u s e y o u r h a n d s

I think I start a lot of sentences with “I know a lot of parents must feel this way, but …” when I’m about to complain about something that I know is entirely everyday. However, here’s another moment like that.

My diet has been terrible lately, getting by on maybe some breakfast granola or some bread and large quantities of water and coffee. I remember after I had Gus, I’d manage (most days) to eat a microwave Amy’s burrito. Oh, to have Amy’s burritos in my freezer once more.

So, today, when three o’clock came about and I’d had nothing to eat all day except for some organic Oreo-type things and coffee, I was feeding Gus a lunchtime avocado. Apparently, the little gourmand was not into it today because he leaned over and spat it out. Good for me, because the avocado (and some of his spit) ended up being the topping on my Boca patty. Congrats, Team Me?

In one moment, I can cradle my sleepy child in my arms and weep over him. I tell him that he is my special thing, my one thing, my true possession.

And then, I can be so mad that I bite my lip so hard it bleeds, so mad that my only desire is to run away forever.

And then there are the other moments when I hold both of those feelings in my heart and it feels so full that I am surprised I survive at all.

I have been struggling with my new role as a mother for nearly eight months. At first, I was totally overwhelmed by everything. Nearly every day was an almost unendurable exercise in both mental and physical torture. I did not think it would ever get better, even with weekly therapy. But after about four months, it did get better. Fall was pleasant and Gus and I seemed to come to some kind of understanding.

I think those days of security when I found some measure of competence were kind of a terrible trick. I haven’t had a day where I felt even mostly together in weeks. I don’t know how I made it through those first four months, but I can’t imagine having to relive them in the next four months of winter.

How does anyone do this?