The Bright Side of the Dark Side

It was one of those days. It wasn’t even what you’d call a bad day–just draining in its own way.

The toddler laid down for a nap this morning but only slept for an hour so I had high hopes for at least another hour this afternoon. Nope. Not happening. She straight up refused any attempt I made. But not in a teary-eyed, I-really-need-to-sleep-but-i-won’t kind of way–more like a I’m-going-to-call-for-mommy-in-my-most-adorable-voice-until-she-comes-back kind of way.

I caved.

So back down in the play space she decided to crawl up on the couch and scoot over so she could peek at me around the edge of her plastic slide. Then she would laugh hysterically at her own game. I couldn’t help but laugh at her.

That was my mistake.

Once she made mommy laugh it was on. She kept up the peek-a-boo and added some excited scurrying which soon escalated to jumping. To be clear, she just figured out how to climb onto furniture consistently, and she doesn’t have the awareness or gross motor skills to not face plant off the couch. So I went to remove her from the couch and that added a whole new level to the game. She squealed and tried to run from me–still on the couch.

Needless to say, the game was the highlight of her afternoon. Every time I walked away from the couch, she climbed up again and repeated the whole charade.

Basically, I spent the afternoon guarding a couch.

It was fun for a little while, but soon I was aware that her persistence was breaking my spirit. At one point she dropped a Puff snack on the floor and, rather than pick it up, I though, “Eh. She will eat it later.” (I’m blaming pregnancy hormones for my weakness in this battle.)

After the husband arrived home and I disappeared to hide in the bathroom, I was texting a friend to blow off some of the days steam. Her response?

“I don’t feel sorry for you.”

“Huh?” I replied. “Not even a little sympathy?”

“It feels weird to say you feel sorry for a person who is spending the day watching her little girl learn new things, even if that includes new ways to murder herself on furniture. It does sound exhausting. But I can’t say I feel sorry for you.”

Touche.

This is why she is one of my favorite humans on Earth–because she can make me laugh and smack me awake at the same time.

Some days we need to own our exhaustion, to be honest about how hard staying home with littles can be, and vent to our friends while hiding in the bathroom eating a bowl of ice cream. Not so that we can get sympathy, but so we can let it go. So we can move past the hard stuff and get back to the gratitude.

Because the bottom line is, it is a profound privilege to be able to stay at home with my kids every day. To be able to scoop up my toddler every time she calls for mommy, even if it’s when she should be sleeping. To be able to watch her learn how to be mischievous, even if it means camping out in front of a couch all afternoon. And to spend the day listening to her magical laughter, even if it leads to me ending the day hiding in the bathroom eating ice cream.