Mommy Meltdowns (of all kinds)

sleeping baby

#1. The baby-toddler transition meltdown:

For me, it happened the eve of my son’s first birthday.

We had just seen the pediatrician for a wellness check and had the usual vitals recorded.  My son was a bit heavier, a bit taller and ready for new transitions.  No more bottles.  No more formula.  No more baby food.  We were on to bigger and better things….big kid things.

My sweet boy was cuddlier than ever that night and in those wee-hours, I decided instead of rushing myself off to bed I’d rock this sleepy head a little while longer.

It was official.  I was in meltdown mode.

In between comforting exhales and soft kisses my eyes welled up with tears.

This baby of mine was no longer considered a baby.

In a few short hours, we would celebrate him becoming a toddler.

Independent.

Willful.

Bittersweet.

I sat in the dark of the nursery trying to ingrain this moment in my memory.  Every sound, every touch seemed incredibly important.

Never before have I had such a desire to be present.

clock

#2. The “there aren’t enough hours in the day” meltdown:

This one comes in waves.

It’s that moment when I realize that the workday doesn’t end when I get home. There’s still laundry to fold, dinner to put on the table and sweeping that needs to be done.

It’s so hard for me to let those things go during the week and spend my evenings relaxing with my family.

It also leaves more work for the weekend…which I detest.

Usually, I’m too prideful to ask for help and a little too anal-retentive to let anyone else handle it. (Like folding and putting away towels in the linen closet.  I’m so crazy I will go back to that closet when no one is looking and re-fold EVERYTHING.  A little OCD, yes….a little soul-sucking, yes.)

So, in the middle of this particular mommy meltdown, I reach (flail) for help from my husband.

He happily takes on the tasks and I can relax a bit.

Until next week when it hits me again…

don't leave

#3. The Monday meltdown (a warning would’ve been nice):

We all know children develop separation anxiety, but no one warned me I could experience those feelings as well.

It happened this past week.

We had such a great time as a family over the weekend and then Monday rolled around.

I was flooded with a case of the Mondays, as most people are at the beginning of the work week. But, unlike them, I was crying alligator tears and would probably be considered an embarrassment to anyone who knows me.  All of this because I anticipated missing my baby.

I hadn’t even left the house when it hit me and it lasted ALL. DAY.

I can compare it to that feeling you get when you pray your child will go to sleep and once they do you can’t help but sneak back into their room because you miss them already.

With motherhood comes all of these (sometimes irrational) emotions.

I spend a lot of my time wondering if every momma is this crazy…

For my own sanity, I like to think, yes.

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