I think all of us mamas can admit that at one point or another we got frustrated with our littles when things got hard. Even when they’re really young and can’t communicate their feelings or needs with us, it can be hard. We often feel like we don’t know what to do because we don’t understand them. And, in turn, that causes mamas, and daddies, to feel lost and sometimes hopeless.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but our first year has been full of crazy ups and downs. I’m not even talking about our time in the NICU. Honestly, that time now seems so easy compared to having her home. I know how that may sound. I’m not trying to say that our NICU time wasn’t the worst 70 days…EVER, but I am saying that having her home is another beast.
Since bringing her home we’ve gone through lockdown, an insane grocery shortage, A HUGE out-of-state move, and new jobs. That’s just the beginning. I’m sure you all know that parenthood comes with a bunch of other life changes. With moving came new jobs and with that new schedules. Bryan has gone from creating the schedule to waiting for it to come out. That means he’s working weird hours and they vary all the time. And I have gone from working an hour from home to working a few feet from the bedroom. This is where my frustration comes into play.
People weren’t kidding when they said that being a parent is a full-time job. That means that I now have a part-time bookkeeping job and a full-time mama job (which I don’t actually consider a job). Cue the frustration. Trying to make sure Nell is fed and happy, get some work done, and make sure the house stays semi clean makes it feel like I never stop moving. I don’t really get to sit down unless Nell is sleeping. And right now that’s hard because she wants to be held. And I’m okay with that because she’s getting so big so fast and I want that time with her.
For me, all of this means that my emotions run high. And sometimes I have trouble regulating those emotions. Nell and I have had a few rough days lately. And while I hate to actually admit this out loud, I do feel like it’s maybe necessary to deal with what’s happening. I yelled at her. I yelled at my sweet baby girl who doesn’t know how to use words to tell me what she wants or needs. I yelled at my baby over my own frustrations. I have tears just typing this out. You guys, I yelled at her.
Immediately, I stopped. I walked over to Nell and I picked her up and just hugged her. I cried while I told her how sorry I was for raising my voice like I did. I told her how much I love her and what a miracle I think she is to us. And then we cuddled on the couch and watched Frozen 2 together. She won’t remember these days, but I will. And I’ll always remember how I spoke to her during this time. That alone is enough for me to be completely different.
God has given me a better than average miracle baby in Nellie. She is absolutely perfect. But she’s proving to be just like any other toddler. The girl screams when she gets mad. She hits when I take things away from her. She cries when we walk out of the room. She throws food on the floor that she doesn’t like. She also laughs when we tickle her. She smiles when she see Olaf or Maui. She gives the best hugs and kisses. She’s so smart. And the best part, she’s mine.
So, yes, I’ll have days where I’m incredibly frustrated. But it’s my responsibility to make sure that what I’m feeling isn’t thrown at her. I have to make sure I show her how much she’s loved even if we’re having a not-so-great day.