It has been a rough week. A really rough week. And it’s only Wednesday. My small human is going through what a mom lovingly calls a phase. In real life, she is in a toddler funk that I cannot explain. Doodle has been struggling lately and struggling is not limited to anything and has included everything. She is not pleased with taking a bath, not a fan of jammie time, not thrilled to read and turn the lights out, seriously not a fan of waking, totally put off by choosing an outfit for the day, angered by the prospect of putting on said outfit, despises eating meals with the family and has epic meltdowns the moment we arrive in the school parking lot. It tears my heart apart to watch her fear, frustration and torment about going to school. It saddens me when she asks to go to work with me instead of going to school. Of course I would rather have her at work with me, that’s just not the way of it, it’s just not possible.
I have to be honest, Doodle’s life is fast paced. Maybe more so than it should be. And, it is my fault. I allow her to stay up later than she should in an effort to get some time with my girl, the later she falls asleep the later she wakes in the morning. And then we are off to the races. Battling to change out of jammies and put on school clothes. The ride is usually peaceful with music or iPad movies, but the home stretch is painful. She is a smart cookie, she knows the streets and she knows where the streets take her and she starts piping up about five minutes out. Then it’s time to get out of the car and all bets are off. But, you see, this is where the mom guilt becomes overwhelming for me… It is a coin toss, I either race in the door and pass her off to one of her incredible teachers no matter her mood or emotion and say a pray as I run out the door and race to work or I walk in and attempt to slow down, but the clinging, oh the clinging, it slays me… And then her teacher has to tear her out of my arms. Again, I own that I am always in a rush, always in a hurry and racing from one door to the next. I understand that Doodle is in her third week in a new environment with new friends and new teachers that make her feel safe. It is a tricky little scenario.
Today, a light bulb lit within and I remembered that my dear friend over at Two Pretzels made a pocket heart for her wee one. Maybe it was her recent post about the first day of school that happened to highlight the pocket heart, maybe all the stars aligned, maybe I was feeling a huge weight of mom guilt on me as I’ve not taken first day of school pictures since her first day of school at 8 weeks old… At any rate, I feel a change brewing within me in regard to her little soul and our routine and tonight it started with pocket hearts.
These hearts are meant to be a little love note to her when she is feeling fear, sadness, loneliness or frustration. These hearts are to remind her that she is loved. She is so loved. And these hearts, knowing that she has them in her pocket, may just make me feel a little better too.
One of the only things that makes this mommy ride bearable is sharing it with mommy friends. The ones that when your house of cards feels like it is falling, they show up, show up without really knowing what was needed to be said, but say it anyway. Say it in a loving manner, that is right and supportive and calm and motivational. Two Pretzels you were there for me tonight and I am so grateful. My heart is full and ok after a day filled with mommy guilt. xo
|Pocket Heart Supplies: Old Shirts, Scissors, Cotton Balls & a Needle and Thread|
|Draw hearts on the material to create your heart pattern|
|Enjoy the cut out because it is cute|
|Stitch 2/3 of the heart closed and stuff with pulled apart cotton balls, then stitch completely|
|Enjoy the final products, knowing the making of them was filled completely with love.|