Your Mother’s an Asshole
As we speak, I hear your desperate wails from the bedroom. Your voice is horse and angry. Your fists are clenched. Your legs are thrashing. You’re screaming at the top of your lungs, “Why are you leaving me like this?! Why would you abandon me alone in my crib without being swaddled, rocked or hushed to sleep! For 7 months you coddled me until I fell into a deep and fitful slumber, and now you stop!!! What, have you suddenly stopped loving me, caring for me, being with me?! Why do you hate me? What have I done wrong?!”
We sneak in every five minutes to check in, finding you in a ball in the corner of the crib. Face red, furious at the world, we tell you we love you and that you’re ok, but you could give two fucks. You’re pissed off. You think we’ve done this because we hate you; we’re bored of you; we simply don’t care anymore. In short, your Mom’s a total asshole.
Let me be totally clear, I’m dying inside.
Life Lesson
Honey, I haven’t slept a full night’s rest in 7 months. Every few hours you’re up and ready for a cuddle, a snuggle, a bit of TLC. Trust me, I get it. When you’re used to a particular behavior, it becomes your safety blanket, your comfort zone. Unfortunately for you, I’m an idiot when it comes to mothering because I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s all instinct and learning-by-doing. Clearly, my experience is limited; hence, I need your patience. You and I need to create a new relationship, a new way of being. Mine requires a full night’s rest. Yours requires adequate cuddles. Together, we’ll find the balance, but for now, I need you to learn how to cuddle yourself.
Here’s the lesson honey, breathe and learn how to comfort yourself. Tonight, on my fourth visit to your crib, I placed my left arm under your neck, my right palm on your head. Leaning down low, I made a loud inhaling sound, followed by an even louder exhale. You, in turn, sighed. Another long deep breath escaped my lips. You replied with an even longer sigh….and so the dance continued until you fell into a deep sleep. We learned, together, that we can love and support one another simply by being, by breathing, by loving. It might sound cheesy but this is how great relationships survive. We share, we become vulnerable, we set clear boundaries, we endure consequences, and above all else, we love unconditionally.
You’re now asleep and I’m downing my second glass of wine in joy that the mutual growing pains have subsided…for now. Honey, never forget that I love you, believe in you, and that my boundaries are for the best. I’ll fail a thousand times over, but like a dog with a bone, I’ll never stop trying to set a solid example of what “I think” balance looks like.
