5. Toddlerdom - Pt. 1
Pt. 1 - “It Has Begun”
“Oh fuck off everybody,” I drone to no one. The shower curtain is stuck as I try to drape it across the tub from my seated position. I’m (weirdly) cursing the metal hook that flung onto the floor as I sit in the bathtub rising with water. I am completely depleted and mindlessly babbling expletives at curtains. I thought mom-ing wouldn’t be as hard as it was cracked up to be. I had an “easy” baby and for 16 months have purported that building a business has definitely been harder than having a child. That may have been true for the first year and four months. But last week, I had nothing left. I even abandoned my need-to-be-right argument with my husband for a shoulder shrug. I was that empty. After a few snow days indoors with my toddler last week, I felt about as brainless as I did after 80 hour work weeks when I first opened the chocolate cafe.
This is what I might call introversion exhaustion. When after expending all mental and emotional resources, you finally hand the child to the other parent or put them to bed and close the door. Or when you’ve swept the last crumb and it’s the third month of running your dream business-turned-nightmare. There’s an internal switch that just turns off. Like a mental valve you know you’re holding open with all of your strength until you can release and let it slam down. The heavy metal door shuts and WHOOSH. Complete physical fatigue accompanies some sort of severe brain emptiness that prevents even the slightest response to a simple question. You’re staring into space. Thinking feels like gray matter in giant clouds. Survival instincts kick in and drown out any further familial requests like “Do you want pizza”.
Must be alone. Think not.
Lay in bath. Lay in bath. Lay in bath.
Being clung to and whined at for 72 hours straight with no car rides (we were snowed in) or screen time (because we are still holding out) with a toddler is a recipe for said introversion exhaustion. And I only have one child.
Parents, I see you.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m excited about parenthood, because the usual daily joys & satisfactions outweigh in multitudes the rewards of opening a brick and mortar business. (For some reason it is helpful for me to compare and contrast these two “children” of mine). With a business, there’s no adorable life form rewarding you with giggles and pigtails to say thanks for mopping the shop floor at midnight. It just doesn’t compare to the way my toddler screams and throws her thanks in fists for wiping her sauce-streaked face.
Friends, if this is the start of toddlerdom, this ride is gonna be WILD.
Many of you have gone before me, and can confirm this is indeed fact.
Let this be your gentle reminder, parents, introverted or not, to make yourself a bath.