State of the Mother and Child

Update before Anneke's THIRD Birthday, and this one will probably be more about me. Lest you think my daughter is already getting her Comparative Religions groove on, I'll first clarify that this was Anneke's pretend birthday celebration she threw for herself while I was getting dressed. We sang happy birthday and blew out candles, and it was the icing on the cake to a deliciously slow morning where we stayed in our jammies and played on the floor a lot.

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.