Since braving the park with a 9 month old two summers ago, I've envied the moms who brought a book to the park and were able to let their little ones roam free and enjoy themselves. Sure, I've brought books before, but I've never actually opened one. At 9 months, it was crawling around finding every piece of garbage and cigarette butt in sight and I dreamed of the day when I would get to relax at the park and actually visit with my friends. I figured I'd be there by now.
We're lucky enough to have a park within walking distance (about a 10-15 minute walk so it's good for me). The unfortunate part is that it's surrounded by desert. So while everyone else's kids take turns climbing up ladders and sliding down slides, my child is running as fast as she can through the sagebrush. Or throwing wood chips. Not only do I not get to enjoy myself, I'm constantly disciplining her for running away from me, pushing people or not sharing.
Today was a particularly miserable day. I asked myself over and over why I bothered coming. I felt like a huge failure as a mother because she was so out of control. She'd hit someone and then run away from me. So we spent the majority of our time there staring eachother down, me keeping a firm grip on her arm so she knows I'm serious. Naturally, she doesn't love our little talks and fights me tooth and nail to get away which leaves us both angry and frustrated and I lost my patience on more than one occasion. One thing that stresses me out at the park is being around strangers. Not a stranger danger sort of a situation, but what to do when my child mistreats another child whose parents I don't know. If our roles were reversed and a stranger's child mistreated mine, I would like to see that the parent is actively teaching their child that it's wrong to hit or push or what have you. So, in order for them to see that I'm not lackadaisical about the issue, I make her apologize, take her aside and talk to her before a time out. Whether or not that child's parents felt the same as I did, I felt it was important for me to be consistent. Which meant that we spent a lot of time repeating this pattern.
At one point, she turned and waved at me and ran as fast as she could over the hill and into the desert. One of my friends there with her son (who didn't leave her side) asked me if I was like that when I was a kid or if she got it from Brandon. Never found out what "like that" meant, but it couldn't have been good. I was frustrated, Teagan was frustrated and we decided to go home.
We had a quick lunch and I've never been so relieved to put her in her crib and shut the door for naptime. I tidied the place (sidenote: why do I waste so much time cleaning?) and all the while felt terrible about being so hard on her at the park. I was so upset with myself that part of me started to wonder if I haven't been able to get pregnant again because I'm not a good mother to the baby I have now. When I went in to get her up from her nap, I started sobbing, telling her I was sorry for yelling at her and being a mean mummy. I couldn't stop the tears and Teagan cradled my face in her chubby little hands and asked "What happened, Mummy?" We hugged for what seemed like hours and I was amazed, humbled and grateful for the unconditional love of a child. All had been forgiven and I did my utmost to be a kind and loving mother for the rest of the day.
From that point on, she was different and I was different. Bedtime has never gone as smoothly as it did tonight. Teagan listened and did everything we asked her with exactness. From brushing her teeth, to getting a diaper, to praying, to picking a story. It was beautiful, and I don't think I would have appreciated it nearly so much if we hadn't had such a terrible morning. I guess you have to deal with the Beast to appreciate the Beauty. And she's a beauty. So grateful for the lessons she teaches me and the love she gives me. I'll be even more grateful when I've opened my book at the park.
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