By Angie Wagner Tales from the crib
WHEN MY FIRST DAUGHTER WAS 3 months old, I went back to work. I cried a few times on the way to my job, but mostly, it worked out well.
We loved the nanny. Our baby was happy. I loved my job and really didn’t have that hard of a time making the transition back to work.
Then came the hurricane. Or, as her birth certificate proclaims: Aubrey.
She’s a different kid. The kind that leaves me out of breath from chasing her so much. The kind that picks up every germ and sends us to the doctor’s office all the time. I worry that the nurses think I have that disease where parents create illness in their child.
Life got a lot more complicated with two. And working and being a mom didn’t seem to be as easy as it once was.
I wanted to be the one to pick up my toddler from school. I wanted to take Aubrey to her gym class or be the one to pick her up out of the crib after her nap.
So I made the decision to take a break from work -- two years, to be exact.
Some of my friends understood completely. Others seemed shocked, saying: “I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’ll be so behind when you return to work.”
Other opinions aside, it was the decision that was best for our family.
Now it’s been two months. I can honestly say I’ve never been more exhausted.I’ve never been so frustrated.And I’ve never been so fulfilled,so eager to start each day.
OK, I admit there are days when I utter: “You are driving me crazy” at least three times. Or when I really would just like to use the bathroom by myself or go to Target and actually look around instead of just grabbing the things we need and getting out as fast as we can.
Why does my baby poop three times a day? Why won’t she nap longer than 45 minutes?
Why does my toddler go into a demon mode and demand that she have a smoothie RIGHT NOW?
It’s nap time and I have promised her if she takes a nap she can have a smoothie. I know, I’m negotiating with a toddler, but I need her to take this nap. Otherwise, she will be a monster and so will I.
Ten minutes pass, and the door opens. Crying.
Her: “I don’t want to take a nap. I’m not tired.”
Me:“I don’t care. I’M tired. Go to sleep or no smoothie.”
Her: “Well, I have to have jammies on to take a nap.”
Me: “No you don’t. Go to sleep or I’m calling Daddy.” (Maybe this will work?) I leave the room. Ten minutes later the door opens again. Her: “Did you call Daddy?” Me: “I’m getting ready to. Now GO TO SLEEP.”
What I really want to say is,“You are driving me bonkers and I really just need an hour where you and your sister are sleeping.”
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on June 12, 2007. Read the original PDF.