Last week I had a meltdown, but Deyton started it.
We were in the grocery store when we shouldn’t have been, right before dinner time, after a long day at work. I was hurried and she was hungry, actually hangry is more accurate. I made it to the checkout line just barely when the meltdown started. It was epic! Flailing, screaming, big, giant tears! Not even the strap in the cart could keep her at bay, she was escaping. So I grabbed her and she hit me and arched her back. I was THAT mom and she was THAT child. I couldn’t put my groceries on the belt and hold my erupting child at the same time so I put her down on the ground. She started banging her head on the ground and the people around me started to stare. Maybe they weren’t staring, I didn’t actually take the time to look, but it felt like they were.
Then a nice lady came up to me, put her hand on my shoulder and asked if she could help me unload my cart so I could deal with my
monster baby on the ground. I wanted to tell her “No, you deal with the monster baby on the ground!” But instead I smiled, said thanks and scooped up my little monster and tried to distract her with the buttons on the debit card machine. It worked, kinda.
When I got home I had my own meltdown. I snapped at Farmer Ross for no good reason other than the fact that I was emotionally drained. I didn’t share with him why I was so upset and instead found something else to be mad about. Why do we do that? I fed my
monster baby dinner and then put her to bed early so I could take a long, hot shower. I was still mad at Farmer Ross because I felt alone in that moment and I hate that feeling. When the hot water ran out I got out of the shower, I put my PJs on and decided I needed to vent.
Farmer Ross listened as I made a long list of everything that was “wrong”. And after my vent I started sobbing. That was Farmer Ross’ que that there is something I wasn’t saying. He knows me well. He waited and asked again, “what’s wrong”. I told him I felt alone. Lonely.
We are busy with the farm, work, holiday preparations, and a baby. Farmer Ross has the work ethic of a plow horse. He puts most men to shame when it comes to taking care of his family. Most of the time I love watching him work and seeing all that we build together. But some times, this time, I needed my husband to just hang out with me. I needed a day of getting nothing accomplished except good quality time together. No grocery shopping, no chores, no real life. He agreed. I told him I wanted him to plan it, because I plan almost everything we do. He agreed again and I fell in love with him again.
This Saturday was our day and Ross planned a day in the snow. We got to spend quality time with one another, Deyton and Henry. We parented together. We aunt and uncled together. We laughed together. There were tears and meltdowns, twice as many as usual since there were two babies, but it was okay because he was with me. We made memories together. There will be more meltdowns I am sure of it, but sometimes the worst times bring out the best in people, lead to great memories and lessons learned. I am lucky because I have a husband who sees beyond the sometimes naggy, angry, dramatic, overwhelmed surface and sees his wife, the mother of his child and the girl he met in a bar. He cares deeply for me and because I know that I feel safe enough to tell him how I really feel, even if it takes some time. And when I do peel back the layers and get vulnerable he rewards me by doing the same. I am a lucky woman. Take note men, this is how you do it!