And what I have trouble explaining is, the problem is: well then what am I supposed to do?
Sometimes I feel guilty for not entertaining BG more, for not providing more meaningful educational experiences, for not encouraging her sensory and motor development (say what?), for letting her veg out in front of the TV. Sometimes I see things that other people are doing and I wonder if I am doing her a disservice, wonder if somehow I am letting her down.
But mostly? I'm bored.
I'm understimulated. I'm frustrated. I'm disappointed. Two years in, and I still sometimes feel like I was sold a false promise of what being a mom was supposed to be.
Sometimes we play. Sometimes we have lovely tea parties. We do puzzles and I grit my teeth while she dumps the puzzle out after being 70% done. (Why does this drive me crazy? I have no idea.) Once in a while I let her finger paint, and then 5 minutes later I spend 20 minutes cleaning up.
Sometimes I do housework (shocker) and she follows me around making herself perfectly happy sitting on the sheet I'm trying to fold or pulling out all my Tupperware and stacking it. And I'm okay with that.
But there's still something missing. It's like, when I went to the English major table in college and asked them what I could do with an English major and they said "Whatever you want!" and I said "But what does that have to do with English? I want to be an English major because I like books, not so that I can go to business school."
I became a SAHM because I wanted to be a mom. And it doesn't seem like there's nearly as much momming to be done as I thought there would be. I mean there're meals and diaper changes, and there are snuggles. And we talk, although she needs to work a little more on filling up her end of the conversation.
But it's all so tedious. I feel like most of it is about just being a warm body. And a lot of times I feel like that must mean I'm missing something, like there's part of my job description that people just forgot to tell me about and I haven't been doing it. And some days (mostly the days when the sads start to overcome me) I wonder if she wouldn't be better off with someone else, someone who knows what to do with a toddler.
Except I don't think there really is anything in particular to do with a toddler.
And even though most days I don't want to be anywhere in the world except with her, I can't shake this feeling that it just isn't enough.
