This morning marks one of my – admittedly many – parenting lows.
Catie was dragging her feet about getting ready for daycare, and I was rushing because I was late (as I always am). I was so aggravated with all of her various stalling techniques, and I was just tired and grouchy on top of that.
So, when she said she needed to pee and that I had to come to the bathroom with her, I was irritated. She knows how to do everything by herself, she does not need assistance. And most of the time, she’ll go on her own with no issues. But every now and then, she’ll hem and haw about how she’s scared or that she needs help, and she won’t go until she eventually has an accident. I didn’t have time to wait out her stubborn streak this morning, so I stomped into the bathroom with her.
Relevant side note: my mom got Catie a subscription to Highlights magazine, because she thought Catie would like the puzzles and it would encourage her to learn to read. Catie loves her magazine, but she wants to flip through it while she’s on the potty, “since that’s what Mommy does.” (Don’t judge me. We have a subscription to Entertainment Weekly. Where else would I read it?)
So, after she finished peeing, she was still looking at her magazine, and I was annoyed because I’m all, “Ok, now let’s wipe, flush, wash hands, and get moving!”
But she was still stalling, so in aggravation, I… yanked the magazine out of her hands.
And I, um, didn’t realize how tightly she was holding the magazine…
So, I essentially gave my kid a papercut on her finger.
She started to cry, but then when she was her finger was bleeding, she freaking lost it. She was wailing, huge tears pouring down her face, and screaming, “You cut me, Mommy! Youuuuu cuuuuut meeee!!!!”
Of course, you know this is the exact moment when the phone rings, right? It was someone from our bank, and I have no idea what it was about because I couldn’t hear a thing. The poor person on the other end of the phone just heard my screaming kid and me saying, “Sorry this isn’t a good time, call back in 10 minutes!”
I felt awful. I apologized to Catie about 10,000 times, and gave her a ton of hugs and kisses to make up for it. We rummaged around until I found some Toy Story Band-Aids – and can I say, thank God I bought those, because I’m not sure anything else would’ve calmed her down as quickly. But suddenly having Woody and Jessie on her finger made everything all better.
We set off for daycare (the person from the bank never called back… oh well, they have my cell number if it’s important!), and I told Catie’s daycare teacher what happened and how awful I felt. She’s a mom, so she gets it. Before I left, I saw Catie sitting in the corner of the room with one of her little friends, showing her the Band-Aid on her finger and telling her the story of How Mommy Gave Her A Boo-Boo.
I tell you, some days, this whole parenting gig is really rough.