Change is Cranky and Whiny

Maybe it's the heat, maybe it's the extra 20lbs strapped to my belly, maybe it's the hormones...but man, I've been cranky lately. It's a sort of chronic irritability that I have to try to keep firmly in check, but still leaks out all over the place. I don't really want to go anywhere or see anyone, I'd rather stay home in my little nest and routine. I remember at this point in my last pregnancy feeling this same sense of needing to withdraw and go within. I suppose it's a natural gathering of strength for the huge effort that is soon to come.

I don't remember this much irritability, though. Of course, things are different this time. Last time, our last 8 weeks were a blind panic as we tried to find a new apartment and move. My sole focus was re-assembling a home to have the baby in. Still, even in that state of chaos, there was the ability to take ample time to myself to relax and meditate on what was to come.

But you live with someone who is completely engaged in every moment of the day, and persistently demands your co-engagement in most of those moments it's not quite so easy to just sit and gather strength. Boodge is not the kind of child who likes to sit by himself and read books or play on his own. Some days, and weeks, when he's had enough sleep and things are stable, he can be that way. But usually he wants to do things like play ball or climb things or build things with Mommy's help. He's also what his grandmother likes to call "a charged particle" who rarely stops moving and whose safety has to be monitored pretty closely.

And though he's usually a pretty happy go lucky guy, lately he's been mastering the art of whining and disagreeing. Even a request like "Wanna go to the water park?" is often met with a big "NO!" So you can imagine that "Time to put on your pants," or "Please stay at the table," are even more offensive to him. Every little thing feels like it requires a fine finessing, or a power struggle.

When he's tired, like, first thing in the morning, the whining comes. "Mommy pick you up! Mommy pick you up!" while I'm trying to make a pot of coffee or breakfast or even have my morning pee. At the witching hour, which is exactly when he and I are both tired and I'm trying to make dinner, he will whine and cry for me and nothing satisfies him except my complete attention, which I just can't give him then. He clings to my pants while I'm working on the hot stove, his little face wet with tears and snot. The whole scene makes me want to sit on the kitchen floor and cry these days.

Pregnancy has a way of preparing you for what's to come when the baby is born. At the end of my first pregnancy I got a taste not being able to call my body my own and waking up several times a night. Now, I'm seeing that I may have to rearrange things--not expect myself to always put together a nice meal and keep on top of housework, or do it at different times. I'm also getting a taste of not having the energy, patience, and strength to satisfy the needs of both the child within and the child without. When Boodge is crying and begging to be picked up and I'm so tired that just lifting my arm feels like major effort, I envision the scene multiplied by two. Two kids crying, wanting my full attention, and me tired and at my wit's end. And when Boodge goes down for his nap or night, I'm finding myself more and more having to use the time to rest myself, rather than do things I enjoy more like yoga or writing. That's helping me get used to the idea that I won't have much time just for myself anymore. And both these things, frankly, make me feel anxious.

But pregnancy is also, in a way, preparing Boodge to have a Mama who can't always be what he wants me to be. I have to set more limits with him now, there's no way around it. I have to say, "No, Mommy can't pick you up, I'm too tired. You can walk." or "No, I'm not going to stand up to pitch the ball to you, I can do it from my chair," or "Sorry buddy, you'll have to wait, I can't help you right now." It's a natural thing to be happening at this age, when he's becoming more of his own person and needing more boundaries and discipline. But he's still fluctuating between independent big boy and baby who needs his Mama, and I'm still letting go of him as my baby. It's a tough time for both of us.

The practice, for me, is to be able to set the appropriate limits with sensitivity and a level head. He's changing, and he can feel the changes in me too, and I understand that his whining and contrariness is coming in part from insecurity. I want to meet his need for a loving, stable, and consistent Mama. Right now, I find myself flying off the handle sometimes over little things, or giving in because I'm too tired to handle a meltdown, or feeling guilty that I'm so grumpy. Not all the time, and not so I'm beating myself up over it (I'm human, after all), but I notice it.

Parenting a toddler takes a different set of skills than parenting a baby. Nurturing, and intuiting and meeting the needs of a little one comes fairly naturally. But being firm and consistent and not letting my buttons get pushed, all of which seem to require a certain emotional detachment, is probably not my strong suit. Especially right now, when I seem to squeeze out a few tears every single day.

So, here we are. Boodge and I, both in a transitional state, swirling in the winds of change. I'm hoping to muster the extra strength to do right by my little guy, my Peanut, and myself. It's never easy not knowing what's on the other side. Change is usually good, but in the midst of it I always find myself wishing I could be somehow transported to the point where the dust has settled and the new normal is established. Until then, I suppose I can expect a bit more whining and crankiness--from Boodge, and from me. Here's your first installment.