I got so mad I took my baby and I left.
I probably had the worst night I've ever experienced on Thursday. Talking about this is rather hard for me mostly because of how I dealt with it and it's embarrassing. If you can bare with me through the bad parts, the end is good. Sort of.
I woke up in a cheerful mood. Made breakfast, fed the baby banana apple yogurt, started some laundry, watched Dora The Explorer, then put the baby down for her morning nap, did my pilates, hopped in the shower, got dressed and ready, played with Baby P and worked on our sign language. (She is starting to sign "please" and "thank you". I'm quite proud of my polite baby.) Our neighbors knocked on our door and asked if I could watch their 16 month old while they moved out of their apartment, for a couple of hours. I said of course. Baby P was obviously excited because she had a play mate and I was thrilled thinking I could get some things done together while they played. You mother's with more then one kid are probably thinking, "yeah, right. She isn't going to get anything done." Well, low and behold, I didn't get a thing done. See, my baby is small, 16 pounds, 26 inches tall and quite petite. (except her cheeks...they're huge.) This girl can really hold her own. At church last Sunday a two year old boy took her binky from her and she climbed right up him, took back her binky and then pushed him over. He started to cry and "P" just looked at me like, "What? He took MY binky!" I apologized to his mom and she said, "Don't worry about it, he deserved it. Look at it this way, at least she can hold her own. Hopefully she still has that quality when she's older when it comes to boys!"
Anyway, I have quite an aggressive little one. She wouldn't leave her play mate alone and she kept getting mad that she was being touched. Needless to say I had my hands full and her parents were gone ALL day. Seriously. I thought it would be for a few hours. Nope. The whole day. So after picking up a completely destroyed house. I told the husband I needed to take a run. I felt so tense and stressed. I took off around the neighbor hood, taking my stress out on the pavement.
When I walked in the door my husbands eyes were fixed on the T.V. and my daughter had the blind cord wrapped around her neck twice and was slipping and she started to suffocate. I immediately ran to her and picked her up and unwrapped the cord from her neck. I turned to look at my husband and he just sat there asking me what was wrong. Can you guess what came next?...
The switch got flipped.
I started yelling about how careless he was being and wasn't even paying attention to her and what if I didn't come in the door right that second she could of choked or snapped her neck. I was furious. He didn't even say anything. Which fueled my anger even more. I asked him to turn off the T.V and he said, "Why?"..I lost it.
I started packing the baby up in her car seat and I left.
Once again I drove up to the temple and balled in my car. I was hyperventilating and shaking like a leaf. I was given the suggestion by reader to hum in a low voice when I have an anxiety attack the vibration seems to help. So I started doing that. It helped. I pretty much did that for 30 minutes until I stopped shaking.
I drove home. I came inside to a dark house. Husband had gone to bed. I woke him up and told him to come and sit in the living room with me. He came out, sat on the couch and stared at the floor. I asked why he didn't say anything to me and just looked at me like he didn't care. He told me no matter what he did or said, he knew it wouldn't make a difference, that I would still be mad. Which, I think I've been in denial about. I want to believe that he can say something or do something to magically get me out of my bad mood. But honestly, everything he does still ticks me off. Then, I got more upset and kept crying.
Finding the Balance:
That is the real question. How do I Find the Balance with this?
I got up and walked away, the husband immediately followed me, grabbed me and hugged me as tight as he could. I just sobbed in his arms. He grabbed my face and said, "This is not your fault. We're going to find the balance. I know it." That comforted me, but that aching fear that this will never go away and I won't feel like myself again still sat in the back of my mind.
So, for now, on my good days, I hold on to the the hope that my life will go back to normal and I'll become me again and pray that on my bad days I can remember that.