Today I found myself thinking about patience after I burned myself taking lunch out of the oven and Wesley chose that exact moment to start crying for me to pick him up. By crying what I really mean is that silent crying/screaming where tears pour down his bright red face and his whole body shakes. I swear I was just holding him a couple of minutes before, but to him me being picked up that second was a matter or utmost importance apparently. Shortly after that I ransacked the medicine cabinet and discovered that dermoplast spray isn’t just for post-giving-birth vaginas, it works great on stupidity burns too.
But back to that whole patience thing; I don t think becoming a mom magically gives you more patience. Instead I’ve begun to realize that my patience is funneled into very specific channels. These days if someone on facebook is complaining about their on and off again boyfriend again, I find myself hiding them from my feed or even unfriending them. Yet if my son bites and bruises my nipples with his new teeth, I have an enormous amount of patience when unlatching him and telling him no. I imagine that there is this imaginary bucket with a patience faucet that slowly drips into it all day long. The faucet drips slowly so there are times when the patience in the bucket runs out and you have to spend it wisely. Well my patience goes almost entirely to my son. On a good day I even have enough patience left for my husband. But there is rarely enough patience left in the bucket for immature nonsense from fellow adults. Which leads into my theory on why it’s so much harder to maintain friendships after becoming a parent. I just don t have the desire to channel any of my precious patience supply towards stroking the ego of other adults. I don’t play games anymore and if someone wants to know what I think about something, I tell them the truth because it s easier than making up a nice white lie. You’d be amazed how many people you alienate once you become honest.
Don’t get me wrong,I do still have friends and the ones I have are great people. Most of them have kids too so they don’t take it personally when I tell them we’re going to stay home because Wesley’s having a rough day with teething instead of coming over for a BBQ or whatever. My best friend and I are still best friends, despite 3,000 miles between us and him not having any children of his own. I’m not sure if my whole patience theory is very flattering, it may sound a bit harsh to some of you. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about other people I meet, it just means that my priorities are where I believe they need to be.
I remember reading an article a while back that talked about how pregnancy brain isn’t exactly what we’ve always thought it was. Pregnant women aren’t just super forgetful and spaced out about everything. Pregnant women are just forgetful about things that aren’t on the top of their priority list because they’re hyper focused on things they need to be focused on. For example; when I was pregnant I could remember who bought every single item we received at our baby shower, I could remember about 1,000 possible birth complications, and I had this sixth sense when driving that kept me from getting in car accidents. However at the dr’s office I was filling out paperwork and I forgot my address. I think the patience part of the brain must work pretty similarly.
In short: I hug my son as he cries after I tell him “no” when he pulls my hair. But I can’t pretend to care about your facebook status complaining about how your coworker looked at you funny.