I had different intentions for this post. I always do then something is laid on my heart and I find myself blubbering over my writing. I ended up here because I feel guilty. I yelled, a little, at my toddler today.
You see she is every, single thing I prayed for and have since encouraged. She is feisty, smart, chatty and oh so very mobile. Running from us like a water lizard.
When she demanded “more, more, more cheeerrriooos” whilst I tried to drink my coffee AND fold 5,68637 loads of laundry AND unload the dishwasher. When she cried for the two hour allergy appointment, because she has now a very healthy doctor fear (since her 15 month immunizations) then the next 30 minutes in the car because she was pissed at said doctor (and me). And when she screamed “no, no” and knocked over a fragile display in a store when I returned something and the teenager behind the counter rolled her eyes at me. Yeah I saw you girl, I’m not mad, I feel ya.
I yelled or more slightly raised my voice, in exasperation. I lost my shit, a little. Not to mention I was sweating.
Now please don’t think this is the first time my toddler has hit a nerve and I’m certain it won’t be the last but I was slapped with some major mom guilt. My face is still stinging. I’m not saying its different from other mom’s guilt. I’ve had plenty of chats with mom friends like “yeah today just wasn’t my day”, solidarity sister. I’m sure we all yell too much, sometimes, but I always feel especially bad because well I wanted her, extra.
It’s like when Piper died I solemnly swore to be THE BEST MOM ever. Bringing my A game to the rainbow baby arena. There’s another post way back citing how rainbow babies cry. For those of you new here, a rainbow baby, is a baby following the loss of another child. Reminding us that even though we’ve weathered the storm, something beautiful can follow.
It makes me chuckle how I was focused on bringing home a baby, that I conveniently forgot how exhausting a baby is or maybe I didn’t know. I certainly had misguidided notions that mothering a miracle would be light and airy.
Let me tell y’all about toddlerhood. Or better yet raising my rainbow. Sometimes it’s hard. And it’s 2 vs. 1. Lord help us if we add to our tribe.
She is is her mother’s child with her Daddy’s boundless energy and she is a force to be reckoned with. She is the boss. Nobody’s perfect, no matter how hard we social media. I’m over here, trying to shed some light on parenting after loss, eating stale cheeerioooos while Baby Bird naps on my chest.
I hope my my lesson learned today was yelling doesn’t mean I love her any less. I’m not less appreciative of being a mostly stay at home mommy but I’m getting exactly what I always wanted, normalcy.
What time does Daddy get home again?
Rest easy, Piper.
Piper Kai Bennett
I will scream, sing and share her story may it be short. Our only child was born still at 36 weeks secondary to an umbilical cord accident. This is our journey about choosing life rather than existence.