Written By Sara
Sara is a single mom by choice to an over the top kindergartener, Will. She’s chronicling their ups and downs together and what she’s learning about herself at the same time.Read Her Blog "DIY"
I had so many blog entries planned for today – well for yesterday really – things I’m thankful for, a truly special night that I had last week (which I will indeed blog about later) and then about a beautiful memorial service that I was at yesterday. All of things were meaningful and heartwarming….. but the blogosphere is probably crammed today with thoughts of family and thanksgiving. And I was flooded with some other feelings this weekend. Well, one mainly. And that is that in some ways…I’m a CRAP ASS MOTHER.
Sure my kid is awesome. He’s smart and funny – and since I can only take credit for half his genes…I’ll say this, he’s freaking adorable.
But he’s two. Wait – that doesn’t require a ’but’. Let’s try again. He’s two…(and here is where the ‘but’ is more appropriate)..but his mother forgets that sometimes…many times.
I’m not dealing well with him being two. A couple of instances really drove that point home for me this weekend. And here are my confessions…
Example One – Will was playing with his friend Mitchell. For no reason at all, Will walked over and smacked him. I grabbed him and made him say sorry. Two minutes later, he did it again. So what did the mother of the year do? Took him aside and smacked his hand. Oh riiiight – because THAT makes sense. Get him not to hit by hitting. I’m sure Dr. Spock is lining up somewhere to give me a medal.
Example Two – After an hour out, which included Will biting me and then hitting me and responding to my ‘say you’re sorry’ with a maniacal laugh, I put him into the car. When he requested the Wiggles, I said ‘nope, no music. you weren’t nice to mommy.’ So the yelling began and after ten minutes of deep breaths…I screamed back, ‘be quiet for godsakes just be quiet.’ Well, that just worked wonders. Of course, he stopped yelling, said ‘sorry mommy’ and then a pig flew by the car window holding a naked John Cusack whispering ‘ill meet you at home’. NOT. You get the picture….the screaming escalated and I shook my head at what an IDIOT I was.
Sometimes I feel that I expect to much of Will and that’s why I lose my patience with him so easily. I forget that he’s two and not twelve. I’m so afraid that he’s going to be ‘that kid’ – the one people don’t want around because he’s bratty. The one that people will say ‘the poor kid…it’s not him…it’s his mother.’
But I don’t know what the hell I’m doing 90% of the time.