The tears, oh the tears today!
Like so many things, my emotions are still stuck on pregnant. I was never the type to cry over things I’d read or watch. It had to be something pretty darn emotional or something that was directly impacting me or people I loved to get tears, real live tears from me.
Not anymore! I see a cute little ant working hard to carry a giant leaf set to some inspirational power ballad and a cutesy “you can do it” quote at the end and I’m a blubbering mess.
It all started about four years ago when I was pregnant with Miles. Granted the serious surge of hormones that is standard with a pregnancy was accompanied by some pretty emotional stuff in my life — my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I moved across the country from my husband (for three months) and great friends (forever), got a new and kind of scary job and then, sadly, lost my dad all within the first seven months after marriage and first four months of pregnancy.
So when people would say, “Parenthood is a great show but you’ll probably tear up a little.” What I would actually do was have a near mental breakdown during every episode before my husband, for my own good, deleted the show from the DVR. I wasn’t able to revisit it until just a few months ago. Guess what folks, I almost needed an intervention then too.
Because my emotions — like my internal thermostat — are stuck on pregnant.
There’s this video that’s going all viral of little kids blindfolded sensing their moms. All of the tears! And seriously people, it was good and tugged at your heart strings, but tears, sobs, sniffles — it shouldn’t be a thing. But it was.
And then about 20 minutes later the Internet, or the source of the Kleenex industry, spits out another tear fest. There was a story about the three things you should ask your child before bed:
- What is something that made you smile today?
- What is something that made you cry today?
- What is something that you learned today?
Again, with the tears. These tears come from a place of, you guessed it, guilt. I can’t escape this five letter word. Miles, nearly 4, doesn’t get as much of my time as he deserves during the week because from the time I get home from work to the time he goes to bed I’m nursing his brother. The 20 or so minutes where that isn’t the case I’m fixing dinner or we are eating dinner. None of it is real quality, momma and Miles time. And I feel bad.
So when I read this I realized it is something I need to do. So to kick that guilt to the curb I’ve vowed to myself to incorporate this into our nightly routine. Even if I’m nursing his brother, Miles can snuggle into my other side and we can have this conversation — EVERY NIGHT
So pregnancy, you win again. You forever altered my shoe size, my thermostat (yes, it is ALWAYS hot in here) and my whacky emotions. But I suppose my two little boys are worth it.