Exhaustion was the feeling that set in the moment I opened my eyes today. I so desperately wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. But I couldn’t – I had to adult today.
I’m sorry I was a crappy mom today. I was so tired, I was sick and honestly, I was cranky. I shouldn’t have fussed at you for waking up last night when you had a bad dream. You needed to me just comfort you, make you feel safe and hold you. And then when you woke up early, the most I could muster was to hand you my phone for YouTube, just to steal some silence until your brother also woke up.
I’m sorry I didn’t want to play dinosaurs today. I know my impression of a bracheasaurus was lame, but I really couldn’t muster crawling on my hands and knees much longer. I wish I could find the imagination I once had, the imagination you so clearly use to play all day. But in the back of mind, I’m thinking of cooking dinner, folding laundry, finishing some work and maybe another cup of coffee.
I’m sorry you and your brother fought so much today. I never had siblings and this rivalry is all new to me. I try to be objective and try to encourage sharing but sometimes it just doesn’t work. Next thing I know, both of you are sobbing (and mom too, sometimes) in time out and no one’s happy. I really hope I’ll figure it out one day.
I’m sorry I have such a bad memory. I’m scattered and I swear I’m not as smart as I once was. I don’t do well with little sleep and it makes my brain way worse. I shouldn’t get soccer practice days mixed up; I shouldn’t forget to buy your favorite snack after two trips to the grocery. I’m working on it, I promise.
Yet through all of this, I resolve each day to be a better mom. To do right by you and your brother while also being a good wife to your daddy. As I write this, I look over at you playing with your sharks, this amazing scene you’ve created in your mind. I look at your brother’s little toes, standing on them to see exactly what you’re doing. I’m thinking that it won’t be like this for long. One day you won’t want me to play with you. Your brother’s little toddler toes are going to grow. You won’t want to be held or cuddled.
I’ll miss the reasons I wasn’t the best mom I could be today. The toughest times raising you might just be the ones I miss the most.