And Anneke is very conscious of her birthday coming up. In fact, she was a bit jealous when I celebrated my own birthday on Friday, and I had to assure her many times that her's is right around the corner. I only hope I'm not in labor and delivery that day! In the long run, if I am, life will go on, but I just hate for her first birthday that she's really aware of to be overshadowed.
So far, I don't just hate how things will change with two kids--I think it's too hard to imagine. I thought by now I would have gone through a period of feeling sad about how it's not going to be just the three of us, or, indeed, two of us since that little girl and I spend so many days together. I haven't, though, but have felt the need to savor this time we have left, just like I did with Dave before Anneke was born.
Speaking of which, I went downstairs the other day, and Dave had put in the DVD of our diving trip in Thailand for Anneke to watch, and it was one of a few times I felt nostalgic for those carefree days--videos of diving in a tropical paradise will do that, I guess. But there's nothing at all like being a family together. It's not always as fun as a liveaboard dive trip, but it's infinitely more precious.
Anyway, this afternoon: good thing we had such a sweet morning, because this afternoon was a storm of tired, about-to-pop mommy and tired, not-quite-done-with-her-afternoon-nap little girl. Basically, Anneke and I got into a Big Fight. No, I didn't lose my temper, and no, I did not spank or otherwise use any physical punishment. No lasting damage was done, but I escalated a power struggle and she came at me with her little hands, looking both shocked and furious when she did manage to hit me in the face! I made her stay in her room, and she wailed and wailed until she crashed, exhausted, in her new big-girl chair. I felt terrible, knowing part of the reason I was handling things this way was because I needed a break, physically and mentally, and would mismanage her exhaustion if that was what it would take to get it.
I know how much worse it could be and how much worse parent-child conflicts get because of what I do for a living. I listen to wonderful, loving parents beat themselves up all the time and spend a lot of time pointing out all the things they're doing well. But now I understand that nothing changes the fact that it feels really bad to play a part in exacerbating your child's meltdown, even if you didn't mean to, and even if it just makes you a human being and not Super Mom. I even believe that messing up as a parent--within limits--can help kids be more resilient, and I know that my relationship with Anneke is good. But I sure felt terrible when I peeked into her room today and saw her crashed out on her chair, knowing she wailed herself to sleep.
I guess I know a big change is coming up for all of us, and especially for her. Maybe in place of feeling sad I just deeply desire for these last few days of Anneke being two to be sweet, as sweet as these past three years have been.
