And I don't know what.
My husband is lucky to come spend his lunch break at home because his office is 8 minutes away from our apartment. Sometimes the baby is napping at this time. Other times, he is up and playing happily while daddy is home. Since we visited the park this morning, the one year old did not get his morning nap and therefore went down for a mid day sleep just in time for Daddy to come home and eat.
As my husband left to go back to work, the slamming of the front door (which he doesn't even realize when he closes the door to leave) woke the baby. I usually let him cry for a few minutes to see if he'll go back to sleep. Getting him while he is crying makes for a miserable rest of the afternoon. He isn't himself; he seems like he is still sleepy, and I can never get him back to sleep after I've picked him up.
So after about 15 minutes (I really stretched it today hoping and praying he'd go back down), I reluctantly got him out of his crib and what ensued the rest of the day was screaming, tantrums, biting, and just overall ugliness... from the baby and the 3 year old.
Today, I failed.
My patience ran thin... until it was non existent. My wish for a rest or at least some peace and quiet resulted in me just sitting down at the table and blocking out the kids, no matter how loud they got. I just couldn't go on. I broke. I yelled. They cried. I tried to clean the messes up. I broke again. I cooked dinner. Only one kid ate it, while the other threw it on the carpet. I broke again.
I failed.
I failed at being the best mom I could. I failed at keeping my cool.
As the evening wore on and the husband came home, he saw the despair in my eyes. The need for a break. The want for a rest. He took the crying babe out of his crib and cuddled him for a few minutes. The baby calmed down until he was back in his crib.
And here comes my redemption.
It needed to happen. When I went in, my 3 year old was fast asleep in her bed while the baby cried. I picked him up and carried him over to the rocking chair. We rocked. I cried as I looked at my daughter sleeping soundly and my son dozing off in my arms. I cried knowing that I had failed this day. I cried wishing I had given them more hugs for comfort and read them one more story before bed without getting annoyed and impatient with their "constant wants and needs."
I cried because I know I'm human and every mom goes through this, but I wanted to be better. The kitchen is a mess; the living room is a mess; the kid's room is a mess. I just couldn't.
So today I failed.
Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow I will start over. Tomorrow I will be victorious.
