I’m sneaking back to write a teensy tiny post. And I’m whisper-writing because I don’t want to jinx myself. I’m whisper-writing between fits of euphoric glee, a little like a teenage girl at a sleep-over, high on too much sugar and trying to stifle her giggles and shrieks because she doesn’t want to get in trouble by The Adults. (I do remember my dad shouting down the stairs in exasperation once, NO LAUGHING AFTER 9 PM!)
So I’m whispering, you guys. Giggle-whispering.
I am in TOTAL SHOCK. It’s like the angels have descended from their heavenly realm, opened their palms wide and blown a complete miracle right into our open-mouthed and disbelieving stare.
Last week I was in a very bad place. I was spending hours and hours of the day cradling a screaming baby in my arms who just would not go to sleep. Then, at night, she was waking every half an hour, screaming, desperate for me and refusing to allow me to put her down. After days of this, I was losing my mind. Joel was losing his. Last week drew out my most darkest mothering moment yet, and as I think back on it, I still feel shame.
I was having horrible thoughts towards her. I had to fight myself not to smack her. I screamed at her. Aggressively. Coarsely. Directly into her face. I felt so much frustration and so much hopelessness that I lost all sense of self-control. The edge had been crossed, well and truly. The minute I finished spitting my rage into her face, her eyes shot open and as she locked them on mine, her face crumbled apart, fear and betrayal etched within her eyes. She howled. She cried so much she shook. It was horrible. It was heartbreaking. I needed help.
And so did Joel.
This is what I found delivered to our front door one day.
Joel had actually gone online and ordered some revolutionary meditation cd promising profound life changes. I had to laugh. In a loving way. These are the kinds of things that make me love Joel.
At night, he would lie in bed with headphones on, in the hope that the sound waves of this miracle meditation track would penetrate so deep that all his problems, our problems, would drift away. After five minutes, I would walk into the room to find him snoring so loudly I actually filmed him once to play back and show him. Since he was obviously asleep, I would begin to gently take the headphones off his head, but he would startle awake and glare at me before saying, “I’m meditating!”
I did not ‘meditate’.
I got advice.
I read books.
I finally read them like they were the Bible. I chose one everyone had told me was gospel and I committed myself to following absolutely everything it told me to do. Now, I know all babies are different and the same things are not going to work for them all. I was not expecting much. In fact, I was a bit cynical about the whole thing. But. You guys, after one day of following it, Ella slept through the night. She didn’t scream during the day. For the first time since I can remember, she finally slept. We finally slept.
It’s a bloody miracle.
Joel now walks around the house yelling out at random intervals, “Thank you, TIZZIE!“. (Tizzie is the author of the book.) His smile is wide and his relief is palpable. Although I would never admit this to him, I think I might possibly be a little unfair on him. I think I might possibly direct my entire emotional disintegration in his general direction as though it’s his fault our lives are falling apart. There was no romance going on, friends. Sometimes, if I accidentally brushed his arm, Joel’s eyes would fill with hope and promise. He would say, “It’s so nice when you’re nice to me.” I, of course, would ignore his comment and storm off, deciding he was trying to make a move. I would turn and give him an absolutely-no-way-in-hell-that’s-happening glare and he would sigh, as he always sighs.
Anyway, not anymore.
Still whispering, you guys.
You know what I mean.
Also, online shopping.
How did I not know about this before? Why did no one TELL me?