I’m watching the tribute to Billy Mays on Pitchmen. I have to say, I am more upset about the death of Billy Mays than the death of Michael Jackson. Jacko was a strange, confused, sad man who had taken himself out of the spotlight years ago, though there’s no question he was an amazing performer and musician who changed the face of music. But Billy Mays was a man in his prime, at the top of his game, and cruelly taken away at the height of his life. Every time I see the pallbearers lifting his coffin, with his son who looks so much like him, it gets me once again. Watching this, I have a huge lump in my throat.
This motherhood thing, I’m not sure I can do this. I know it’s a little late to be having second thoughts, but I am at a loss. If it’s not Grace acting up because I’m paying too much attention to Mary Ellen, it’s ME fussing about just about everything because she’s at that age. The only time I get a little break is when they’re both asleep. Even that is no guarantee. Mary Ellen’s been waking up around 11pm almost every night, screaming her fool head off, and refusing to go back to sleep. I’m assuming she’s teething, which means there is nothing I can do for her except dose her up on Tylenol when she becomes inconsolable.
Grace has been driving me up a wall. Everyone who’s met her has praised me for the lovely, sweet child she’s turned out to be. Honestly, I don’t know where that little girl has gone. I know she’s probably having jealousy issues that have finally started to set in ten months after Mary Ellen was born. But it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.
Last night Mary Ellen took her first steps. She hauled herself to a standing position by holding onto Grace’s doll stroller, and she ended up walking a few steps across my friend’s living room while pushing the stroller. I managed to catch it on video, but in the background, all you hear is Grace grunting and shouting because the focus is on Mary Ellen, and not on her.
All day long it’s nothing but “Watch this, Mommy!” or “Mommy, look at me!” I do try. I try to give her as much as my attention as possible because I know it’s hard to share when you’re using to having Mommy all to yourself. Lately the instant I take my eyes off her, she does whatever it takes to get my attention once more — and if that’s negative attention, so be it. But I have to cook, I have to change ME’s diaper, I have to take a shower!
It’s wearing me down. It’s wearing me out. Maybe it was a mistake to wait so long between children; maybe it would have been easier to have kids much closer together. That way Grace wouldn’t really remember what it was like to be an only child. All she would know is life with her sister.
The only thing that keeps me going is knowing this is probably just a phase, and knowing that by the time Kurt leaves again, Mary Ellen will be a much more independent child. I won’t have to focus so wholly on her, and I can divide my time between them much more easily.
Thank God Kurt gets home tomorrow. I need a break.