Eloise's Diary Entries Diary Navigation: Choose A Diary Entry -------------------- Latest Entry: 4/29/02 -------------------- 3/19/02 2/28/02 1/28/02 1/11/02 12/17/01 12/5/01 11/26/01 11/23/01 11/15/01 11/7/01 10/26/01 10/7/01 9/20/01 8/25/01 8/2/01 7/25/01 6/29/01 6/28/01 6/27/01 6/25/01 6/4/01 5/23/01 5/8/01 4/30/01 4/10/01 4/4/01 3/22/01 3/10/01 2/22/01 2/14/01 2/3/01 1/15/01 12/20/00 12/17/00 -------------------- Eloise's Introduction

February 22, 2001

Thursday 22nd February, 2001.

Pixie will be 15 months old on the 25th… Wow!

I've been doing a lot of soul-searching lately; working hard on my attitude. I've been finding parenting tough and unrewarding for many, many weeks now, and I've really had to look deep in my heart for some answers. It's been enlightening to do some hard-thinking.

I have, in all honesty, been questioning whether I'm a good mother. Somedays, usually bad days, I really, really wonder if I'm just too selfish and short tempered for this job. Like a lot of other women I guess, I always fantasised about being the supremely gentle, always understanding, endlessly patient earth-mother type, with an exquisite ability to solve everyday problems with a wave of a magic wand and a glowing smile, and a constant supply of wholesome chocolate chip cookies (can chocolate cookies be wholesome? Hey, it's my fantasy and I say they can!) spewing forth from the oven coffers. After 4 years studying psychology, a few years working in the counselling arena, and a belief that I was naturally gifted in my ability to emphasise with children and dogs, I guess I thought I'd be a fucking fantabulous mum, always compassionate and understanding, and terrifically patient because I'd take the time to understand what my child was thinking and feeling.

Ya-da-ya-da-ya-da-YA-DA!!!

I can't begin to express how disappointed I am in myself everytime I lose my temper with my little Pixie child. Everytime I burst into a fit of frustration and throw something (usually small and shatterproof…I'd hate to actually break something!) across the room, yank on my hair, stamp my foot and call Pixie every spritely name I can think of…every time I have these outbursts (almost daily at the moment it seems) I find myself spiralling into a whirlpool of self-doubt and loathing that goes something like this:

'I MUST be a crap mother.'

'How could I call my gorgeous curly-headed Pixie names??? What's wrong with me?'

'How could I lose patience with a needy toddler who doesn't know better?'

'It must be making Pixie insecure to have a mother who feels and acts this way.'

'WHY can't I cope? What's WRONG with me???'

'If I continue to feel resentful I'll end up wishing what could be the best years of my life away.'

ARRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

But then I attempt some objectivity, (hard I know, in a mother's life), and I actually look at all the things I DO for Pixie and I think, "Hey, shouldn't that make me a good parent?" I mean, she's still 'demand' breast-fed at 15 months, she sleeps in our bed every night and every day, she has the consistency of having a mother with her 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year. I cuddle her whenever she wants it (and sometimes when she doesn't), I play with her, take her to playgroup and toddler gym, I take her to playgrounds, for walks, I TRY and feed her nutritious food. I mean, I'm doing a LOT, right?

Pixie is a 'high maintenance' baby. She demands a lot of attention, has a low frustration threshold, throws tantrums when she doesn't get her way, and is basically a pretty whingey baby ( perhaps like someone we know, hmm?). She has, from her earliest days, always needed to be perpetually ON THE MOVE; she hates sitting still, and DESPISES being restrained (ie, car seat and high-chair). The only time I've ever seen her voluntarily sit still is when she's sick with a fever, or when she's watching the favourite bits of her videos. She's always been extremely vocal about her likes and dislikes: she complains LONG and LOUD when she is bored, unhappy, or restrained. If she doesn't like what you're doing, she'll yell at you; if she finds herself 'barred' from something she wants (a cupboard, a room, whatever) she will scream and wail like the daughter of Zeus!

Pixie is anything BUT an easy-going child…she really doesn't have a drop of easy-going blood in her veins! She knows what she likes and DISLIKES, and she wants it her way, OR ELSE! Lately she's decided she wants to be 'demand' breast-fed again. The other night she woke up FOUR TIMES whining at me for a feed. Today she came over to me and tugged and my top and wailed SIX TIMES….I am feeding her about 10 times in every 24 hours. Isn't this insane for a 15 month old??? I'm beginning to suspect my milk-supply must be dropping and she's trying to rebuild it. Maybe all the STRESS is taking it's toll on my lactating-abilities!!!!!!!!!

I didn't intend to breast-feed her well into her second year, but there is no way in hell Pixie would acquiesce to weaning. I am totally convinced she would throw the biggest tantrums under the sun, and would make my life a living misery, and I feel sure this would seriously damage our relationship. She might lose trust in me, and she'd probably become even more demanding (is this possible?) to compensate.

