Mommy needs some wine and a valium

Today was a bad day.  My sweet girl is back to wanting to be carried everywhere or directly under my feet and I'm too busy either juggling her in my arms or making sure I don't trip over her to get anything done.  So, then I leave the house to get a little change of scenery and she has meltdowns everywhere we go.  I'm not talking a little crying scene I'm talking full out collapsing on the floor, sobbing screeching screams that today prompted the ladies at the fabric store to assist me with her.  I'm all gee, thanks, glad I could be your charity case today when in all reality she needed lunch and a nap, both of which they couldn't provide and at that moment neither could I.  And that makes me a fabulous mom, right?  Or at least that's how it feels when strangers are watching you and helping you battle your toddler.

Add onto that the whining that occurs all.day.long. and you can only imagine the type of day I had.  Poor Phil came home late and I had her bathed, fed, and sleeping by 6:45 but it was totally necessary for my sanity.  She is such a lovely person and I continue to be amazed by the ways she grows and learns and imitates daily.  Then we have days like today which I ventured to call as bad as those infant days to which Phil simply replies "Ohhhhh, I'm sorry."  Because the sheer thought of those days sends both of us into flashbacks you can only imagine.  {pretty great birth control, though} 

Today, her new word was "queen" and it is absolutely fitting for her mood today.  Really, it's fitting for her mood always, but I don't want to break her of that because I think it will serve her well in life.  She is growing up in such a harsh world compared to what I grew up in and I believe her qualities will get her far in life with a whole lot less heartache.  She is truly the queen.

But in all seriousness, those infant days with her, specifically the first 6 weeks were hell.  Total hell on not just me and Phil, but also on my Mom who was right by my side daily and also my Daddy who had to fend for himself while my Mom helped me.  It was a total group effort and the only reason I survived without the trip to the hospital I was guaranteed if not for treating my depression prior to Lucy's arrival.  As her days got better so did mine, obviously, and we finally arrived at a stage that was fun and easier.  Much easier.  But when we have days like today when she just wants me to carry her around and my back is killing me and every muscle in my shoulders is tight and she is whining and screaming and screeching and SCREAMING with giant alligator tears it makes me crazy.  The crazy returns and I cry along with her because that overwhelming feeling of being overwhelmed returns and I just don't know what else to do.  So we cry together and I snuggle with her and eventually it passes.  I get my shit together and we continue on with our day but going back to that moment with her makes me so glad to not have a newborn right now.  I'm assuming as that feeling fades maybe I'll be ready to do it all over again, but for now I'll take the little person at my feet whining and looking at me all confused as I ask her if it's too early for Mommy to have a glass of wine?

And I look at these pictures from this morning reminding me how quickly she is growing and learning to be Mommy's little helper!  I love her so much.



Lucy reads at her big girl table!





Lucy helps with the laundry!

She's the best, whiny, teething, screeching girl ever.  She's perfect.