I got back from a weekend family trip to New Jersey on Monday. Andrew couldn't make the trip so I was on my own, along with the helping hands of family. I think I bit off a little more than I could chew going solo, but I do feel like I came out feeling like more of a mother than I was telling myself. The second night we were there I had finally nursed Ev to sleep and I was sitting on the floor with a tiny light to read by and she started to cry. I used all my tricks in my bag to get her to sleep before scooping her up and starting to sway side to side.
I need this right now. I need this right now, baby girl. I need this. Please go back to sleep so I can read and just have silence.
I pleaded. Hard.
I pleaded. Hard.
At the same time I realized I was staring at the tennis playing bear picture that has been hanging in my Grandmother's guest room for my entire 29 years. Back and forth I rocked looking at that bear, silently pleading with my baby to go to sleep. I knew I would give out soon physically from lunging with my little 17 lb baby but I suddenly started to feel like the tennis bear was taunting me. Those balled up fist, beady eyes, and scowl face. He wanted to take me on. I kept on my side of the court, swiveling side to side.
I will win bear.
I will win.
She started to feel like she was getting heavy again. She was almost there.
The bear gave up and/or Ev fell back asleep and I placed in her the springy bed with a fortress of pillows surrounding her.
This week has put me face to face with that bear more than once. It has been mentally tough and one of those weeks where you just keep saying "what else do you got for me life?". But the bear won't win. We'll keep on keepin' on and I will win.