You know, I've been reading a fair share of child-care books during my soul-searching, looking for clues, looking for answers, and the more 'natural' (for want of the right word) parenting approaches tend to imply that if you have a very demanding child then it is because some need within them has not been met. Theoretically I can see the logic in the argument, but I've beat myself black and blue trying to see WHERE I have failed Pixie to make her so demanding of me??? I mean, I breast-feed on demand, she sleeps in our bed, snuggled between Jai and I, every night, she is lavished with more affection than her naturally unaffectionate nature can take (she often pushes us away), she has my constant attention, she has never cried for me and I've not been there. We play together, laugh together, wrestle together; I tickle her, read to her, sing to her, take her places. WHERE, OH WHERE, HAVE I FAILED HER NEEDS???????????????


See, I'm wreaked with mother-guilt already! I seem to want to take the blame for Pixie being the way she is: difficult, demanding, exhausting. Well, the only thing I AM guilty of is resenting her…oops, that's a biggie isn't it? Yes, time for confessions…I have resented how much work she is, I have wished for her to be a different kind of baby (ie, easy, placid and porky!), I have yelled at her to "shut up," I have cried because of her, and complained ENDLESSLY to whoever will listen about how "difficult" she is. And you wanna know something? I feel really, really, REALLY horrible about it. I feel guilty, unworthy, ashamed, and deficient. I worry that I don't love her enough, despite the fact that I love her immensely. But shouldn't my love be big enough to conquer all my anger, and resentment, and disappointment????????? I can no longer stomach it; I can no longer accept these feeling within my heart. It is time I took stock of the situation and CHANGED MY ATTITUDE SO IT NO LONGER STINKS TO HIGH HEAVEN!

I am really sick at heart when I think of all the complaining I've done about Pixie. I feel mean, fickle, selfish, horrible. I hate myself for complaining about her "relentless" personality, her "demandingness," her "bossiness," her "naughtiness." I mean, let's face it, she IS all of the above, but she is also SO MUCH MORE. I feel so guilty, like I'm somehow betraying her, selling her short, when I crap on and on about the negatives, to the expense of her positive traits.

So it's time to redefine Pixie. Time to see her and talk about her in a proud and positive light. It's time to focus on her strengths and stop blaming her, for what are, essentially, MY OWN weaknesses (exhaustion, impatience, and chronic complaining.)

It is time I opened my arms and accepted Pixie without reservation, without conditions, without disappointment, and without complaint. I want to love her FIERCELY for exactly who she is, despite the exhaustion. I need to throw myself 110% into parenting, so there is no room for resentment or doubt. I need to FEEL that this is the most profound and important and intense experience of my life, and that I am ready to give myself WHOLEHEARTEDLY over to it. It's time to STOP conserving energy for other things, time to STOP watching the clock and waiting for my "pixie-free-time". I have been holding back, trying to protect myself from the onslaught, but it's time to face it, head on, to give myself over to it, unconditionally.

I think parenting is a role that requires 150% of your energy and commitment. Hell, maybe more! It burns you up like a forest fire: it is all-pervasive and all-consuming, it burns through your life and leaves nothing untouched, nothing as it was. The landscape changes completely, and it's useless to keep looking back to what was. You have to continually look forward, and adapt. And after the raging fire dies out, then comes the regrowth; and we all know that after a fire has swept through, the soil is far richer and more fertile than before. It stimulates growth, despite the pain.

Maybe it's the way I've grown-up in this society of ease and luxury, instant gratification and high expectations. I feel like it's spoiled me for parenting. Somebody should make it compulsory to tattoo onto every pregnant woman's stomach: THE LIFE OF A MOTHER IS ONE OF SACRIFICE. YOU WILL GIVE, AND GIVE, AND GIVE, UNTIL YOU THINK YOU CAN GIVE NO MORE. AND THEN YOU'LL GIVE AGAIN. IN RETURN YOU GET 'BIG LOVE'.

I am spoiled. I resent all the sacrifices. I am fighting against them like a cornered pig. But what did I expect??? I expected all the good, yummy, warm-and-tingly bits. I am shocked and devastated by the work and sacrifice, the sheer relentlessness of it all. I wasn't trained for this; nobody trained me for the sacrifices. I was totally unprepared; thrown into the desert without a canteen, pushed into the marathon without any training, shoved off the deep-end without any floaties. But I can't change it now. There's no going back, I can only move forward. And resenting what you cannot change just eats you up inside. It is purely negative. And completely pointless.

I am a parent. This is what I do; this is what I AM. I AM PIXIE'S MOTHER.

I chose to welcome a child/soul/life into my world. Some greater plan, some wider vision than my poor brain can comprehend, calculated that Pixie was the perfect child for me (us), and I the perfect mother for her. Pixie is a strong and fierce little girl, with boundless energy and a burning curiosity. She has a tremendous drive to learn, to explore, to amuse, to be amused. She has strong feelings and knows exactly what she likes and dislikes. She will never be wishy-washy, indecisive, or weak-willed. She is a powerhouse, a dynamo, a bright burning blazing star shooting across the night sky, you can't ignore her. She chose me for her mother, for her first guide, and I willingly give myself over to the task, no matter how hard, no matter how difficult, no matter how exhausting. I will try to teach my daughter love without reservation, trust without fear, belief without doubt, acceptance without conditions.

I love you little Pixie, so bear with me while I learn how to be the mother you deserve. Know that you will never, EVER, leave my heart, not for a single moment of my life.

I only hope I can be worthy of your bright spirit, and help you to shine.

Love always and forever, MUM.

XXX.