Good morning!

Day 3 of sleeping in my own bed and I was up at 4:30am. Can’t even blame Ishu for this one. Am I up because I feel rested enough? Or is my body just so used to this broken sleep? Who knows?

Either way, I’m up and taking advantage of the quiet morning. It’s so nice to get this time to myself before the craziness of the day starts (e.g. yesterday when breakfast was being made at the same time as our walls were being painted).

I snapped this picture of Ishu playing in his sensory box yesterday.

Thinking to myself, “Look at you go, mama. Sitting down to send out some calendar invites, while Ishu’s entertaining himself.”

And, about 2 minutes after the picture was snapped, I had to get up and redirect because he started tossing sand all over the floor.

Normally, on days we don’t have Auntie Bella, I can get by with doing a ton of work during naptime or when Ankur gets home. But, for some reason, the work was piling up yesterday and I needed to take care of a ton of stuff.

So I’m not proud of it, but he watched a LOT of TV yesterday.

A lot.

It’s so easy to let it take over.

I had to test a kid in the morning, so I plopped him down with Curious George.

Then when the testing was over, I wanted him to finish eating his food so I thought, “Welllllll….let’s just let this episode play out while he eats and then we’ll turn it off.”

And then I needed to quickly answer some e-mails. And I got carried away with work stuff. So I let another episode play.

Eventually, the TV turned off and I tucked the remotes away.

But, even still, I wasn’t ready to give him undivided attention. He sort of flitted around the apartment while I stood at the counter working. Which, I KNOW, is fine. Toddlers can be independent and it’s great for them. I think I feel bad about it when I haven’t really been present with him at ALL during the day.

So, in the evening, we went for a short, spontaneous walk. But spontaneous meant that I was wearing a dress in the 25 degree weather. Which meant it was quick and fast and then we hurried on back home.

He wasn’t thrilled about it.

Around 4:30, Ankur got home and I was excited to pass the “present parent” baton onto him because I was sucking at it.

While standing in the kitchen answering some e-mails, I looked over at them on the couch and saw Ankur answering a text in the middle of reading Chicago Baby.

I walked over and said, “Okay, I’ll do it. Ishu, want Mama to read to you?”

He could tell that I was frustrated that he wasn’t being 100% present with Ishu. He quickly tucked his phone away and said, “No. I’ve got it.”

I apologized. Not trying to micromanage phone use over here. It was my own guilt. My own feelings of being upset with myself that my poor kid hadn’t gotten through any activity that day without an adult trying to take care of something else.

It was one day. A single day. Out of so many other days he is showered with attention and presence and love.

But, GAH, the guilt. It eats at you.

When I’ve described a similar situation in the past, my therapist asked me, “Do you think your son is viewing the day in the same way that you are?”

I thought about this again last night. And I tried to view the day from his perspective. A single day. Of endless amounts of Curious George.

No, I don’t quite think he feels guilt or sadness about it. I think he probably feels like a day like yesterday was a special one. One where he could watch Curious George ride on the back of a dinosaur 3 times in a row without Mama getting up to turn the TV off.

In that session many weeks ago, my therapist shared with me a similar sentiment. Once she became a mother of her own two girls. She started making connections to her own childhood. Looking back at her own parents ordering pizza on Friday nights. They were likely doing it because they were exhausted from the busy week. But, when she was a kid, she just viewed it as being a special day.

So, the day that I view myself as the not-so-present parent is also a single day. One special day of binge-watching Curious George. Ha. Yes, I’m sure there will be another day like this in the future. But I have to remind myself…this is not the norm. These are one-off days so we can juggle all the things we’ve got going on in our life. It’s not going to hurt my kid. He’s loved. He’s fed. And he’s alive. He’s well taken care of.