I wondered a lot this past weekend about my ability to be a parent. The Kid was in rare form all weekend and everything was a struggle. If we went somewhere, she wanted to be carried. If I picked her up she wanted to walk and as soon as I would set her down she would throw a tantrum because she wanted to be carried. She would let me know she was thirsty, so I would get her some water. NO! She wanted MILK, damnit! Typical 2-year old stuff, or so I'm told. But it just seemed like it was EVERYTHING. And when we have these little bouts of 'the naughties' I can't help but think "Maybe I'm not a good mom and I'm not doing the best job for The Kid."
But then, just as I'm about to yank that last clump of hair out of my head, something like this will happen.
This was right after I asked her if she wanted to take a bath (I overheard some other moms saying that it was a great mood stabilizer for babies). She tried to pull her shirt off and it got stuck on her head. But did that stop her from prancing around home like it was the latest fashion craze sweeping the nation? NO! But she did throw a fit when I took it off her and put her in the tub.
So, I do have the nagging stinkin' thinkin' thoughts from time to time...but then I think about when I put her to bed tonight and put Towelie in her left arm and Bunny Bear in her right arm. I wrapped her up like a tortilla in the fuzzy pink blanket, rubbed her tummy, kissed her forehead and told her I loved her and that I would see her in the morning. If she had some other mom, they might not know to do all that!
As I'm standing by her crib, and looking down at that sweet little face, pretending to snore and keep her eyes shut, all the while giggling, I can't help but think that I AM the best mom for her. Because she is The Best Kid for me.