The Day

Today was one of those days. It was one of those days that causes mothers in American Literature novels to leave their families. And the thing is, the day isn't really going to end anytime soon. It started off so well too. The boss napped for two hours and I was able to clean stuff up and get myself ready. I actually felt like a good mother for a minute. Then, as soon as we got to Paula's the world came crashing down. She pretty much cried from the time we got there to the time we left. Goodbye Good Mom award. The afternoon consisted of projectile vomit, screaming and spit up. The worst of the afternoon was the moment in the grocery store when a woman complimented another girl on how beautiful her baby was and then gave me the "you-really-should-take-your-ugly-crying-baby-out-of-the-store-and-I-feel-sorry-for-you" look. It sucked. I hate babies who cry in stores. And I wished that I could run away. I wished I could be one of those mothers in those books who just leave their families and start a new life. The feeling has yet to completely leave me. I even thought about different places that I could go. Then I felt guilty about having those feelings. But the thing that I felt the worst about is that I would not be sad about leaving; I would only feel really, really guilty. In the end the guilt won, and I cried all the way home.
I tried to tell John this evening what was wrong with me. I tried to tell him that I felt completely alone in this whole being a mom thing, which I know is not true. He helps me out at times. I tried to articulate this as I was walking out the door, but I knew any explanation would not make any sense to anyone-including me. I feel like nothing I feel is valid or makes any sense, and yet, I can't shake the feelings. And sometime I feel like I am making myself feel this way and it would be so easy to just make it go away if I wanted it to. Am I just holding on to this for some sick reason? Why would I do that?
And as I write this, John snores on the couch without a care in the world, knowing that he is going to get a good night's sleep. God, I can't help but hate him so much. I can't pinpoint exactly why I hate him, but I think it has something to do with the fact that his life is essentially the same and my life...sucks. He gets to go back to his former self for most of the day while my former self is on death row with the cruelest warden. That makes me sad. Just sad.