I SPOKE TOO DAMN SOON. 

Remind me to never get up and sign on here and blog about how my day is going to go when I should actually be reminded that I am a MOTHER OF A TODDLER (WITH CONFUSING SLEEPING PATTERNS) AND NOTHING CAN EVER BE SPOKEN WITH SUCH CERTAINTY. 

Ishu stayed home again yesterday.

Not for sickness.

But because he woke up so darn early. So, by the time I started getting him ready at 7am like I normally do, he was so exhausted and kept pulling off his underwear every time I pulled it up. 

I could have restrained him and put all his clothes on. I could have held him down in the stroller all while he was twisting and tossing and crying and screaming. 

But I knew it wouldn’t end well for either of us. 

I have this tendency to push my own agenda along sometimes. Like I know Ishu needs to feel heard. I know he needs me to empathize. And I do it. But sometimes when we need to be moving along and we can’t sit here and move at his pace all day, I’ll half-ass it.

I’ll stop pulling the underwear on and “hear” what he is telling me. While my hands slowly reach around the underwear to grab the socks and attempt to slip them on his feet. As if my kid is a buffoon and doesn’t realize that I’m trying to be manipulative and hurry our way through it all. 

So OBVIOUSLY that doesn’t work. 

Because I’m not ACTUALLY being present and tuning into him and empathizing. I’m just playing the part. 

So anyway, YESTERDAY WAS SO HARD. 

I genuinely believe, of all the days in his 2.5 years of living, it was the worst mothering job I’ve done.

Now I know I’m an extremist, but it felt like ALL THE BAD PARTS of me surfaced yesterday. I was impatient. And mean. I was avoidant and absolutely not present. I melted down twice. Sobbing and tears rolling down my cheeks while my kid crawled into my lap sobbing and tears rolling down his cheeks. And instead of ME helping HIM regulate, I could feel the pat-pat-pat of his little palm on my back, trying to soothe his own damn mom who had no patience and no kindness to offer him at all yesterday. 

I tried to repair at the end of the day. I tried to tell him I’m sorry. That mama has feelings and was upset and mad and sad all day yesterday. He didn’t seem to be fazed. YET, I know that today is one of those days I’m going to have sitting on my conscience ’til I’m 80 years old. 

It’s hard to have him home and juggle work at the same time. 

It’s even harder when I didn’t know ahead of time so I couldn’t plan for it or rearrange things. 

Anyway, today is a new day. It is currently 6:45am and he is still asleep. And Ankur doesn’t start until 9:30 so we are both going to drop him off this morning. And I am going to get a day to pick up all the pieces of yesterday. Literal pieces on my living room floor and kitchen counter. And also the work that was half-assed because I was simultaneously yelling at my toddler to stop pouring water, stop using the crayon on the floor, stop reaching over to push keys on my laptop, STOP STOP STOP. 

Gah. 

It is a new day, Divya. Breathe, breathe, breathe.