The great news of the day is that the dumpling is back on the growth charts. Thoroughly back on the charts. The nurse told me very excitedly that he was almost to the 9th percentile.
And me? Grin froze to stiff upper lip. I gathered all of my acquired-in-the-big-city-bitchiness (y'all know I was raised in the South, right?) and said: "Write down 10th percentile."
Puzzled nurse: "But, really, even 9th is a bit of a stretch ..."
"Yeah, better make it 10th percentile."
And she did! Can I hear it for the double digits? And no, I'm sure that making her measure the fusspot 4 separate times, including in 2 different rooms and with a freestanding ruler did nothing to persuade her of my sanity. In the end she just gave up and magically boosted the fusspot from a rockin' 10th percentile all the way up to 25th percentile. So there you have it: absurdly almost-average babies. And a completely insane, exceedingly proud mama.
Which is very good because less than an hour before the appointment I imploded in the direction of my rather groggy, caffeine-deprived husband. Who I really do adore, if sometimes preferably from a distance and with a dash of improvement mixed in.
Here's the thing: it's really, really, really hard to co-parent with someone who works 70+ hours a week, and needs some alone time to boot. So when JD walked in at 1:38 am I was not only up and working (although I will quietly admit to drifting off while putting baby to bed and thus getting a late start) but had most assuredly left the dishes on the table, laundry in a pile on the living room floor to be sorted, and left the usual caked-on-snot-and-baby-goo on the high chair. So perhaps it wasn't really the best time for JD to mention that he worries that having kids has contributed to his unhappiness
Look, I get it. I really get it. At the fusspot's daycare party, another new mother was describing walking past starbucks with her beautiful, healthy newborn in a sling and bursting into tears at the idea that she would never, ever, ever again just wander into starbucks and sit for an hour to read the paper without thinking where her baby was/who was watching her/whether she had enough time/whether there were other things she should be doing instead. And this from a woman who was a full decade older than me when she had her first (which both means the transition was probably harder, but girl had a full decade of extra Sunday mornings to lounge around pre-baby). I am in no way suggesting that lazy Sunday mornings are worth nixing the baby aspirations, or that I did not understand what I was getting in to, but neither of those is actually relevant to that terror that your life is slipping away in the time it takes to scrub the high chair every night or wait for your toddler to poo in a public restroom or repeatedly re-weatherizing one or the other child following delay after delay at getting out the door. And JD has added in a very healthy dose of financial anxiety which I have thankfully managed to skip entirely (I think this has much to do with his experience as a new immigrant, and mine as a thoroughly upper middle class first generation American).
I am part of a small moms groups that meets every week. It's actually a class for our toddlers, but I for one would happily pay for a structured way to interact with other really reasonable moms and their babies. And while both of them previously had very prestigious careers, they are at home now with their children. And the one thing that they both say repeatedly is that their husbands appreciate how hard it is to be home all day with 2 kids. And maybe (ok, probably) mine doesn't. And folks, I'm not even really "home." It's 11:30 pm and I have a (decaf) coffee in hand because I have another couple of hours of work to do. And work stress. And then I will get up at whatever time one or the other of my children wakes up. And take them to daycare, work, go straight to synagogue, and then come home and single parent them again on a Friday evening and quite possibly all weekend depending on whatever craziness JD is up to at work (and honestly, yes, my non-Christian husband ought to be volunteering to work more over Christmas so that people who need to get home for the holiday can). So in the short term I need a way to channel all of my anger at my husband someplace other than straight back at JD. Because this working/minimal daycare/single parenting thing is absurdly hard, and the next time he suggests that is is hard for him, well ... beats me. Let alone the idea that the man is at some very small level unwishing the one thing that I have actually succeeded at doing with my life: raising two adorable, secure, loving, happy miniature people. And hey, they were both even in double digits on the growth chart today thanks to my hard work.
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4 comments:
I think I thought the 'joys of motherhood' would make up for all I was missing after becoming a mom and that would even everything out... oh how wrong I was. I thought I knew what I was getting into, but now I know just how much I was taking for granted. But at the same time, I'm amazed at how wonderful parenting can be and don't regret it. It's just all a part of growing up, and growing up is hard. Probably worse if you put it off for an extra decade.
