Today, in the car. We are on the way home from Mother’s where Kidlet has been with Nana while I ran to a doctor’s appointment and Target. I am a different Mommy than this morning. This morning, I was nervous about being late even though there was ample time. It didn’t feel like ample time. It felt like we needed to be out of the house RIGHT NOW and really RIGHT NOW was FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO and WHY CAN’T YOU CLIMB IN YOUR CAR SEAT LIKE YOU’VE CLIMBED INTO IT A MILLION TIMES BEFORE??? I am cranky, and every video he played on my phone after I told him he couldn’t have my phone, play with his bus, but that roller contraption bus noise was hurting my skin and so here, play with Mommy’s phone, and oh God, I can’t take this man’s Russian accent, and what is that crinkling sound, watch something else, and what is that bling jack-in-the-box sound, watch something else, and why have I heard the opening for this video three times, just pick a video and watch it only not that one. I will blame it on being up since 5:48 and sleeping in snatches but not really sleeping only dozing as a bouncy three-year-old watched The Magic School Bus and Taratabong and Sid the Science Kid and I’ve had no coffee and I slept for crap because of last night’s argument and the kiss he gave me and “Hey sweetie” over the phone when I called to ask if the dishes in the dish washer are clean or not and he didn’t know and THIS is exactly why I said we needed to get one of those magnetized signs with “Clean” and “Dirty” so we always know have all combined to infuriate me. Don’t kiss and “hey sweetie” me when I feel ALL THE RAGE and WE HAVE NOT SETTLED THIS and crikey, now I have to go interact with humans, and I think I hate people 97% of the time. What’s that called? I think I have it.
So, we are on the way home, and I am a different Mommy. I am calm, I have had coffee and time to myself and to think about missing school and being “academic” and here we go, gird your loins, as much as you’d like to sit in this café and drink your coffee, it’s time to go get your toddler, and I missed him while I was gone. I am a different Mommy. I reached back to grab his hand. We do that sometimes: I’ll reach back and grab his hand, and he holds mine, and I’m flooded with love. Overwhelmed really. I am about to let go, but he won’t let me, he whispers something twice, and when I ask him to speak up, he says, in an exaggeratedly loud voice, “Just hold on tight.” God, I love this kid. So, I hold on tight, and I recognize he’s getting so sleepy, and just when I think I’ll slip my hand away, because this is an awkward way to drive, he realizes and pulls my hand back. So we ride the rest of the way home holding hands.
I wish I could always be this Mommy.
I wish I could always be this Wife. Some days, I don’t see the benefit marriage adds to my life. Sure, there’s one other person to help do for Kidlet, but other than that? I can’t tell if that’s just the depression talking or if we’ve worked ourselves back into the rut that led to me kissing my ex and seeing a marriage counselor. Last time we hung out together? I don’t know. Am I making time to be present? I think so. I’m trying. But everything revolves around Kidlet, and there’s not much me and him time. At night, once Kidlet goes to sleep, I’m back here, in the bedroom, reading or watching TV. He’s up front watching TV. He’s planning some surprise for me, which is nice, but what happened to spending time together and making me laugh? Of course, if I’m in my “I hate all people right now” phase, and all I do is grunt, or noncommittally respond “mm-hmm” to everything he says, I wouldn’t want to hang out with that Gia either. Damn, it’s just a fucking cycle of not wanting to be bothered or be around my own self and then being lonely he doesn’t want to be around me. And meanwhile hating myself and not understanding why I don’t like my marriage. So much of the time he just gets on my nerves. And he’s not even doing anything. And I know I’m being irrational. Why does my husband get on my nerves? What’s wrong with me? Is my love that fickle?