Today I felt battered all day long. I felt like everywhere I turned there was an MMA fighter waiting to deck me. I got up this morning at five o'clock with a baby who was obviously not feeling well but was dealing well with it. She was snotty and clingy but not really fussing ... for the first hour.
At six fifteen we woke Teenybop for school and that's when the ADHD MMA guy clocked me right in the face. Teenybop was angry to be woken up. She was angry that I asked her to get dressed. Angry that I asked her to put her shoes on. She gritted her teeth and snarled, "You're driving me nuts," when I reminded her that she needed to finish her breakfast because we had to leave in fifteen minutes (by then it was seven o'clock). She was told that she would spend the afternoon in her room to pay for her "unpleasant behavior", but by then it was too late. She was in a mood, I was in a mood, and Piglet wasn't feeling good. The good, sweet, quiet, together part of the morning was over and we were in family combat mode.
We finally got out the door and headed to school ... Teenybop cried because she'd gotten in trouble and Piglet cried with her as snot ran all over the place and she drooled all over herself. At least Teenybop is done with that part, I guess ... she cries clean.
When we got home, I called the pediatrician even though I had just been there yesterday and they'd told me my baby was fine. I made another appointment, determined that if they were going to tell me I was wrong and that she didn't have an ear infection, they were also going to tell me what she did have so I could fix it. They made the appointment with no trouble, but the day just went downhill from there.
Piglet cried all morning ... She did take a nap so I got a break, but she was just feeling so lousy and I felt lousy for her. I hate it when my children are sick and I can't fix it ... I'd rather be the sick one, at least then I could watch them play happily while I lay there feeling sucky. But it was not to be, not this time. I held my baby through the morning while she squirmed because she couldn't get comfortable and fussed because she wanted to nurse but couldn't breathe well enough to accomplish it without frustration. She drank regular milk from her sippy cup ... but anyone who has shared a breastfeeding relationship with a child knows that holding their cup while they drink cow's milk just isn't the same. I miss nursing my baby, but I think she might be done by the time this is over ... she may end up weaning herself before either of us is ready. And that's hard emotionally ... breastfeeding is a very special bond that not all mothers are blessed to have with their children. I was blessed in that way twice, but I'm just not sure I'm ready to be finished. Piglet will be my last child so if she is finished with nursing, then I have cradled a baby in that special way for the last time. If she is finished with nursing, then I have walked my last day knowing that I could single-handedly keep my child alive (with God's help, of course) and that we shared something no one else could ever be a part of. She may want to nurse again ... but I wonder if it will be too late by then, and I struggle with the thought that we might be finished. This issue on top of Teenybop's behavior today had me closing my eyes and wishing the MMA would leave me alone so I could bandage my wounds in the dark, in the quiet.
We went to the doctor appointment to find out, surprise, that Piglet does have a double ear infection. She may end up having to get tubes in her ears, but for the moment we are waiting to see how she does when her teething stops teaming up with her allergies. I wanted to cry. I wanted a break. I wanted to clock out of "mom duty" for half an hour and enjoy a book and a glass of wine for a while. By this time it was five o'clock and it had been a long day.
But I am fine now. We got Piglet's prescription from the pharmacy, got dinner in our bellies, got Teenybop tucked in, and after a thirty minute screaming fit I finally got Piglet settled and tucked in too.
And then? Then he called. We talked for a few minutes and he was furious that he hadn't been able to call earlier in order to talk to the girls. He had to go since they were being moved into their barracks, but he called back a few minutes later and we were able to talk a little more. It was like all the times life's MMA's had busted me today just washed away and vanished. It was like I could finally take a deep breath. It was like ... Neosporin.
I really miss him. But I am glad we chose this for a lot of reasons. I hope he remembers them at times like this when he is frustrated, and I hope he does well and is successful. I am so proud of him, of what he's doing, of what he is giving of himself in order to protect and provide for his family. And I admit, when he said he was lacing up his boots for formation, that was hot.
