Kicking Ass

It's so very unfair that when I feel guilty or uncertain about something, the world provides endless signs to make me feel even more guilty or uncertain than I had been before (and I was feeling sufficiently guilty/uncertain on my own, thank you very much). Take a look at this post from one of my favorite bloggers: Friendly Fire. She knows this feeling as I'm sure many of you do.

Tonight, after putting Connor to bed, I heard him whimpering and whining, so I snuck back into his room thinking he had dropped his baba. He was standing up in his crib, baba in mouth, waiting to be held. I picked up that lovey little man and he clung to me like I was a tree he was trying to climb. It was as if he wanted to get right into my sweatshirt with me, and I believe that his soft little arms could've held onto my neck until dawn. The clinging and climbing and cuddling immediately made me think, "I need to find another job. These crazy shifts are confusing Rad. He doesn't know when we'll see each other next. I'm messing with my kid's sense of security. I'm ruining my child!" Add to tonight's episode the fact that Connor has been pretty needy and clingy  lately and usually goes to bed without a complaint and I really feel like a neglectful, shitty mom. It's amazing how much Connor seems to be feeling what I feel. I rocked and sang to and sat with Rado for a while, but every time I'd try to set him back in his crib he would go baby marsupial on me and try to fit into the front pouch of my sweatshirt. So I did what most married couples with kids do - called the hubby over to try his luck. After all was said and done, Rado did a little wailing but finally fell asleep on his own.

I go through episodes where I swear off the guilt, but the truth is I don't know that I can let go of it. As Glennon says in her post, "I understand the act of kicking one's own ass. I do it all the time."

P.S. Dear Rado, I hope my janky work schedule during your developmental years doesn't royally screw either of us up. You have no idea how easily you can break my heart.

Love,

Mom