I don't know how you do the working/single parent/minimal daycare thing. I need a certain amount of sleep per week to be happy and function, so that would not work for me.
Congrats on the growth chart success. Maybe I should start convincing the nurse that Michael is at the 85th percentile for weight instead of the 97th.
Oh Rachel. That really kind of sucks, and I'm sorry. My husband pulled something similar last week (right after a root canal, to be fair), telling me in answer to my question if I could do anything for him, "I'm just too old to be the harried father of a toddler."
What? WHAT? Because I do take on the VAST majority of the boychick's parenting, his comment hurt me badly, just cut me to the core--both the implication that I could somehow be doing MORE, and the underlying accusation that, yes, our child was contributing to his unhappiness. I was absolutely floored--who was this man, and why did I ever marry him?
A few days later as I was still floundering, a friend told me that sometimes people lash out, looking for the worst thing to say to the people they love. She gave me an example from her own life. I thought about it. I decided that it was the case here. And I forgave him. (And in the meantime, I made enough of a fuss to let him know that that was unacceptable, so I'm pretty sure he's not going to sink that low again.)
Tell JD how hurtful his words were, but try to let it go. You have taken on WAY more than any mother I know of, and I'm in awe, but also worried that you're spreading yourself too thin--you may be superwoman (&I'm totally convinced that you are) but you could use a day off occasionally, as well! Wish we still lived in the city. I'd love to meet you & the Fusspot & the Dumpling sometime. If he's not completely blind, he knows how much you do, how hard you work, and what an EXCELLENT job you're doing with those kids. He was being deliberately mean, which isn't nice, but he likely doesn't really believe his own words either, and if you confronted him with them, he'd likely deny ever having said that, no matter how clearly the words are ingrained in your memory.
Kids are hard, but I don't know anyone who'd honestly rather not have had them, after they've had kids. I hope he straightens out and starts being a bit more considerate of you soon. (And super congratulations on getting your wee ones into the slightly-less-wee categories! Yay for being on the growth charts, and yay for being such a good mom and GETTING them onto those growth charts.)
Wrote a book here. Sorry. Just know how much that sort of comment by a spouse hurts, and wanted to share the path I took to find my recent hard-won peace regarding same.
It's funny how I don't miss those days of being free and doing as I please... but I spent most of my adult life pre-relationship with my partner burning the candle at all three ends. Honestly, having a child is easy in comparison to a lot of my existence and more rewarding.
If I were you, I would probably fall apart on a comment like that. I don't have the chutzpah to weather disparaging comments from my partner. At the very least, I suggest you sit down and have a talk. Tell him comments like that invalidate all that you do and that it's disrespectful for him not to consider all of your hard work in raising HIS children.
I don't know you in real life. I just read your blog. But from what I can tell, you genuinely love your husband and he seems to be a pretty good guy who does things like carry your breast pump for you and not be embarrassed. I have a really awesome guy who does such wonderful things as keep our daughter on his days off so that I can go to restorative yoga classes so that my body doesn't feel like it's falling apart. Even so, when he says something stupid, even if it's just an aside that he might not mean, I still remind him that it's hurtful. I make my point. Not just because I'm angry, but because I don't want a litany of resentments in the long run. The air has to be clear to go forward every day. At least for me and him.
Congrats on the percentiles! Project Fatten Up Baby was a success!!!
We all say mean things just to hurt those we love on occasion- I look at it like the child who hits his mom because he feels safe enough to do it- because he knows she'll love him no matter what. It still doesn't make it right, or mean it can be ignored, but the hub & I have said some evil things to each other as we are stressed & exhausted & occasionally at the breaking point. If we address it quickly it helps.
Go Mama!!! My Pumpkin is really a peanut on the height chart- ~if~ she really is as tall as I measured she's moved up to between 10 &25! Which would be amazing! So even though we know they're arbitrary & our kids are happy & healthy- that extra % means a lot.
I also really wish I had more time on my recent excursion up there. I promise to give more notice next time & we'll definitely meet. Good luck on your trip with the Dumpling!!
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