A Crack in the Facade

Today was one of those days when you second-guess every action you take and every decision you make. Daniel wanted to play games instead of eat his breakfast, and after he let his food spill out of his mouth and down his chin for the fourth time, I decided that breakfast was over. Should I have persisted? He may have eaten more, but it would have taken at least another half-hour. We were already running late for Gymboree. I got angry with him when I was changing his diaper. It was time to leave and he kept rolling over and coming dangerously close to flinging his dirty diaper onto the floor. We finally got to Gymboree, where Daniel spent the entire class walking away from the group and yelling in frustration every time he got stuck on a piece of equipment. Already exasperated, I spent the entire class listening to the other mommies talk about how far along they were in their second pregnancies. Was everyone in Gymboree today pregnant? It sure seemed that way. I was happy to get out of there.

Lunch went more smoothly and Daniel went right down for his nap, but I am just now catching my breath and reflecting on the morning. I guess I should be thrilled that my very good days as a stay-at-home mom greatly outweigh my not-so-sunny days. There will always be someone having a better day than me, and someone having a much worse day. Sometimes, though, I think it's healthy to admit that it wasn't a good day to be a stay-at-home mom. I'm always suspicious of those moms who insist that everything is sunshine and roses, all of the time. This is hard work. Stressful, tiring, sometimes lonely, sometimes unrewarding. So why am I so jealous of the pregnant mommies at Gymboree?