Today was one of those proud moments of parenting when I knew that all the sacrifices I’ve made in my career and my life—the decision to stay home for a while with the girls and do whatever work I could to make some dough, but putting them first…the counting pennies and canceling gym memberships to be able to afford this decadent lifestyle of playgrounds and making sure they have what they need—oh, all those decisions really came home to roost today.
For today, after an utter and complete breakdown at the Michael’s because I wouldn’t buy her clay, my angelic 5-almost-6 year old, who I lose sleep over every night—she’s not being challenged at school. She needs more playdates. I need to not do x or y or z right now so that I can do (fill in the blank) for her. Well, that very same perfect child (not) had an utter and complete temper tantrum, highlights of which included her streaking away from me at the store to get to the clay, yelling “I’m not leaving this store without the clay” and then when we left (leaving all items behind unpurchased, carrying her out while the twins followed faithfully), her taking off her seatbelt and yelling “I don’t care about the law, I want to yell at the law” in some sort of weird Johnny Cash-channeling moment. So following this—I didn’t engage—I put her in her room having taken some of her primo toys and resolved to leave her there perhaps forever to make up for all the warnings and other times the didn’t get dragged up to her room.
She yelled down at me a series of sweetness-es and then capped it with “Santa doesn’t like you, Mommy—no one likes you”.
This is obviously absurd. A little funny. Mostly absurd.
But it also sucks. Because as I continually question what I’m supposed to be doing and what’s the right call, it makes me feel like “What am I doing here at home?” Maybe they’d be better without me! There’s no appreciation here. There’s no appreciation, necessarily, elsewhere in the working world—but at least there is money!!
A 6-year old shouldn’t make my decisions—to be sure. But nor should she rule my life. And I guess my struggle now is how much power I am giving her. I’m struggling with the balance of staying home for me, for them—and where the right thing is for all of us.
Any answers out there?
