Today, the little boss officially turns 2 years and 6 months old.
I thought I should spend some time writing a nice milestone letter.
But the day has turned out to be pretty rough, and I have not taken a single picture and have not had time to think of anything coherent, until now.
Lights out for me at 2200 and after some mindless reading, I'm here writing.
The day started fine.
She woke up close to 7am.
I spent time with her for an hour before she went over to our room to wake her Daddy up.
In fact she'd told me she wanted to give him a hug.. But the hubs came home late last night nursing a blocked nose.
So no hugs this morning since he didn't want her to get a cold from him.
And then the day kinda went downhill from here, just slightly past 8am.
She started trying to poop, her first attempt out of the numerous tries today.
I have lost count.
And then somewhere in the middle of that and me watching tv with the little one, the hubs asked me if I'd forgotten to remove the mosquito patch from Clarissa's singlet yesterday.
Obviously the patch didn't cross my mind at all. I was just so busy getting her to eat, to poop, to shower.
Moreover it was already in the washing machine.
So I said to him, aiyah I forgot. Too busy. Anyway just tear it out later?
He said something like aiyah next time must remember.
I said something along the lines of "next time you remember lor", with no hidden sarcasm.
But I guessed he was offended because the next second, he started kicking Clarissa's chair away angrily.
Anyway I didn't react further.
It was already looking like a long day and I didn't want to pick a fight.
And then the day really got worse.
She had an epic meltdown while trying to / not to poop.
I say epic, because while her 5 attempts yesterday were all teary and stressful, this one was about 10 times worse because she nearly threw up from all the crying.
Her phobia is real. At the onset of her tummy ache, she was telling me she wanted to "wash her bum bum". She hadn't even pooped.
And then in the midst of her struggles she told me she wanted to drink mill and sleep.
It was frustrating that she refused to let anyone help her.
So I could understand my sis and the hubs' frustrations.
I was very frustrated with the situation too, but she already has a phobia. I don't think I should make it worse by forcing it out. So I tried to stay calm about it.
2.5 year olds won't understand tough love, however well meaning it is.
Eventually I merely dug out a little bit of poop and took her to wash up.
She said to me in a very small voice while we were in the bathroom.
"Mummy, I want to drink milk and sleep."
"Oh you don't want to eat lunch? There's swimming later you know?" I asked her.
"I don't want to go swimming," she said to me, her voice soft and shaky.
So I gave her milk after getting her changed, and she fell asleep.
I went back to the kitchen to wash 2 days worth of bottles.
While I was trying to remove the cap from one of the teats, some crazy force came into play and the cap flew over the top of the dryer and landed somewhere behind the washing machine.
The hubs came in to check because I'd gone "Ah!" from the surprise.
So he started moving the dryer off the rack and tried to fish the cap up.
And then he carried the dryer up to place it back onto the washing machine.. and let out a scream.
He'd hurt his back.
At this point I totally regret letting out that scream. I should have let the bottle cap stay hidden at the back of the washing machine. In fact I tried to tell him to ignore it but obviously he'd go all out to retrieve it because the mood in the house wasn't right to start with.
I tried to ask him to put it down and maybe wait for my sis to be back so she can help him move it together, since he kept telling me to step aside, stay away.
So the day went further south.
Long story short, we skipped swimming today.
He cooked porridge for lunch and I had some while the little one sat on my lap. She woke up from her nap but didn't want to eat.
I spent the rest of the day alternating between playing with the little boss and being the poop cheerleader.
Having flu is bad enough and what's more, severe back pain.
I felt bad about the stupid flying cap but also slightly mad at the impulsiveness.
But the day was already bad enough so I let him sleep while I solo-parented the entire afternoon.
I wasn't feeling well and wished I could just crawl into bed, but mothers are not really entitled to MCs.
My only consolation was the little conversation with Clarissa in the bathroom after her n-th failed pooped attempt.
I'd wearily led her to the bathroom to wash up yet again.
"Is Mummy happy?" She asked me warily.
"Hmm Mummy is ok? A little sad that Clarissa cannot poop," I said to her.
"See I squat down!" She squatted down and let me wash her bum.
"Ok that's good. Can you try this next time?" I asked her.
"Is Mummy angry?" She asked me instead.
"No Mummy is not angry," I reassured her.
"Mummy, you make happy face ok?" She said and squeezed her face into a smiley one with four dimples.
So I made a happy face like hers, though definitely not cute, and felt slightly better.
And then there was another poop attempt just before dinner time.
It was a fluke.
I desperately wanted to take a shower while she desperately wanted to cling onto me.
I gave her two options. Sit on the potty and we can play together while she sits (don't need to poop, just sit) or wait for me to finish showering.
She chose the latter.
She was reluctant for me to close the bathroom door but I told her I had to.
She stood outside the door waiting for me.
I stepped into the shower, and tears started flowing.
Maybe it was frustration. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe I was exhausted from feeling frustrated. Maybe not just from today, but the past few weeks.
And then I saw the silhouette of a little girl, now sitting outside the door, still waiting.
I washed up quickly, thankful for the few minutes of alone (but not quite alone) time.
"Mummy, are you done?" The little girl asked, sounding hopeful because there was no more sound of water flowing.
"Yes, almost! I just need to put on some clothes," I replied through the door, trying to sound chirpy.
She ate about half of the porridge the hubs cooked for her, which was good because this was like her first meal for the day.
Read a ton of books to her and sang a ton of songs. She started tickling me and I tickled her back. It was good seeing her laugh like that for the first time today.
And then, her final poop attempt for today.
The best thing that happened today.
She finally pooped for real.
Poor thing, her anus is all red and swollen it's painful to see. 😢
She drank her milk and fell asleep holding my hand.
It's just a bad day, not a bad life.
Tomorrow will be a better day.