The last week or so, we have discovered that NikkiZ might be turning into quite a Momma’s Girl. She has started just automatically fussing when I pass her off to MrZ. At first? I thought, “Oh! She likes me, she really likes me!” Then, I blew it off to her being tired or hungry or teething or whatever because it was hard for me to imagine her being a Momma’s Girl. I leave her at daycare everyday, she can’t be THAT attached to me. Of course, the more I realized that she stopped crying immediately when I took her back from him? The more I had to face the fact that we were starting a trend I did NOT need to see through. Two working parents and two kids – everyone must be flexible or else everyone is miserable.
After further analysis, I realized something about our parenting dynamic: I am the default setting. NikkiZ still needs constant care, obviously. We can leave her in the excersaucer for a bit, or we can put her on the floor with toys, but she still needs constant supervision.
(Except when we lock her in the cage, then she’s fine for several hours. That is, as long as I leave her peanut butter covered steak bites to snack on.)
Once MrZ and I get home from work? That job of babysitter falls on my shoulders – unless I pass it off to someone else. Now, this wasnt anything I set out to do, it just kinda happened that way. MrZ takes care of her when/if I ask him to. Of course, he never says “No” and is 100% willing to take Baby Duty all the time, but unless I ask? He’s not going to just come take her from me when he’s enjoying some quality time with the TiVo. And how often do you think I ask for help? Yeah. Exactly.
So, this week? Every afternoon I have left the house for 30 minutes to an hour. NikkiZ has not been a huge fan of this situation, but its growing on her. This is hard on the both of us because MrZ feels like she hates him and that we’re having to FORCE her to like him. And its hard on me because I feel like I’m pawning my responsibilities off onto him. I’d rather carry her around the house while I do laundry, cook dinner, and clean toilets – all while he’s playing on his laptop – than to actually ASK him to watch her for a minute. The idea of “asking” for help makes me feel as though I’m admitting I can’t do it alone. AND I CAN, DAMMIT. WATCH ME.
What is wrong with me? I have a perfectly able and willing husband who would love to help out, but I don’t ever ask. It’s a sickness, this compulsive disorder of mine, that I have to do EVERYTHING myself or else? I’m a failure. Maybe it’s because my Dad raised me and my brother and did it all without help. I feel like I’m not living up to his example if I can’t entertain a toddler and fold clothes at the same time. Or maybe I’m just a control freak who can’t let go of anything long enough to let someone help me.
(Because I don’t NEED help, DAMMIT. I can do it BY MYSELF. BACK OFF.)
I guess I need to learn to ask more, and MrZ? Needs to just do it. He needs to notice, “Hey – Z is washing dishes while she’s entertaining the baby, maybe I’ll go help her out since she’s too stubborn to aks for help.”