Today I realized that my 3-year-old isn’t as attached to his special blanket anymore. I realized that I have never rocked my 21-month-old to sleep, because she is the third child and in this house, the third child gets a bedtime kiss and dumped into her crib without ceremony.
Now that my oldest eschews rocking and my middle only lets me do it sometimes, I WANT TO ROCK SOMEONE BEFORE BED, DAMN IT.
Motherhood makes me feel like a crazy person. In fact, I am a crazy person.
To prove my point, I have created a visual aid using a family picture of us from October 2012, two months after The Great Negotiation.
What’s The Great Negotiation? That was the time I spent months trying to convince my poor husband that I wasn’t done having children and we needed more, despite the fact that we were struggling on one income and had two very challenging boys — one of whom was not quite a year old. I felt like we totally needed to throw one more baby into the mix. That made sense to me.
This is how I know that mothers have something deeply, psychologically wrong with them.
The Great Negotiation took place during date night at Outback Steakhouse. My husband eventually wore down and said “FINE. But I have to get a vasectomy before the baby is born.” And I said, “FINE. I’m ordering a beer.”
Less than a year later, our daughter was born.
Less than a year after that, I regretted allowing the vasectomy. Because I have a mental illness.
It’s called Mother.