Saturday, May 16, 2015

Trapped by Sweet Charlotte



This one time, I had planned for some much-needed time away - just a few hours, of course.  I had a babysitter lined up and everything.  ...  And then, Charlotte had a horrible, crazy-fussy day...  So I ended up staying home to keep the peace.

And then, this other time, I had planned to meet with some friends to have a little scrapbooking retreat day.  As luck would have it, Charlotte happened to be going through an incredibly nuts-o, topsy-turvy sleep crisis that week month - complete with screaming, fighting, hours of rocking, etc.  So, I stayed home again.  Anything to get my baby to sleep...

This one other time, Mark and I had finally snuck away to catch up with some dear friends for lunch.  Unfortunately, Charlotte decided to have a little screaming fit for the poor babysitter, so I ran home prematurely to evade shorten another crisis.

Just this week, Mark and I had planned to take a mini-trip to see the musical Wicked (a three-year-in-the-making-dream), and you know what?  We sold the tickets on Craigslist.  Because...Charlotte.

And, just yesterday, we decided to cancel our entire (desperately needed) family vacation.  Why?  I'll give you one guess...

Charlotte.

She is attached to my hip.  She may as well be duct-taped there.  She will not eat or sleep or cooperate for anyone else - not even Daddy.  
"She was fierce, she was strong, she wasn't simple.  She was crazy, and sometimes she barely slept.  She always had something to say.  She had flaws, and that was okay.  And when she was down, she got right back up.  She was a beast in her own way, but one idea described her best.  She was unstoppable, and she took anything she wanted with a smile."  -R.M. Drake
So, you see, I am trapped in my own home with a beast - my sweet Charlotte.

Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week - she demands I stay, parent, and attend to her every whim.

And, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Sure, I've cried about it.  I've felt overwhelmed.  I've drank a few extra glasses of wine, eaten a few extra pieces of dark chocolate, read some extra Psalms of Lament and thrown a few extra pity parties for myself.  (More to come, I'm sure.)

But, I still wouldn't have it any other way.

Though I'm tired and discouraged, I am very aware this season will pass all-too-quickly.

Someday, the whirlwind will be over.  The house will be empty.  No one will be around to throw up on my furniture or poop on the sheets.  No one will need extra hugs and snuggles and songs at 7, and then 9 and then 1, and then 3 in the morning.  No more diapers, no more footie pajamas, no more chubby cheeks and stubby toes.  No more board books and puzzle pieces and high-pitched jingly toys.  No more squeals and giggles.  Everything will be different.  My house will be clean.  The dishes will be caught up.  I will go on vacations with my husband, attend musicals and scrapbooking retreats, spend plenty of afternoons in coffee shops...

...and I will miss her.

I will wish to be back, trapped in my own home, with my sweet Charlotte.
SHARE:

1 comment

  1. So I never got around to commenting on this except for in my head, and my husband says things I say in my head don't always count…so.

    I was this baby. I was baby Charlotte for my mom. She couldn't catch a break because I only wanted her. 24/7. I didn't sleep much at all. I would occasionally let my dad hold me long enough for her to shower. One time they tried to go camping and I was screaming so loudly my mom decided it would just be best if she took me home…at two in the morning…so I didn't wake up other campers. And I stayed wide awake the entire ride home. She would finally get me to sleep, lay me in my crib, and literally crawl out of the room. She often didn't make it to the door before I would cry again, and she said she often just laid on the floor next to my crib and cried with me.

    It was a long couple of years for her. But I obviously became her favorite, which is the moral of this story ;). Just kidding. I say this because one day C will look at you with the same type of admiration which I look at my mother. And deep respect. And sincerest apologies.

    ReplyDelete

© The DeYounge Life. All rights reserved.
MINIMAL BLOGGER TEMPLATES BY pipdig