Sunday, June 12, 2011

Why Don't They Tell You These Things?!?

For those of you who didn't know me as a child, a little known fact about me is that I was stubborn (I know a lot of you are laughing...because I don't seem to have grown all that much).

I made up my mind about certain things and that was that. Some people may have even used the word "brat." Now, I am certainly not calling my child a brat; however, I can say with 100% certainty that he is definitely my child. He is strong-willed, stubborn, loud, willful, and any other "polite" word you can come up with for "sometimes I have trouble making it through an entire day."

I know I don't need to say this, because anyone who has kids knows that one second you can go from wanting to cry to wanting to shout to the whole world that your child is the smartest child on the planet, but I want to make sure to say it. I love Connor. Immensely. He is seriously one of the best things that has ever happened to me. And I KNOW with 100% certainty that he is teaching me lessons. Every. Single. Day.

Friday was one of those days that was rough. And I mean rough. Connor is in a "I think everything is funny and I don't have to listen to you phase." If someone has the perfect solution for how to handle this, I am all ears. In my present "can hardly stand, let alone walk or RUN" state, if I need to get something from him or put him in time-out and he is unwilling, it is a battle. I absolutely cannot catch up to him. On Friday when he grabbed the dog's flea medicine and started sucking on it, I tried sooo hard to get to him before he noticed me, but he ran away. And then he thought it was hilarious that I was so animatedly trying to get it from him. I tried everything I could think of, but I absolutely could not catch up to him. It took close to 10 minutes before I could finally waddle run to him. And in the meantime I'm thinking about whether or not I have the poison line on my fridge and whether or not I should just call now. Picture that phone call: "Yes. I am calling because my son has eaten an entire packet of flea medicine....I'm not sure how he's doing. He won't let me get near him...I don't know if his pupils are dilated. I'm about 10 feet away from him and every time I get closer, he runs...Well, I'm very large and have trouble maneuvering over to him...Because I'm pregnant...I need to take him to the hospital? Great. Is there someone who can come and catch him because I can't..."

Now it's humorous. At the time, not so much.

A few minutes later, he walked over and pulled my hair and laughed. When I tried putting him in time-out, he ran again. And again, I tried so hard to calmly get him (but I'm just too darn slow and big and in WAY TOO much pain). It took another 10 minutes to get him.

Now writing this all down with the luxury of having two days to calm down, makes it all seem silly. But I can't tell you what it does to you as a mom (or at least to me) to see my son think it's funny to inflict pain intentionally.

Then, after wrestling him into time-out, he wouldn't stay put. Now, I know how it's supposed to work. I've read the books. I've watched Super Nanny (hehe). I know you are not supposed to stand there and hold him into time-out. But, what is a ridiculously large/can't run pregnant woman supposed to do? So there I stood. Holding him in time-out. At the end, he refused to say sorry and refused to give me a hug. Again, we started the time-out and again he refused. And now he thought it was HILARIOUS. And now, my patience was starting to wear down. So again, we started time-out. This time he squeezed away from me and ran across the house and began laughing, but not before he hit me. So Not Funny. And, before you judge. I get it. He's 2. He doesn't fully understand. He's not trying to intentionally hurt me. But I also feel strongly that if I don't teach him empathy and sympathy, how will he learn?

So, I did what any other sane overly stressed and hormonal pregnant lady mom would do. I put him in his crib in his room, came out to the couch and bawled hysterically. For a while. Then I called Mr. Howard and bawled some more. And then I started hyperventilating, thinking about how we will be welcoming twins into our household in a few weeks and some day...THEY will be two. And some day they will hit me. And scream no. And what if it happens at the same time? And what if Connor is having a meltdown at the same time? And what if they won't go into time-out? How am I going to hold two of them and make sure they BOTH stay? And? And? And?

Why don't they tell you parenting is hard?

**And because I know I have the most amazing friends, I know you are going to read this and ask me if you can help. Because you're amazing! But, really, I'm okay. It honestly had less to do with the fact that I'm pregnant and need help...and more to do with the fact that having a two year old is hard.**

2 comments:

Courtney said... Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

You will manage. You have done great managing under the circumstances so far....and I don't care about the *** *** thing...if he does that to you again, call me when you are done/he is done and I will come cry with you. I could ALWAYS use a good sob, and I would much rather cry over something that has little to do with me and do it more in support of an awesome mama!

And hopefully he someday looks at this in the book when he is older and will come give you a big hearty hug with an "i'm sorry"
It is never too late for that! ;)

Daddy's Dream ~Mommy's Miracle said... Best Blogger Tips[Reply to comment]Best Blogger Templates

Oh boy...just wait! We brought Brock home yesterday, and Cayden is in love with him...but he is also starting to act out... We are going to have our hands full!!!

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