Parenting Life

In the beginning of my blog, as I was introducing myself, I told all of you that I have a 3 year old son. Well, that may have been a little wrong… let me rephrase so I can fully enlighten everyone to my situation with my Lil Man. I have a 17 year old trapped in the body of a 3 year old! And this seriously independent, strong willed, arrogant little person is the light of my life and my most favorite person, BUT even as I love him unconditionally, he makes me the maddest.

I was a full-time student when I found out I was pregnant. It was the July right before I started the teaching program. Once I started the program in August it would still be two years before I graduated. Surprise! This was not necessarily my plans, but considering my husband already had 3 children from his first marriage I felt that I was pretty close to being ready for the motherly part, and all the other things would just come naturally. I was excited. Well, he was born the following March and I spent the first 8 weeks of his life finishing my first year of the teaching program. My mother drove over to my house every morning to spend the day with him and I went to school. This was no easy task. I chose to breastfeed my baby so my lunch breaks consisted of sitting in the ladies room or in my car and pumping while I tried to eat my lunch. My breast feeding days only lasted until he was three months old and then I gave it up out of exhaustion.

After those first 8 weeks, I turned into a stay-at-home mom. I decided to take the next year off from school so that I could stay at home with him and be the kind of mother that I thought was best. Yes, I was apprehensive about taking the time off. Yes, I had fears that I would never finish, but I was determined to keep my baby in our home for his first year as opposed to sending him to a daycare for that time. My mother had left town to travel with my father and so, I was without the extra help.  At first everything was great.  I stayed busy and productive.  It was tiring, but I managed to stay relatively on top of the household, the new baby, my husband, and his three other children when they were with us.  Somewhere throughout that first year, or maybe it was slowly happening even from the beginning and I just didn't realize it, my son developed a sixth sense.  This sixth sense started coming out about the time he was supposed to be moved into his own bed in the nursery and out of the bassinet in my room.  This sixth sense gave him the ability to interpret when Mommy was finally falling asleep and like clockwork he would wake up.  The only solution to this back and forth game of Mommy putting the baby down to sleep and the minute she falls asleep the baby waking up was for Mommy to put the baby in bed with her and fall asleep that way.  Pause.... I know what you all are thinking... this poor woman has made the ultimate mistake number one and allowed her baby to sleep in bed with her and her husband.  Shame shame shame.  Well, let me explain my side.

I tried like hell for weeks and weeks and weeks to fight him into his own bed, or sneak him to his bed once he was asleep.  My ex husband can completely attest to the madness that was our nightly routine for several months.  And please remember we are talking about a 5-6 month baby right now.  At that age he had somehow mastered how to get his little way and that was to have Mommy or Daddy holding him while he slept.  Let us fast forward two and a half years.  To this day... I go to my son's bed and read him a few books and then have to lay there while he holds my arm so he will fall asleep.  If I refuse and put my foot down I'm in for the most miserable night anyone could ever imagine.  I have tried everything I know, spanking him, ignoring him, trying to reason with him about how this is what big boys do, and nothing has worked.  He ends up screaming and crying to the point of vomiting every single time.  I cannot count on my hands how many nights I have cleaned up puke that is all over him and his bed and his carpet because I've forced him to lay in his bed alone and he cries until making himself sick.  

What worries me more is that something emotionally traumatic is wrong with him.  I can deal with having a spoiled, stubborn child with an incredible will, but I can't live with thinking and feeling like there's something wrong with him or me.  I wish I had some miracle fix and we could all go on happily, but I don't.  And this isn't even all I deal with.  The temper tantrums happen at least once a day because of something.  It's usually because I have to leave him at school in the mornings and go to work.  Literally, his teacher physically holds him so I can walk out the door otherwise he chases after me.  I have been assured numerous times that his crying and screaming stops within a matter of seconds after I am gone and he plays normally with all the other children in his class all day long.  This tells me that the tantrum is solely for me. 

I know for a fact that someone out there in blogging world is sitting in front of their computer right now reading this and they are saying... "Oooh, it's just a phase.  Your son will out grow this extreme possessiveness of you and eventually move on to being a little more content."  I don't believe you!  This is what I was told when he was a year old and refused to stay with anyone but me or my ex husband (and yes that included his grandparents, his aunts and uncles, or really good friends of ours).  At a year old the temper tantrums came out seriously bad when me or my ex husband needed a babysitter.  How crazy is that!  I was also told this when he started school.  That was a year and a half ago.  He has been in the same school around the same people five days a week since then and still screams the same way every morning! 

Hardly anyone has commented on this blog since its creation, so I don't expect a whole lot of feedback now... but just remember this is my Lil Man we're talking about here.  I can rant and rave all day long because he's mine, but when other people do it, it's somehow offensive.  But I do love and accept constructive criticism!  Feel free to post all of that you want.  Thanks!

How do I love you?  Let me count the ways.

I love you on your very best and very worst of days.

I love to see you laughing and dancing in the rain.

And even when you lose your shoes, I love you just the same.

I love to hear you singing.

I love to see you smile.

I love the way you take each day in your own unhurried style.

I'm happy when you're happy.

And I'm sorry when you're sad.

And even though it may not show, I love you when you're bad.

How do I love you?  Well, now, let me see.

I love the way you act so brave when you fall and hurt your knee.

I love to watch you sleeping, tucked away in pleasant dreams.

I love to hear you whisper all your giant plans and schemes.

I love the way you wear your pants with the front part in the back,

And the way you walk around sometimes with your head inside a sack.

I love to see you deep in thought.

I love to watch you play.

And though I'm sure you'll never know, I love you more each day.
How do I love you?  It's impossible to say.

For if I had a million days and time enough for all the praise,

I couldn't tell you all the ways I love you.

~P.K. Hallinan~