A Crappy Morning and an Elton John Song

Yesterday was a rough morning.  We had a time, that's for sure.

Our normal morning routine begins with me taking a shower before Leah wakes up.  Then when I'm getting dressed I usually hear her wake.  She helps me make my bed and then we get her dressed before heading to the family room, where she sits and eats her breakfast (pancakes) and watches Barney.  In the 23 minutes that Barney is on, I make coffee, make my breakfast, do my hair, put on my makeup, pack my briefcase and feed the pets.  Oh, and I do all of this while checking on Leah every 3 minutes or so, because hello? She could be choking.

Here is where you  might want to criticize my decision to allow Leah to watch Barney while eating breakfast.

Here is where I'm ignoring you.  Because all of the above stuff happens before 7:30 a.m., and if you know of a better way to get all of the stuff I need to get done while a child is following me at that time of day, then you're a better parent than me.  Also, write a book.

After all of that is done, Leah brushes her teeth, grabs her lunch box and we walk over to Gabrielle's, who watches her for the day. 

Leah is a creature of habit, so as long as you don't mess with her schedule, all is well.

Except yesterday, she slept late, so, by the time we made it to the family room for breakfast, it was already 7:15, and we only had 15 minutes to eat, watch Barney, and brush her teeth.  This change didn't bode well for her.  (You can imagine what my hair and make up looked like, as well.)

By the time I wrestled her, in tears, to Gabrielle's, I was an emotional mess.  She had thrown a major tantrum when I turned off Barney mid-show; I had to literally hold her arms down in order to brush her teeth; her uneaten breakfast was in a baggie for her to have at Gab's house, and she was not happy about that.  There had been a syrup incident.  I don't remember if I even fed Ruby.  I can't recall if I was wearing shoes.  Suffice to say, it was all really overwhelming. 

And as I was struggling to get out of the house by 7:30, I KNEW what was necessary.  I KNEW what would make this right.  I KNEW that I should have called work and told them I had to take a day, called Gab and told her Leah wasn't coming, and I should have just spent the day with my daughter.  I knew she needed that.  We needed that.

But yesterday was Tuesday.  And I have an important meeting every Tuesday morning.  And I couldn't call in.  And I just felt terrible.

Once I got in the car and started driving I began to calm down.  Until Howard Stern began discussing the song "Levon" by Elton John.  In the song Levon has a son named Jesus who works for the family business but wants to leave and do his own thing.  And Levon's really sad.

It got me thinking.  Right now Leah wants to spend time with me.  And soon, like Jesus (Levon's son, I'm not getting religious here or anything) she's going to want nothing to do with me.  Soon, I'll be that thorn in her side, making her come on vacations with us, making her come to visit her grandfather every week, enforcing her curfew.  And I can't help but notice the irony in the situation.

Right now, when she wants to spend time with me, I can't do it.  I have to work.  I don't have a choice in the matter so I'm not even going to get into the stay-at-home-mom verses the working mom debate.  I'm over that. (For now.)  I have to leave Leah at times and go to work.  And she wants me to be with her.  And it kills me that at some point the tables will turn and she will no longer need me.  No longer want me to stay home with her.  With my luck, the day I retire is the day she will decide that parents are lame.

So, it sucked, and then I cried, and then I was ok.  But, it's still worth mentioning that when people say that parenting is an emotional rollercoaster, they are most definately not kidding.
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