Responsive Parenting When You’re Over It
My oldest brought a cold home from school last week, which means that the baby caught it this week and spent three days at home. Because the bar is so low, I’m very lucky to have a partner who does his fair share of the work around the house and who unexpectedly has a very flexible work schedule, and he was able to take a day and a half of hanging out with the baby while I worked. However, on Wednesday, I was on my own.
I, of course, love my baby. There was a time I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom for her because I couldn’t imagine not being there every day for her. That was when she was much smaller, less mobile, and less emotional, though. Now she’s 15 months old, trying to run around the house faster than her little legs can carry her, and diving headfirst into toddler emotions like it’s her job (which, it is). To top it off, I have been setting boundaries on nursing because she got a bunch of new teeth for Christmas and bit my nipples to shreds. Breastfeeding, it’s such a miracle, right?
So anyway, I have the emotions of a toddler in the body of a smaller toddler, too snotty to go back to daycare but feeling just well enough that I can’t just work while she plays quietly next to me, wanting to nurse every 30 minutes. By the end of the day, I was so tired of her crawling into my lap, saying “mil?” while tugging at my shirt, and then throwing herself on the ground when I told her she could have milk when her sister and dad came home. Then her sister and her dad came home.
My oldest is still mourning the fact that our attention is now divided between her and the baby, so she often asks for affection after she gets home from school. Since dad is on dinner most nights, the oldest comes to me for that affection, often asking for it by snuggling as close to me as possible. After a day of a baby using me as a jungle gym and requesting unrestricted access to my body, it’s the last thing I want. But the oldest needs this and so I comply.
It’s just the four of us at home. All of our extended family live in another state, with the exception of my in-laws, who are full-time travelers and therefore split their time up with us, my sister-in-law and her family, and their travels. If we lived hundreds of years ago, we’d likely have our extended family, or at the very least, a chosen family, to rely on for that affection and attention both our children require. But we live now, far away from our village, and as two working parents. It’s so much work and effort to get through a day and then have our undivided attention demanded by two children as we’re trying to meet even the most basic of their basic needs. And it’s so easy to get caught up in the unfairness of modern society.
Boundaries and prioritization are the only ways I’ve managed to get through it. I would love to have the capacity to hold my baby all day, and to snuggle my oldest and read books to her without the baby grabbing the books or crying at me because both kids can’t fit into my lap at the same time. I would love to have another adult or three around the house to help cook the dinner, hold the baby, snuggle the oldest, pick up the house. But it’s only my husband and I, and so we make do with what we have.
For instance, I have become an expert at whirlwinding the house pickup. I can completely reset the kitchen in the time it takes to make a cup of tea. I have also ceded control of cooking to my husband, since he loves cooking and meal planning. I’ve taken over dishes as a result, which isn’t my favorite task, but it’s a small price to pay to not have the stress of meal planning and prep.
And it also means that sometimes, I have to tell the baby no when she’s standing next to me, holding my legs and crying because I’m the safest place in the world for her and it’s the end of the day and she’s tired and hungry. It means that even though I’m touched out and it’s only 5pm, I need to hug my 6 year old because she needs to feel sure that I love her. It’s picking my battles when I’m operating with limited resources.
Is it fair? No. It’s not fair to any of us. But it’s the only way I’m going to get through with my sanity intact. I feel guilty almost every night. There’s something on my to-do list that’s not done almost every night. But it helps knowing that it’s not just me that’s suffering from the failure of modern parenting. It’s not just my children. And operating from a place of responsiveness, of prioritizing attachment, helps me slow down. It helps me know that even though I can’t be everything to my children, I can still do enough. I can be enough.
And that, right now, has to be enough.
