Even as a child, I knew I wanted children. I’d be a good parent, always there, always understanding, never judging. At eight years old I was helping out in the infant room of the daycare centre that we attended before and after school. I loved – and still do – love babies.
During the summer, between grades 7 and 8, I stayed with my aunt after the birth of her second, to help out. Though, I may have been more of a hindrance since I was at that age where I didn’t comprehend how sacred nap time was; I wanted to play with the baby all. the. time. Now I understand how much more of a nuisance I may have, been then help.
When it came time in our lives to discuss having children many were surprised that I was the one putting on the brakes. I just wasn’t ready; I was enjoying the selfish and busy lifestyle and thought of a child as a road block. I assumed that my career would bomb and I would be stuck in a dead end job if I became a parent; that I would miss out on many of the things that other people my age were so enjoying.
But one day it clicked. I was on a business trip to Virginia which had extended from 2 weeks to one month. Long distance phone calls to home every night brought back many of the memories of when Mike was working out of town (more like on the other side of the country) for 5 months and how were weren’t enjoying this lifestyle anymore. It was time. Time to settle in, start a family and actually live together. I was definitely ready.
Now, as a parent, I wonder if I was truly ready. I am feeling that my career is at a stand still and that I am inevitably in a dead end job. There’s really no need to feel that way, because really, my career is not in a stand still at all.
I love Carter with all my heart, I am so glad that he’s here. So why do I find it so tedious to do bath time, to sit and watch the same shitty cartoons over and over, to play with him, to interact with him?
Last night I was ready to pack it in and walk away. Carter was miserable. His eye teeth are coming in; he was crying and whining from the second that he came in the door. He didn’t want to eat, he didn’t want to take his clothes off, he didn’t want a bath, he didn’t want a diaper on, he didn’t want to go to bed. Nothing was right. It took everything I had not to shake him and scream at him to SHUT UP!
I left him to cry in his crib for 15 minutes as I tried to relax while Mike just gave me that look of disapproval, as though I am a mess of a parent. I went back, took Carter from his crib and rocked him to sleep. I haven’t done that since he was an infant. Why? Why haven’t I done that? Am I the only one who can say I haven’t rocked my child to sleep in over a year (and he’s not even 2 yet)? Why do I feel so distant from my child lately, my own flesh and blood? For someone that has always loved children, I feel as though I’ve failed him.
My relationship with Mike is so different now with Carter in the picture. I heard that this happens, but I thought it won’t happen to us, and wasn’t prepared at all. Our relationship has somewhat turned into a business transaction. We work together to provide for our child, and lately, that’s about it. There’s no interaction after Carter’s in bed. I do my thing and Mike does his; we talk for about 5 minutes before bed, roll to our respected sides, backs to each other, and say goodnight.
This can’t be our life now! Can I survive another 30 years of this?
How could bringing another child into this type of relationship be healthy? How can raising the one we have be any good either? He may learn affection, love and happiness, but lately, it ain’t from us, especially from me.
This site seems to mesh well with what I am feeling lately. Take a peek, leave a comment, peruse other mom’s feelings! made me feel better already! I’m not alone! I’m. really. not. alone!
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