As part of BGTY (Be Good To Yourself) I will hopefully be able to relax and soak in the tub for a long amount of time tonight. Lord willing, because I have a two year old daughter who is my shadow. Gotta love those terrible-twos. Anyone that is a mom knows all too well about not being able to just go to the restroom by yourself or get yourself fully ready before you head out the door. Yes, even this small task somehow turns into a crying meltdown!
I haven't been able to read a book and actually finish it. In fact, the last book I've read and actually finished is The Help. This book is surprisingly realistic and evoked emotions and thoughts. I couldn't get that story out of my head afterwards! That's what a good read is supposed to do! I still haven't seen the movie (one of the many perks of having a little one). Thank goodness it's available on DVD now. In which, I'll have to watch with subtitles. I won't get to hear a word of what's going on because my daughter talks over everything I'm really trying to hear, including when I'm on the phone.
I've really been dealing with feeling exactly like Charlotte in Sex In The City 2. Overwhelmed when the baby is screaming the whole time she's on the phone and the older child (Lily) ruins her perfect vintage cream Valentino skirt. Then she has a meltdown. Fast forward to later on in the movie. Miranda and Charlotte have drinks at the bar in their hotel. They're talking about how hard it is to be a mom. Charlotte always wanted to have a family but her daughters are driving her crazy. She wonders, "And I have full time help! How do the women without help do it?!" Miranda answers with, "I don't effing know. Here's to them." They drink. That's what I need a drink, a long bath, a good read or movie and a young mothers support group! I can empathize with Charlotte except for the fact that she is well-to-do, has support, and a nanny. All of my friends don't have any children. If you have a nanny don't even talk to me.
Too many times women put everyone else first, neglecting to take care of ourselves. It's totally the burned toast syndrome. This is when we get done fixing everyone else's toast and there's the one piece of burned toast left. We take the burned piece of toast so that everyone else gets to have a perfect breakfast. We get obsessed with pleasing others and being the perfect supermom. You know it's completely illogical to be perfect. It still doesn't stop you from feeling like maybe what you think is your all, isn't your best.
God forbid we actually put our foot down for fear of turning our kids into psychopaths later in life. We ask ourselves such questions like, "Will this make (insert your child's name here) hate me or resent me for the rest of their little life?" Even when we're at the point of being really ticked off we still want to protect their little heart. I have to constantly repeat myself. Am I a human tape recorder? I don't even want to get started on the topic of sleep. I haven't had a full night of sleep not by choice, since two years and six months ago. By the end of the day you're left thinking to yourself WTEff? You've been drained and turned half crazy. And that's a normal week. Yet, my relationship with my child is still the most fulfilling in my life. Perplexing.