I could not be happier that it's Friday tomorrow. This week has chewed me up & spit me out a few times over.
Breathe....
Breathe....
Breathe....
Ahhhhh. Better. So here's the recap.
The working mommy in me definitely gets an A+. We're preparing for a new media presentation to a client next week and I'm in super time crunch mode. But multiple disasters have managed to occur with other clients at the exact same time. Clients who have needed nothing for the past month have managed to explode all over my desk the exact week I have no extra time. These are the kind of weeks where I desperately need to put in 40 hours, but I only have a third of that to give. If I'm lucky. And lucky is out of my control - it's all about Amelia. And if she's playing nice that day.
The happy mommy squeaks by with a C-. All this stress is making me short-tempered. Amelia's no nap day had me exhausted and incredibly frustrated, and I know I pushed her needs aside more than I should have. That does not make me happy at all. It makes me feel guilty and extremely flawed as a mom. The only reason I don't get a big fat 'F' here is because I'm holding on to a little bit of pride that I'm actually in a relationship with the elliptical again. It's only been a few days and I still hate every second of it, but I like that I'm taking charge of my energy level (it does help!) and hopefully the lovely squish around my middle too.
The perfect mommy is in a struggle. I have the opportunity for a long weekend in the Caribbean with my sister. No husband, no kiddo, no work. Part of me (the happy mom) is beyond excited about this idea. Three nights with no responsibility? Waterfront dinners without a highchair, toys, and fruit snacks? A no-brainer, right? Yeah, if only it weren't for this perfect mommy part of me, the one with the biggest attitude and loudest voice of them all, prodding me to give up on my fun and stick with my girl.
"Why spend that money on yourself?" she says.
"What if she gets upset that you're gone?" she says.
Thinking of this trip actually makes me want to cry.
Is my attachment abnormal?
Or "perfect"?
So I ask... what would a perfect mommy do?
