While I can fully appreciate that this time, as in now, right this very day, is particularly heinous as a parent, I know it will pass. BUT! I also can see it for its loveliness. For things like:
– Jasper saying new words (like his brother’s names) every day, and saying them with such excitement. That he calls Felix “WaaWaa” (Oscar’s name for him that we all now call him) is all the more endearing.
– The continued garbled gobbledeegook language – that if you talk back to him in just lights up his face with the joy only possible on a toddler’s face.
– The Thomas obsession? That he requests specific videos just kills me. Particularly the one with Harold the helicopter on the cover which he calls “ha old ha old”. Gorge.
– The carrying his plate to the dinner table and the whole process of getting it on to the table and him on to the chair. Stunning.
– How when looking at photos – a current obsession – and naming everyone in them, he can’t quite get that he is in them and looking at them at the same time. Or how, when he points at me, his voice lowers and softens and liltingly murmurs, “Mama”.
– That today I had lunch with two friends from my original mother’s group (for one of which I am godmother to her third child) and I was dreading it. In that every time we’ve attempted a cafe or similar with Jasper, we might as well have been tying him down with a lifetime supply of chocolate just inches out of reach, but he was an angel. And this is why…
– because the ‘hardness’ of parenting since having Grover has also been a re-dawning of sorts for me. Of how to parent a toddler. And I realised, I am experienced at this now. Yes, it is suckful at times, but I am, I can be, pretty darn good at it.
I suspect it’s almost like riding a bike.
That the first few pedal turns after not riding since you were a kid are wobbly and peppered by sucking in air each time you think you’re going to fall. But then you get up a bit of speed. And the wind gets into your hair. And you start getting a kick out of the pace, the exhileration, the liberation of it.
And while all my bits are pissing me off quite frankly, I got the parenting ride.
Jasper looks at me when it kicks in as if to say “I have to do what?” but he’ll get used to it. Just as I grow accustomed to this skin once more.
Oh and my boobs? They hurt like absolute bastards.
* This post forms an important part of what some call (I think) cognitive therapy. Where you have to write down the good, the bad, the ugly and the beautiful to help maintain/regain/obtain perspective.