I haven’t yelled at my daughter in over 24 hours.
I can’t believe I am able to say that. I can’t believe I have to say that.
We’re still in the midst of our move from Louisiana to Florida, though we are in Florida. We’re currently homeless, but staying in a borrowed vacation condo owned by a very generous friend.
On the way here, 400+ miles from our destination, our rental truck broke down. This fiasco included 5 hours roadside in the middle of the night with an exhausted, hungry toddler, a fight with the truck rental company, and eventually an overnight tow of over 400 miles. Thankfully the tow truck had a sleeper car.
We stayed with my inlaws for a few nights (the longest days and nights of my life). The house is filled with dogs and breakables, and I think I spent about 90% of my waking hours screaming “no!” and “get away from that!” and “stop!” as my poor, bored child tried to enjoy herself. Unfortunately, the waking hours were also very long since I couldn’t seem to sleep.
Our move had gone from well-planned to nightmarish. Since the truck was broken we couldn’t drive it to the storage facility, so we had to borrow a box truck from friends, hire some movers via Craigslist and move everything from truck A to truck B to the storage facility.
We got to the borrowed condo yesterday afternoon in the pouring rain. I hadn’t slept in 3 days, I had to walk around on eggshells with my mother in law and this poor sweet baby girl was bored, exhausted and frustrated. My anxiety level was through the roof.
Since we arrived we have: eaten, slept, napped, cuddled, snacked and enjoyed the moments of sunshine between rain storms. She is more relaxed and happy. I am more relaxed and happy. I haven’t had to yell, she hasn’t had to cry. Life is good.
We just have to find a real place to live now.
We’re in the middle of a long distance move, so things in our house are rather chaotic. The things that stay as “same” as possible have to do with Miss P’s schedule.
I completely forgot about the time change in all of the madness, so we didn’t get a chance to ease her into it. She has handled it pretty well. I haven’t.
This morning we were preparing for the usual library story time (our last one in Louisiana) and I was running a little late. I went back to my room in my pajamas and came back to the living room carrying the clothing I planned to wear for the day. This was so I wouldn’t be out of the room for very long.
Miss P oohed and aahed and exclaimed “BEE!” because I wasn’t wearing a top. I glanced at the clock – there was time for a quick nursing session before we needed to leave. She eagerly climbed up in my lap on the recliner and I leaned back, and… she took my shirt off the end table and draped it over my chest.
“No?” I asked.
“No, no,” she intoned.
I lifted the shirt up. “Boobie?”
She pulled the shirt back down and slid off my lap.
I felt a lump of fear in my throat. Are we done? Just like that? The unremarkable morning nursing session where I wasn’t really paying attention was going to be the last nursing session? Really?
I got dressed, trying not to think about it. I fought back tears all morning.
When we got home from library and errands Miss P matter-of-factly went to the door of the spare bedroom and pounded on it. This is where we go for naptime. I put her up on the bed and pulled up my shirt and she nursed to sleep.
I guess we’re not quite done yet.