You scream, I scream. Eventually, we laugh.

There are days like today when I feel like a bad mom.  I feel impatient.  I feel at wit's end.  Sometimes I feel like I've exhausted every option I can think of to change a situation whether it be Ayla running from me when we get home rather than come inside or how to get her to be still for 30 seconds to change her diaper.

We had to run to Target for diapers this evening, which was an ordeal, let me tell ya.  First, Ayes leaked through a pair of stupid pull-up training pants (which she hadn't even been wearing for more than an hour!) and refused to hold still long enough to let me change her.  Kicking, rolling, standing and jumping, letting her whole body go limp.  Stern mommy voice.  Held her kicking feet.  She screamed, I screamed back.  She didn't like that, so she pinched my lips shut.  I tried not to laugh.  Finally made it through the whole getting changed bit.


And then came time to go to the car.  She love to make a mad dash across our yard in any direction except towards the car.  To her, it is a game.  I don't mind the whole "chase me" game EXCEPT when we're headed to the car.  We live on a corner, so we are surrounded by street.  Street=cars=danger.  I counted.  I waited patiently for her to come back to me while she was in a safe proximity.  I talked in mean mommy voice.  Honestly, I wanted to swoop her up and swat her heinie.  Spanking/hitting/swatting are on my no-no list-I don't agree with it, but boy I wanted to in that frustrated mama moment.

So all that frustration sinks in, and I feel like a bad mom.  I feel guilty because I don't feel like I enjoy being a parent.  I do enjoy it (most of the time).  Don't expect me to blow sunshine up your arse because I'm not into the whole game of pretending that mommyhood is pure bliss.  It isn't and anyone that says it is is a) lying or b) medicated.  (I can say this because I've been medicated...but even then I still wouldn't tell you its all sunshine and puppies).  Sometimes I just want her to sleep in. Sometimes I just want a break.  Sometimes I cop out and let her do something less than educational, such as our recent adventures in repeated showings of Toy Story 3.  (Hey, she still loves books!)

Ayla's favorite part.  When "Freak Out" begins she grins ear-to-ear.  Then when the scene ends she yells, "'gain, again, again!"  Rinse, repeat.

In just an instant, it all turns around.  She does something sweet, such as snuggle up to me while we're sitting on the couch.  

Just yesterday, we were headed home.  Most days we have conversations as I'm driving.  I totally forget what we were talking about, but she replied, "Okie dokie," to something I said.  So I said, "Okie dokie."

The 5-minute conversation that followed went something like this:
Me: "Okie dokie."
Her: (laughs, then pauses) "Okie dokie."
Me: "Okie dokie"
Her: (laughs, then pauses) "Okie dokie."
Me: "Okie dokie."
Her: (laughs, then pauses) "Okie dokie."
Me: "Okie dokie"
Her: (laughs, then pauses) "Okie dokie."


We were both laughing our butts off!  Then she made a grunting (poop!) noise, so I asked her, "Are you pooping?" 

She said, "I do! (pause) Potty."  I said, "Poop."  We then had another lengthy conversation.
Me: "Poop?"
Her: "Potty."
Me: "Poop?"
Her: "Potty." 
Me: "Poop?"
Her: "Potty." 

Those simple silly conversations made my day.

Tonight, when she was stalling the inevitable of bedtime, she went through the usual routine.  Run around the room, acting silly.  Bring me books.  Listen to them.  Tell me "rock" so I'll rock with her in the rocking chair.  She'll also tell me "water," the oldest stalling trick in the book.

As we were rocking, she looked at me and said, "Timmy. Lisa.  Grandma.  Toys!"  Just last week she went to (Danielle's) Grandma's house to pick up Timmy.  Of course she loved it there and had a total blast.  She kept repeating her memory to me tonight. "Timmy.  Lisa.  Grandma.  Toys!"  Then, clear as day (not a trace of baby talk in her voice), "Grandma's house."  My baby used her first possessive noun!  Aww, what a proud day in a Mama's life!

Now, I can lay my head on my pillow feeling less frustrated and less like the bad, impatient mama I feel like on so many occasions.  Now I can tuck these sweet and sour memories in my heart so when she's sassing me as a teenager, I can go on a mental vacation to the sweet moments when mama was the best person ever in the whole wide universe.  Either that or I'll think back on those sour moments and decide that 5:30 am on a Saturday morning is a fine time for my young lady Ayla to get her behind out of bed and busy doing chores, such as scrubbing the grout.