I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve neglected this blog these past couple of weeks. I have no excuse, except that I’m crazy tired. Every day I wage war against a stubborn almost-two year old, and every day I lose. It’s exhausting.
Eating breakfast. Getting dressed. Getting into the car seat. Eating Lunch. Napping. Playtime. Cleaning up. Eating dinner. Getting out of the bath. Brushing teeth. Night-Night time. All battles. Sometimes I think Elisabeth is literally trying to kill me. That one time that she took the napkin to wipe my face, just like she did hers? Sure, it seemed cute at first. But then I realized that she might actually be trying to smother me. Or that time she “dropped” her sippy cup on my head as I was cleaning up the floor beneath her high chair? I’m pretty sure she was trying to take me out.
In an effort to maintain any iota of sanity, I’ve turned into that mom. The mom I swore I’d never be. The mom who turns on Sesame Street so I can cook dinner in peace. (Although “peace” now means Elmo and the gang singing loudly in the next room.) The mom who shoves an iPad in her daughter’s hands to keep her quiet on a train. (To be fair – have you been on a Japanese train? They are silent. Fidgety, crying toddler on Japanese train = super awkward. You’d totally use the iPad too.) The mom who bribes her child with cheese sticks or gives her the pacifier THAT’S ONLY ALLOWED IN THE CRIB so I can finish the last 10 minutes of a run without a tantrum.
I was going to have a strictly non-electronic household for baby, until at least two years old. I was going to feed my child exclusively healthy snacks, on an appropriate meal schedule. I was going to have her weaned from the pacifier by 18 months. She was going to be the child that thrived on my routine and rules, and should the occasional tantrum occur, I would not give in. I am the boss, after all.
As if. What I am is delusional, if I thought I was the boss.
A couple of weeks ago Elisabeth had a modeling job in Tokyo. It was a long day and Elisabeth got cranky. (I think her modeling days are numbered.) At one point, I looked at my daughter sitting with the iPad, engrossed in Elmo, with packages of Japanese snacks littered around her. I turned to a friend who was there. “This is everything I said I’d never do as a parent,” I said.* My friend concurred. (Thank goodness, or else I would’ve felt really bad about myself.) Sometimes – like on a long modeling shoot surrounded by hyped up toddlers – a mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do.
This doesn’t apply only to Elisabeth. This applies to me, as well. For example, I said that as a grown, mature woman, I’d never eat pumpkin bread and ice cream for dinner. But that’s exactly what I’m going to go do. Now excuse me, there is a pint of Haagen-Dazs calling my name.
*In my meager defense, I did pack non-electronic toys and books, as well as healthy snacks. But, but… they had cookies!