Last year was my first full year of being a momma and the expression that summed up 2013 for me, as you might remember, was:

Holyshitfuck!

As the close of my second year draws near, I am more seasoned and less shell-shocked. Yet, I am still reeling and confused most of the time as I find my way as a momma with no manual to guide me.

I’ve been struggling as a parent a lot lately. This transition from totally dependent, sweet but all consuming baby into an individuated, unpredictable being that wants different things than I do is…really freaking hard. And it happened so fast. When did it happen exactly???

 

Over the last few weeks there have been days where Mattie refuses nearly every diaper change, clothes change, and god forbid putting on his coat, boots, hat and mittens to go outside. I have found myself avoiding leaving the house unless absolutely necessary rather than engage in this struggle.

Last week he had his first dentist appointment, which he was actually looking forward to for some time. We practiced playing dentist and talked about it a lot and he was totally into it.

Until the morning of the appointment, that is. When it was actually time to get ready to go.

He was playing happily by himself, so I got myself ready and let him know that soon it would be time to go. I tried everything in my toolbox to make the transition as smooth as possible. But when it came time that we couldn’t delay any longer, a total meltdown ensued. He screamed and cried and refused my every effort – such that I had to physically force diaper and every item of clothing onto a thrashing, sobbing child. He, meanwhile, tried to remove each item – while insisting repeatedly that I put his dirty diaper BACK ON. This painful struggle carried on as I buckled him into his car seat against his will, and then he continued to sob for the entire drive to the dentist’s office, repeatedly telling me he wanted to GO HOME!  So. Hard.

All I could do was breathe deeply and say, “I know, honey, I know. I love you.”

Somehow I managed to remain calm through all of this — approximately 30 minutes of sobbing and struggling in total. This is not true of every meltdown; more often I find myself equally frustrated and impatient, which causes me to hate myself on top of everything else.

Thankfully after entering the dentist’s office the transition to the new environment snapped him out of it. It usually does. And the visit was a success, more or less. The fact that we made it into the exam room at all was a total success in my mind, given the effort and the doubts I had about getting there at all in the midst of our sad battle.

And then?! Then for the rest of the day he was cooperative, happy, snuggly and truly delightful to be around.

When we left the dentist’s he willingly climbed into his car seat (frequently a trigger for struggle) and was eager to join me in a trip to the grocery store. He happily ate $7 organic strawberries under the cart singing and talking to me the whole trip.

I have to say (and pardon my language), this is a total mind fuck – how these vastly different personalities exist within this same little being (who was a baby who didn’t talk, I swear, two seconds ago) – and how quickly he can flip from one to the other. I can relate to this in myself, of course, as these extremes exist within all of us. But to witness my baby transforming into this little complex person is fascinating, flabbergasting.

 

Take this conversation, which took place later the same day while unloading groceries, to highlight this complexity:

Mattie: Are you happy momma?

(This was out of nowhere; I have no idea what prompted this question.)

Me: Why, yes, Mattie. I am happy right now. Are you?

Mattie: Uh-huh.

Me: Do you remember how sad you were when we left the house earlier? When you cried and cried because you didn’t want to leave the house?

Mattie: Huh. (Pause.) Uh-huh.

Then ten minutes later:

Mattie: Momma, was I crying because I didn’t want to leave the house?

Me: Yes, honey, you were.

Mattie: Why???

(Why?! Wow. I am taken aback. How to respond??)

Deep breath…

Me: I don’t know, my love. You didn’t want to leave when it was time to go. And so you got really upset.

Mattie: Huh.

”Huh”, is right…

I never know from one moment to the next if what I say, what I do, is the right thing. But I leave this conversation feeling both exasperated and like maybe, just maybe, I am doing something right after all.

*****

And then to contrast the meltdown episode even further, this happened recently:

Mattie and I are cuddling on the couch together, looking at books. He’s nestled under my arm and I lean down to kiss his head and say, “I love you, Mattie”, like I do at least 100 times per day.

This time, however, he looks up and says, “I love you too, momma”, like it’s the most natural thing in the whole world.

Except that it isn’t.

It’s the very first time he has told me he loves me, and I melt and soak it in, hand to my tender heart.

That was a couple of weeks ago. Now he whispers it to me regularly, often saying it just like I do: “I love you so much, momma”. And each time, every time, my heart melts a little more.

*****

This mothering stuff is so complex. It takes my breath away. Daily. One moment because I’m so frustrated and pushed to my farthest edge and the next because I’m completely overwhelmed by the swelling of love inside me I can barely stand it.

Yes, it IS a total mind fuck – which seems to be an appropriate phrase to describe my life right now, 2014, year two of motherhood.

Maybe some year soon my reflection on the year won’t feature the “F” word. (She says, hopefully.) Or, maybe (more likely?) it will continue to turn up year after year, as I muddle my way through each new phase of Mattie’s development, parenting, and life. But who am I to even venture a guess about anything the future holds?? If I can’t predict what my life will be like from one hour to the next, a whole year is certainly beyond my capacity to comprehend.