The Unhappiest Baby on the Block
Sometimes I feel like smoke is going to come out of my ears and the top of my head is going to pop off like in a Looney Tunes cartoon. I try to practice all of the gentle parenting tricks of the trade. I wear him, I nurse him, I speak gently to him. Then there are times when I put him down, turn on the TV and snap at him. I hate myself on those days. Sometimes it seems every day.
I tell myself I have to stop writing about this, shut down the Facebook page and stop working on this Attachment Parenting mission because I am fraud. I am not gentle. I am terrible and awful and a bad mother. I cry. I cry. I cry.
Sometimes I think Jack deserves better. Like I should get a job and send him to daycare where someone else might give him the love and nurturance that he needs. That I can’t give him. That I fail at on a daily basis.
I snuggle him when he sleeps. He latches on. His face is peaceful. I kiss his head. It’s warm. I have to do better. I have to be better. I just have to.
Abby Theuring, MSW
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