… because it is Friday night and I have achieved NOTHING I wanted to achieve this week and honestly, it is all my daughter’s fault. If she wasn’t so totally adorable I don’t know that I would keep her.
Granted she is only 15-months-old and one would THINK she isn’t capable of consciously ruining my life but I have a sneaking suspicion she knows exactly what she is doing.
Today, Chilli has torn up Monkey’s homework, ripped the legs off her other sisters favourite doll, eaten dirty cat litter, posted the entire contents of the dirty clothes basket into the toilet, thrown her father’s thong (don’t go there…I mean shoe, not underwear) into the fish pond and twice tried to launch herself off our four-metre high balcony.
She is a two-foot tall terrorist. I gotta keep one step ahead at all times. She targets the people and things that I love. She is a fanatic – maximum damage, maximum impact. She is fast and she is determined. I live in fear… and she knows it… and she loves it. (Look at that smile, SHE LOVES IT)
Well, I don’t love it. I hate it. Taking care of my toddler is frustrating and boring and mundane and far too often involves cleaning up things that smell really fucking bad.
I love my baby girl. Her smile, crooked and knowing, is my light. Her cuddles, frequent and fierce, are my warmth. She brings me untold joy. But on days like today, when it all gets too much and I think I am going to implode with the frustration and boredom and smell, I fantasise about what life would be like if she hadn’t been born and I weep for those lost opportunities.
To quote one of my favourite comedians Louis C.K.
You look at the face of your beautiful, lovely child and you think two things at the exact same time. I love this kid so much that it has changed my whole life, I love other people more because of how much I love her… she’s completely given value to life that didn’t exist before… and I regret every decision that lead to her birth!
Can I have those thoughts about my own child? Can I reconcile those feelings? Can I be honest about the ambivalence that I feel and not be vilified?
I don’t know the answer to the third question but to the first two, yes and yes!
If I am honest (and in this space I am) I don’t think I have really reconciled myself to the fact that I have THREE children or to the fact that, at 40, I am chasing a toddler again. It is going to take some work on my part to accept that new definition of me but that is OK because ambivalence and conflicted emotions and frustration and boredom and things that smell fucking terrible are what makes being a mum so fabulous.
The baby is crying (seriously) so I’m going to post this now and go and hold her in my arms until she is comforted back to sleep, because I love her and I am lucky to be her mum.
Goodnight. Thanks for reading.
If you thought reading this wasn’t a complete waste of time please press ‘like’ or ‘follow’ or something, cos that makes me feel fabulous.