Love her to death....but

I find that I spend a lot more time than I like fussing at N. Sometimes she gives me this look, a look that says to me, "Mom, do you not like me?, and even the possibility of her thinking that makes me heart ache.

I know why it seems like I fuss at her often.

Part of it is because of the age difference between her and G. With G, he is small enough I can just grab him and make him put on his shoes or haul his ass into the car. N is too big for that. There is very little I can forcibly make her do anymore, so I have to ask her, and ask her, and fucking ask her again to get her shoes on and get in the car. I feel like a nag because I am a nag because she is 5 and putzes around like the dickens. I suspect this is just a 5-year-old thing.....the putzing, that is.

Another thing is that if she does something I don't want her doing, G picks up on it in 2 seconds and starts doing it too. It is bad enough having one child do something you don't particularly want him/her doing, but when it becomes a group effort, it can make your head pop off in frustration. But again, she is 5, so she doesn't understand how much G looks up to her and mimics her whether she is doing something great or something problematic.

Finally, and maybe I am simply expecting too much, I fuss at her because I can't help but think that maybe, possibly, she should remember a couple behavior basics at this stage of her life. Like, wash your hands before touching M. I have hand sanitizer next to me at all times. I make everyone use it before they handle him. I have sloughed off at least 13 layers of epidermis in the last month as a result of washing my hands so much. But apparently all of this goes unnoticed by N because she will hack a lung into her hand and then proceed to touch M's face. I hate to fuss at her when she is being sweet and loving on her brother, but the germ transfer just kills me.

She stayed the night last night with my mom and dad and returned home mid-afternoon today. And I hate to say this, but by dinnertime, she was driving me bonkers. Rather than sitting down while I'm microwaving our food, as I ask her to, she hangs around my legs like a cat looking for some tuna. And then after I've read three books to her at bedtime and gotten her settled under the sheets, she decides at that moment that her finger hurts and she needs a bandaid. Mind you, there is no cut, no bleeding. And the bandaids she wants are downstairs. So I make her go get them. And even though I hold my tongue and don't say anything, I suspect she can see the frustration in my eyes.

She doesn't know that the frustration is only partly because of the bandaid. The frustration also stems from my tiredness from nursing all day and waking during the night for more nursing, the fact that G has been sickly all day, which is always stressful for me.

It is for this reason that I am so glad she goes to kindergarten. Because the guilt would suffocate me if I was with her all day, every day. I know my fussing would be even more pronounced than it is now.