Published on December 19th, 2016 | by Malin James
2ONE THOUGHT I HAD TODAY by Malin James
No one had warned her that having a toddler would be so grindingly, achingly hard that pumping milk at all hours would seem like a dream, a dream within a nightmarish dream, because it was hard—really, really hard—what with it scooting and getting into shit that it couldn’t reach before; and oh, my god, she just thought of her baby as it and it wasn’t a comfortable thing to call a person, especially not your moon-faced Snuggle Bunny; and it certainly didn’t make her feel like an awesome, up-for-anything magazine mom, which didn’t help because she wasn’t a magazine mom with an applesauce smile and peek-a-boo eyes, and the fact that she was trying didn’t matter at all because her baby just fell into a doorknob and got a black eye, which meant CPS would come and take her child away; and that would be awful but even more awful was the fact she wouldn’t mind—not so much, not at first— because then she could rest and think a grown up thought before lawyers and judges and social workers got involved; and oh, my god, it would be awful but then she could grab a nap while strangers watched her kid because Jesus she needed a break, but there are no breaks for parents, as her mother always said, as her fucking mother always said, there’s only one more day, but the day keeps getting harder and then harder some more, especially when your baby isn’t a baby anymore, but a toddler who wobbles and falls over cats and hits her face on door-knobs and gets into so much shit that you call her an it and then berate yourself for it, because you are a horrible parent and a horrible person for wishing even for a minute, even for a second, that someone would come and care for your child and let you rest and not stoop and crawl on the ground, not forever but for now, for maybe a little longer than for now, for maybe a little longer than you want to admit.
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