It’s me again. Your mom. Humbling myself in front of all the other moms- those who judge and do not judge- and family who will read this. What an experience!
So. On Friday evening, you were in your craziness again, refusing to sleep, it was past 11 pm and normally this wouldn’t bug me too much. Except this time. This time I was bugging out because we needed to be up by 3am to catch a flight to Bulawayo for uncle Sam’s wedding! Yikes!
So. You were being playful, as is the usual when you don’t want to sleep, and I was really trying hard to get you to bed. Your dad had abandoned ship and left to go and sleep in the lounge, leaving me in our room plotting revenge against him because I felt that he could just walk away, while I was here stuck with our crazy baby. Honestly, I felt abandoned. But this is not about that right now.
In your playful state, you started scratching and pulling hair, which I don’t think I will ever get used to. And I tried pulling your hair too- I guess I am just not strong enough to pull it hard, I know it will hurt you, but I thought that if I tugged at your hair gently, you would know that this game sucked. No, you thought this was fun. In hind sight, if I tug your hair gently, I am probably just reinforcing your game. So, in my all- knowing mom state, I decided to be the bigger person and let you know that you were hurting me through a tactic I had heard about all too often. The fake cry.
I thought I was doing alright when you stopped tugging. My victory was short lived. Before I could even revel in the glory of my clever plan to disarm your talons and save my hair and face, you had thrown yourself on the bed and let out a heart- stopping scream.
What have I done? Have I changed this baby’s life forever? Is she going to think that I am weak? She has never really seen my cry except for a funeral, have I all of a sudden become a victim to her? Have I shattered her faith in me as her protector? Why is she screaming like this? This is crazy!
All these questions. No. I was definitely not ready for that complete onslaught of emotion. You got me girl. You got me good.
I must say. I quickly got over it when within 5 minutes you were biting my nipple and I decided to try it again, for control- as it were. And right there, just like the first time. You pulled the same stunt, as if the first time round was just a quick practice run. So I have tried it twice, the result is the same. You throw yourself on the bed and cry. I will not be trying this again until maybe next year- because, you must know, I will try this again.
I decided, lying in that bed wondering how your dad was not running into our room- of course, plotting an even worse revenge for him- that I would not be pulling this fake cry stunt too often. Really. I cannot have you thinking that mommy cries at everything… Ok ok, it really broke my heart to hear this instant cry. Now I know how seriously you take it. So. Back to the drawing board! I need something new, before you rip what’s left of my hair and possibly my eyes out.
I love you still. Of course.
Your lovingly defeated mother,