Wounded Pride

May 15, 2012 (moved from a previous post)

Today, I had a less-than-stellar mommy-moment—really, it was a meltdown (on my part, not Jonathan’s). 

We were having a rough day from the start because we all have colds.  The only word I can think of to describe how Jonathan was feeling today is “cantankerous.”  He woke up saying, “No!” and cried because I put his breakfast on a plate instead of in a bowl…  Anyway, my part in the whole thing resulted from a pillow on the couch.  After a morning of battles, I lost it when he threw one of the couch pillows on the floor and adamantly refused to pick it up.  He looked at me with a huge grin on his face and declared, “No, Mommy!”  I spanked him and yelled.  He cried.  Benjamin is a sympathy-crier, so he cried because Jonathan was crying.  I felt bad, so I started crying.  Max ran to the door and howled to be let out of the chaos.  Yes, I’m sure the entire neighborhood could hear us.

So, why am I writing about this?  Why do I want people to know this about me?  I don’t.  My pride is very hurt in telling it.  I want people to see me as someone who has it all together, all the time.  But it’s not true.  I have learned in the very short time that I’ve been a parent that “Mothering” is “a sport”—a competition, to be exact.  Everyone always wants their kid to be the best, and we want to be the best at facilitating that for our kid.  So, we tell everyone about our triumphs as a parent.  We brag about all our kid can do.  We talk about all the wonderful things we do with and for our children.  But, not talking about our bad days—especially our own part in our bad days-- makes everyone else feel like they are the only ones who struggle. 

I realized this around the time that Jonathan turned one.  I was concerned about something with him (I don’t even know what now), and I was talking about it to my best friend.  One of the statements she made was, “I’m glad to know that you are unsure of some of these things too.  You always seem like you know so much about babies and kids because you’re an early childhood teacher.  You always have it so together.”  I will say that teaching early elementary school for the last 12 years doesn’t make a lot of things a surprise to me.  But, handling some of those things is a whole other story. 

I remember after Jonathan was first born, laying him screaming in his crib, taking a shower so I couldn’t hear him, and sobbing.  I felt so guilty.  I had an “easy” baby.  He ate well, slept “through the night” (6 hours in a row is not “through the night” to me) by 6 weeks, and rarely cried for no reason.  At the time, I thought I was the only person who had “an easy baby” that would do that.  Now, I know that pretty much everyone does that.  And, pretty much everyone loses it at one time or another (probably multiple times) with their kid.  

 Parenting is tough (it makes you appreciate your own parents a lot more).  It can be discouraging.  It definitely hurts your pride and reveals just what a jerk you can be sometimes.  It’s hard enough without trying to compete with all the other parents out there.  Yes, my kids are great, and I love them to pieces (even when they are difficult sometimes).  But, we do have bad days, and I AM a wreck sometimes.  I just want you to know that so you never look at me and think that I have it “together” and you don’t. 

Sometimes I can't control my children...

Sometimes my house is a (happy) mess!

It's The Little Things

May 9, 2012 (transferred from a previous post)

I took Jonathan to play at the play place in the mall today.  We met a friend and her kids there.  Since we both have infants, we figured it would be good to get our older children out to play and burn off some energy. 

I found myself getting so frustrated with Jonathan at different times of the morning.  It started even before we left the house.  He didn’t want his diaper changed—I had to chase his bare bottom around with a diaper in my hand.  He wouldn’t sit down to put his shoes on to leave the house—I had to chase him around with his shoes and socks in my hand.  He didn’t want to get in his car seat after he climbed into the car—I had to climb through the mini-van to catch him and strap him in his seat. 

Once we got to the mall, he had to hold my hand and walk to the play place because I only brought the single stroller for Ben.  I should have known that getting to the play area would take FOREVER.  As we walked into the mall through JC Penney, he had to stop and talk to every mannequin (which I informed him were not real people), wave at every person, and hold his hand out to make every piece of hanging clothing swing back-and-forth.  When we finally got into the mall-part of the mall, he stopped to look at every window display (“Lady, Mama!” at the Victoria’s Secret window, “Bike!  Kids!” at the GapKids window).  He periodically screeched (“I scream, Mama!”) when we would pass people. 

When we finally reached our destination, he wouldn’t stay in the play place.  I was sitting down to chat with my friend (whose children seemed to be pros at playing here), and Jonathan kept going out to play with the hand-sanitizer machine.  Why couldn’t I just sit and relax?  Why did I have to continue getting up to chase my child around a contained play area?  Why did my child try to climb out OVER THE TOP OF THE FOUR OR FIVE FOOT HIGH RAILINGS of the play area?!  AAHH!!!  I was so frustrated with him. 

As I ushered us back through JC Penney to go home because it was nap time, Jonathan suddenly slowed way down and started tugging on my hand kind-of funny.  I looked down at him to tell him to hurry-up, and he grinned up at me.  “I a pen-gin, Mama!”  He was walking with stiff legs and waddling back-and-forth while still trying to keep up with me and hold my hand.  Sometime in the last week or so, he has started to pretend play.  His silly grin seemed to be saying to me, “I’m growing up, and I’m learning new things all the time, and you’re going to miss it because you’re always in such a hurry and want things to be so perfect.  Let’s have fun and not worry if naps are a little late or if the house isn’t clean or if we eat leftovers for dinner two nights in a row.  Right now, I’m holding your hand.”