ride to Starbucks so she could flirt with the Baristas. I prided myself on this child that could go most places, enjoyed being out and craved people as much as I did. I thought it was fantastic.
We did this most of her first two years. Then one day, we moved 260 miles north and I got pukey. Our house shrunk 400 square feet and I gained 10 pounds. We had no friends, no plans and no place to go. I’ve tried to find places and things to wear down LB. She loves the “Jump Park” and asks to go every day. And therein lies the problem: She asks to go every day.
She asks for Jelly Belly every day. She stands at the top of the stairs and says, “Ready to go! LB ready to GO!” She will go put on her Velcro shoes, attempt her coat until she yells, “TOO HARD!” and stand at the door. She will yell for me to come get my coat and shoes. She will ask for Buddy and tell me it’s time to go see Luke or Jelly Belly or the Jump Park.
I created a go monster.
I have to change our life. The past two months (my god, it’s only been two months) were full of begging for her to nap while I go hug the toilet and crawl in to bed every afternoon. It’s been long long days of rain and gloom with a toddler and an emotional pregnant lady stuck in the same 700 square feet for days. We practically growl at each other and wish for the other to just Go. Away. Already. We need space. We need room. We need people.
I’m hoping to find a solution that gives LB a place to be with little friends and time for Mommy to get her online work done during the day. I realized I’ve been working 12 hours a day keeping LB safe and shaping her character and then working another 4 hours at night shaping the character of students in my class. I then crawl in to bed and wake up to a screaming toddler and do it all over again. It’s time to take back my evenings. It’s time to get LB a place of her own. It’s time to get us both space, two days a week for four hours each day, a grand total of eight hours a week. Space, though, non the less. Perhaps she’ll make a friend or two and I’ll join a Mom group. Is it pathetic and horrible that we’re just that needy? At this point I honestly don’t care now. We need stuff. We need places. It’s time to get out there.
I just wish I could take all of you with me.