Confession.

My kid is getting older now. He's nearly 20 months old and he's becoming a person. Like, a real person with likes and dislikes. He throws tantrums. He whines. I don't know what he needs about 75% of the time.

I don't feel like a good mother anymore. For the first year I thought I had it in the bag. I was balancing motherhood, marriage, and having a grown-up LIFE just fine. I have this amazing husband and a partnership that I'm sure other people are jealous of (in my head). I wasn't always "together" - my house is generally messy and there wasn't a lot of home cooking happening, but everyone was clean and slept fairly well. Then suddenly at about 18 months my baby wasn't a baby anymore.

I have to think about parenting now. I have to watch my mouth. I have to think about things like separation anxiety and time-out and all the crap we learn about in ECFE. I'm starting to realize that this kid isn't just going to magically become a well-adjusted cool kid. And frankly, if we're relying on ME to make him that way it will never happen.

We are both so frustrated so much of the time right now. He doesn't know how to tell me what he wants and I have no idea what he's grunting about. There are some words, but they generally fly out the window when the real frustration strikes. I think he's going through a growth spurt right now and he wants to eat CONSTANTLY. He desperately points to his mouth and I bring him Teddy Grahams or a string cheese or Goldfish, or an apple slice and I'm either rewarded with a grin or punished for the wrong choice by a shriek and a few tears.

He hates his bed. First I just thought he hated his crib. Since he was working on escaping from it we turned it into a toddler bed. He still refused to sleep in it. Finally, one desperate night I dragged the mattress off the bed and set up shop on the floor. This seems to have worked, though now it looks like we have a teeny tiny college student living upstairs. I'm willing to let him sleep on a mattress on the floor if it means he won't be sleeping between Android and me. That was the first mistake we ever made - we had a co-sleeper so I could nurse without having to get up. Big stupid mistake. I loved having a sweet little baby next to me in the middle of the night, but that sweet little baby turned into a thrashing, long-legged beast. I want my bed back. I want him to just SLEEP. Like a normal person. And when he gets up he'll maybe make Mommy a pot of coffee.

I try to tell myself that this too, shall pass; unfortunately the Terrible Twos are just around the corner (if this isn't the beginning of them already). I'm beginning to think I bit off more than I can chew with this whole "raising a child" thing.