Thank you to all the mommmas who commented on my extremely depressing entry of late. Thanks to whomever rounded them all up, too!
It was nice to read all of your thoughts. :) It made me feel less lonely about it.
Of course it helped just to write all of that down...so I've had better moments with Owen since then. I've even started a new mantra:
"I'm bigger than you. I'm a lot older than you. Don't mess with me kid." It's rather empowering when staring down the monster in my toddler. :)
I've also found tremendous joy in exacting my revenge through tickling! If I tickle him until he falls down laughing and snorting!!!! I somehow feel amazingly refreshed and satisfied.
The next time you are feeling fairly full of rage with your toddler...try this tickle revenge. It's sweet justice.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
I would like to see your scrubbing bubbles and Benny HIll and raise you one plastic bag over my son's head.
So that is what those warning are about?!? As Mike keeps saying "we were right there and it was only for a second," YEAH but Oren still managed to take the contents out of a plastic bag and put it over his head. I ran to him and ripped it off his head and out of his hands.... OY!
Oh and just for fun, Oren took his wet hands and tried to pull out a cord from an electrical outlet.
He laughs in my face when I try to teach/set boundaries/repremand him!
Just sharing....
Carly
Oh and just for fun, Oren took his wet hands and tried to pull out a cord from an electrical outlet.
He laughs in my face when I try to teach/set boundaries/repremand him!
Just sharing....
Carly
Monday, January 21, 2008
End of the Happy Phase
For awhile there, I was thinking that I could go ahead and get rid of this blog. I was feeling pretty great about being a mom...about my year-old son...who seemed to be doing well. Our transition to day care went well. A walking and talking Owen was certainly much easier to deal with than the crying infant Owen.
Today marks the exasperation point of what has been building for about 2 months or so. Today, Owen bit the hell out of EJ, a 9 month old who is quite innocent in the adventure..just sitting there, playing with a toy.
Owen grabs EJ faster than lightening, pulls his head to his mouth and chomps down with 7 1/2 of his 11 teeth. He left a fairly ugly and certainly large red mark on EJ..complete with blood bruising..but managed not to break the skin.
I was mortified, embarrassed, sad...just beside myself. It's not the first time he's done it.
This is my son.
This isn't anyone else's son.
Lately, he flings his body all over the place in anger..or defiance...or willfulness. He seems much more like a 2 year old..complete with tempertantrums. When he doesn't like something, he becomes a ragdoll...falls to the floor, or when carrying him it becomes like holding jello...arching his back, shrieking, wailing, and in general a positive joy to be around. But only for me or my husband. I actually enjoy taking him to daycare..I'm free and ....he behaves "fine" for them. I hate that.
And what's been building over the last 2 months is my aggravation and hatred of his acts. I can't seemingly control them, and consequently, I feel out-of-control and resentful. All over again. It likens to my experience with my colicky, whiny, crying baby boy of 6 months ago. Those were the days when I would put the screaming monster in his crib..let him cry for what seemed like hours...and was probably only 45 minutes while I showered and tried to wash motherhood away.
It's back. That feeling of needing to escape this thing..this monster...this crazily independent little boy who exasperates me to no end...and makes me wish I had some other kind of life. Motherless is the appealing version. Free.
I feel badly for all of this. Guilt streaks through me...constantly. I am not the Mom wishing for another baby...ready to try for #2. I am the mom who wonders why I ever wanted kids in the first place...wondering "why me?" far too often. I am the mom who experiences dread when he wakes up from a nap. I am the mom who wonders: "What's wrong with me? Why don't I love this? Why is this so hard for me and easy for others? Why is he like this? What do I do about this now?" Today I win the Mother-of-the-Year award for being alone in this realm...being afraid to verbalize that I'm not feeling very good at being a mom...that maybe I hate it.
Today marks the exasperation point of what has been building for about 2 months or so. Today, Owen bit the hell out of EJ, a 9 month old who is quite innocent in the adventure..just sitting there, playing with a toy.
Owen grabs EJ faster than lightening, pulls his head to his mouth and chomps down with 7 1/2 of his 11 teeth. He left a fairly ugly and certainly large red mark on EJ..complete with blood bruising..but managed not to break the skin.
I was mortified, embarrassed, sad...just beside myself. It's not the first time he's done it.
This is my son.
This isn't anyone else's son.
Lately, he flings his body all over the place in anger..or defiance...or willfulness. He seems much more like a 2 year old..complete with tempertantrums. When he doesn't like something, he becomes a ragdoll...falls to the floor, or when carrying him it becomes like holding jello...arching his back, shrieking, wailing, and in general a positive joy to be around. But only for me or my husband. I actually enjoy taking him to daycare..I'm free and ....he behaves "fine" for them. I hate that.
And what's been building over the last 2 months is my aggravation and hatred of his acts. I can't seemingly control them, and consequently, I feel out-of-control and resentful. All over again. It likens to my experience with my colicky, whiny, crying baby boy of 6 months ago. Those were the days when I would put the screaming monster in his crib..let him cry for what seemed like hours...and was probably only 45 minutes while I showered and tried to wash motherhood away.
It's back. That feeling of needing to escape this thing..this monster...this crazily independent little boy who exasperates me to no end...and makes me wish I had some other kind of life. Motherless is the appealing version. Free.
I feel badly for all of this. Guilt streaks through me...constantly. I am not the Mom wishing for another baby...ready to try for #2. I am the mom who wonders why I ever wanted kids in the first place...wondering "why me?" far too often. I am the mom who experiences dread when he wakes up from a nap. I am the mom who wonders: "What's wrong with me? Why don't I love this? Why is this so hard for me and easy for others? Why is he like this? What do I do about this now?" Today I win the Mother-of-the-Year award for being alone in this realm...being afraid to verbalize that I'm not feeling very good at being a mom...that maybe I hate it.
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