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With a Cuss Word


I had forgotten the beauty and frustration of being a parent to a newborn until recently.

There is a familiar anger that blooms behind my eyes when I worry my wants are getting in the way of my child’s needs. Like wanting my child to stop crying vs their need to have something life sustaining. It sounds silly, but my endeavor to help my child can sometimes come at the expense of the interaction with the child. I’d rather do what I know needs doing to get them fed/clean/asleep even if it means not being the nicest about it. But then I stress and worry that since I’m being too gruff they won’t like me. Caring with a cuss word, I suppose.



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