A Full and Broken Heart

I don't know why I do this to myself.  I know I should listen to my head instead of to my heart.  At least in this circumstance.  But I can't help it.  What is wrong with me?  Maybe I'm just hormonal.  Maybe I'm just crazy.  Maybe I'm both.  But, let me tell you...being a working full-time mother just plain stinks.  I always knew it would.  But in different ways.  And I guess I never fully fathomed what the consequences of working full-time would be.  During the work days I miss my Brody like crazy.  There's truly not 10 minutes that go by that I don't think of him.  Plus there are pictures of him up in every line-of-sight in my cubicle, including my screen saver.  And, there's nothing quite like my drive home from work.  My every thought is of Brody.  I count down the minutes...seconds, and curse all the traffic in my path, and practically run red lights, until I can get out of my car and walk up to Pam's door to see that sweet sweet face.  Here's the part of the story that turns my heart-full-of-love, to a broken heart-full-of-love.

...Brody doesn't smile when he sees me...

Almost every single day I walk up to Pam's house, push the doorbell in anticipation.  Just itching to see those big brown eyes, that snotty nose, his drooly shirt, those chubby legs, and those pinchable cheeks.  To then ultimately feeling crushed.  Defeated.  Sad.  Embarrassed.  Lonely.  Hurt.

It's been going on for a few weeks now.  And at first, I silently took the beating, but quickly told myself not to let it get me down.  And by the time I would leave her house...Brody's carrier in the crook of my arm...I was fine.  But each day it got a little worse.  Each day after walking in and smiling at him and saying HELLO MY SWEET BOY, and scooping him into my arms, expecting to see even a glimpse of a smile...I got nothing.  Maybe some of you might read this and say, what's the big deal?  But my Brody is a smile-er.  He has a permagrin on his face.  And he'll smile at anyone and everyone.  Heck he even smiles at the ceiling fan!  So, in those first few days, I would tell myself it was nothing. That there was just too much going on to distract him.  I would make up excuses to make myself feel better.  But then it would happen.  You could probably almost hear this mother's heart come splashing to the ground....

He'd smile at Pam instead.

And at her sons...Michael, Kyle, Karter.
Her husband, Scott.
The other little kids in the entryway.
The other mom's picking up their children.

Everyone.

Everyone, but me.

So, this is me.  Me feeling sorry for me.  Because my son doesn't smile at me when I pick him up from daycare.  Pathetic, I know.  Especially since in my head I know it doesn't mean anything.  But my mushy, overly emotional, too sensitive heart convinces me that it is me.  That maybe Brody doesn't love me.  Or maybe he doesn't really know how much I love him.  Maybe I don't show it enough.  Maybe I'm too smothering.  Maybe he doesn't like me.  Maybe he's disappointed to see me.  Maybe he doesn't want to go home.  Maybe I'm not doing a good job at being his mother.  Maybe I should have tried harder to continue breast-feeding.  Maybe he is tired of me.  Maybe...maybe...maybe...  The paranoia doesn't seem to end.

I talked to Jeff about it last night.  And as much as I really thought that conversation was going to be over in 2 seconds...over after he told me I was being a crazy nutball....it wasn't.  He understood how much it hurts me.  And he reminded me of all the things that my own head tells me every day.  That Brody DOES love me.  And as soon as we get home he smiles and smiles and smiles at me all night long.  And there's just a lot going on at Pam's house when we pick him up.  He even put it in perspective and said..."Imagine you were hanging out with your mom, and Rachel and Mary (and Randi, and Krista, and Kim, and Katie, and all my other girlies), and I came to the door and picked you up and told you it was time to leave.  You probably wouldn't be too happy to see me either.  And it's not that you don't love me, or don't like me, or don't want to go be with me.  It's just a matter of saying goodbye, getting home, and then being fine".  He's so sweet.  He is so supportive.  I'm so glad I have him in my life.

So...as much as it kills me a little inside each time this happens...I'm going to try not to let it bother me so much.  No more tears on the drive home.  No more feeling disappointed.  No more feeling like a failure as a mother. Because I know...

I know that I am a good mom.

And I'm doing the very best that I can.

And Brody loves me.

Jeff loves me.

I am blessed with so much.

And I know that just because I don't always get a smile right away...
I know that there will be plenty waiting for me when we get home.