Failing...but I can do it!

I could feel the tears welling up inside as my face turned a bright red. We were at Target, and again Lena was not happy. Her screaming was echoing through the aisles and I could sense the glares of other shoppers. What was wrong with her...she had milk, juice, 3 different kind of snacks, toys, and a mother who was willing do ANYTHING to get her to just stop screaming. It wasn't long until I realized she wanted a bottle, the one thing I didn't pack since we are trying to completely wean her from them. So I threw a pack in the cart. It was there in the baby aisle that I called Josh at work with my meltdown.

I was basically insisting that he leave work now. I had drove 30/45 minutes to Mooresville (where his work is located) just so he could meet me after to help load the groceries in the car. What was I thinking? Of course he can't just go to his boss and explain that his overly hormonal, pregnant wife, was having a meltdown at Target and it was urgent that he left. I knew this. I think what I was needing to hear was..."it's ok, you're a great mom..."!! Instead I got..."Ashley I can't leave work, just go home"!!

GO HOME!!???

I just packed up Lena's room, got her ready, me ready, battled the 98 degree weather, and drove our butts 45 minutes across town!! I am NOT going home empty handed. So I ran through the aisles, with a semi-happy baby (she had found her yogurt snacks, but they were quickly being devoured) trying to beat the crying I knew was about to ensue.
After getting the car, pouring her milk out of sippy into the 3 dollar bottle, I sat in the car and cried. It wasn't long before the four ounces of milk were in her tummy and the screaming began again. I had tried to call my mom for some sort of reassurance, but all I got was a "I don't know what to tell you, I'm at the hospital and can't talk"!! Another fail, I'd forgotten about my Grandmother's surgery.
We drove the 45 minutes back home, both welled up with tears and utter exhaustion. "I can't do this...I have a hard enough time handling one baby when I am out, what am I going to do when that number doubles...and it's two on one" My brain was nothing short of an enemy during that long drive. I was filled with thoughts of complete failure:

"My husband doesn't like me-and for good reason, he's definitely not getting the attention a husband deserves, my house is a mess, the laundry is piled up, my roots look horrible, I haven't had a haircut in months, there's nothing to eat in the house, I forgot the milk, theres a bag of day old dirty diapers stenching up the baby room....SERIOUSLY!!!!!"

Finally making it home, I got Lena stripped, changed, and into an empty pack n play, where I gave her an organic food pouch (one of the few things I successfully got) a fresh bottle of milk, and a sippy of juice, turned on Toy Story, and cried on the couch!!
During that time Josh called, twice, the second time he was greeted with my "what do you want"!! Poor guy, why do I do that! I don't want to yell at him, I don't want to be mean, but it's like this verbal puke that I just can't control, and I HATE myself for it, which isn't helping my self imposed loathing right now- not to mention he's not one of those husbands who realizes I am a hormonal preggo, instead he takes EVERYTHING personally and what develops is an argument based on nothing!! He asks if I need anything, and I blurt out milk (forget the bread, or nourishment for ourselves, atleast our baby will survive)
So I cry, and pity myself, while Lena gladly devours her pouch and bottle, enjoying her movie (of which I am positive by now she can entirely quote) I didn't see any glimmer of light until later that evening! We were all upstairs playing in Lena's toy area...well Josh was napping (I'm pretty sure I resented him for this) when Lena brought over her babydoll highchair, reached out her hands to me, and say "peez" (please) A word I had been attempting with her for sometime now, and she had just used it, correctly. A short lived smile came across my face and I thought...I can do this! I'm not always told I am good mother, I do 90 percent of the work on my own, I don't have my mom's lap to run to and cry everytime something goes wrong (she lives 8 hours away) I am tired, irritable, irrational, unmanicured, and seriously lacking in patience, but everyday my child learns something new because of me!!

I don't get job reviews that let me know I am doing everything right, or a paycheck to measure my worth, and very few thank you's ever embrace my ears, but my days are filled with hugs, kisses, cuddles, and amazement at this life I've created!! I can TOTALLY do this!! If only I could focus more on that stuff when my hormones take rage on my thoughts!!