Selfish, With Just a Hint of Neurotic

A couple days ago, Charlotte and I had plans with our friends about an hour before Charlotte's usual nap time. Even though her naps are becoming less and less predictable, I knew I was possibly pushing my luck. Well, that morning Charlotte decided for no good reason to wake up two hours earlier than usual. I tried all morning to get her down for a nap because she was tired as hell, but to no avail. As it got closer and closer to the time we should have been walking out the door, I came to terms with the fact that I would be cancelling. But when she was still awake and fighting me at the hour in question, I said "Screw it. We're going."

I decided that this instance says a lot about the kind of parent I am. Responsible, but maybe also a little selfish. I mean, if she had fallen asleep at any point during the morning, I would have cancelled. No question about it. She needs her sleep, and I wouldn't have woken or up or even tried to keep her up if she wanted to sleep. BUT. If that fool is going to flat out refuse to sleep, I'll be damned if I cancel my plans for the unlikely event that she naps for me.

I know, I know. She's just a baby! She doesn't know what she's doing. I can't reason with her. I'm a mean mom.

Well, yeah. I guess I am a little.

Maybe it's just because toddlerhood is proving to be so frustrating, maybe I'm inherently selfish, maybe I'm normal...I don't know. All I know is that I will almost always put the needs of Charlotte before my own, but sometimes I just, don't, and I don't always have a good reason.

If I were going to try to justify this (though, I won't) I would argue that I'm just so tired and overwhelmed by the day to day tasks of raising a very precocious toddler. But, really, who isn't tired and overwhelmed? And, there are millions of people out there who will see my one high-maintenance kid and raise me two or five kids, or a special-needs kid, or health problems, or single parenthood, or any number of things, really. Comparatively speaking, my life is cake. And, I'm talking good cake. From a bakery. With buttercream frosting. Not, like, garbage cake from the grocery store.

Still, having a fifteen-month-old who will hear me tell her as I'm washing mud off her face, out of her mouth, and off her hand that, "We don't eat mud. No. That's yucky. Don't eat it", look at me, smile, and stick her OTHER mud-covered hand in her mouth, can take a toll.

You guys, she's so mean to me!

Between the sleep issues, the boundary testing, the "MINE" phenomenon, and the (as yet non-existant) weaning, I'm pretty damn tired.

But, as it turns out, in addition to being a mean nap-depriving mom (She started it, though. Just sayin'), I am also the kind of mom that has a really hard time leaving her kid for any length of time. I guess I'm sort of a control freak, and I am a huge worrier. Not a good combination if you ever want to get out of the house without a toddler saying "Drive drive?" as you approach the car. Then, "Drive DRIVE????" when it looks like you won't be putting her in the driver's seat to play with the steering wheel. And, finally, "DRIVE *sob* DRIIIIVE!!!" as you strap her into the car seat.

But, get away I must, at least occasionally. For my sanity, my friendships, and my freaking marriage. So, I force myself and always have a good time. Like Saturday, when I went to Lilith Fair with my friend and a few people. In case you're wondering, no, they aren't still having that. They're having it again after a ten year hiatus. I didn't know or care too much about most of the acts, but somewhere in my fevered brain that was freaking out about leaving the baby for an entire day, planning organic meals to leave for her dad and outfits to pack for when he took her to his mom's, I knew I needed to be without her for a little while.

And, as usual, I had a great time, met some new people, learned some stuff, and drank some really overpriced beer. Well, okay, so the last part doesn't *always* happen.

The point of this diatribe is that I've been putting some thought into what kind of parent I am and what kind of parent I want to be. I think none of us really fit into a neat category. We all take a little from one philosophy, a little from another, ignoring doubts and sometimes even our better judgment. So, now I ask you:

What kind of parent are you? Or, perhaps even more interesting, what kind of parent do/did you want to become?