Thursday, August 20, 2009

About last night

I gave Tallu a bath last night with no problem. She wouldn't let me put her diaper on for a half an hour. She's yelling, screaming, turning, shuffling her naked booty across the bed, laughing at me the whole time. I'm exhausted, she's exhausted (had a 15 minute nap), the fight continues. I'm reasoning with her, but all the while my blood pressure is rising. She was dangerously close to the edge of the bed, and I told her more than once that I was going to let her fall. The problem here is that we're house-sitting and the bed we're sleeping in is a good three feet off the ground. I let her fall, I'm going to jail. Thank God she moved herself away from the edge every time, because in those moments I really don't know that I would've tried to stop her from falling.

I did call for help, but my husband, exhausted from a long's day at a hot work site, was asleep downstairs. I stopped fighting, and let her crawl around, to give myself time to calm down. Her lower back was red and she kept scratching it, which may be why she wouldn't lay down for the diaper change. I slapped some anti-itch balm on her, put the diaper on standing up, and we came downstairs, like nothing ever happened.

When I get that frustrated with my child I try to remind myself that she's a baby, and she's not old enough to piss me off on purpose. I chose to have her, and even if I have no patience left for her, I'd damn well better find some. It would've been great to have been given a break at that moment, but there are millions of parents who don't get a break in that moment, yet still they keep their wits about them. I thank God every day that I've been able to do what's best for her in those moments of distress, and I pray that I never take my frustration out on any of my children, 0r anyone else's.

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