I stare out my bedroom window and watch as stacks of huddled up icicles are dripping at a rapid pace, their equisite exsistence oozing away under the warm, bright sun of today.
I wipe my nose for the cajillioneth time and apply pressure to my sinuses to relieve the pain that comes from the ‘let-down’ of a sinus infection. Slug back some water, then some tea.
Please, creator – give me the patience and tools needed to guide my son out of this stage of his agression. Family members have started to comment on it. On his ‘behaviour’.
Over the holidays he pushed his sister down the stairs. There was blood. There was fear. There were consequences. (Of course). It was HARD. My heart shattered. For so many various reasons.
She is fine now, a bump and some bruises.
But what of the future? This kind, sweet boy who just happens to push his sister over nearly every single time he passes by her. Who can’t seem to stop having volatile melt-downs at any given moment.
We go from one exteme to another these days.
Calm, edearing moments of quiet while reading a book, having a snuggle, engaged in a game or activity – to repeatedly having to step-in and physically remove him away from his sister.
I find myself threatening quiet time (and administering) more often than not. I hear my voice raising when I want to remain calm, yet stern.
I am left swimming in a pool of deep love for my BOY. The question also arises in the dark nether regions of my soul. Is he out of control? Is there something larger at play here? Should we seek help? He is far from perfect, but so amazing in nearly every way. He was/is my miracle baby. He deserves the very best of me and the resources that I can provide for him.
Now I could link up to all of the articles I’m scouring over to learn all that I can about disciplining one’s toddler from a more natural approach. Attachment parenting if you will, although I do abhore tying myself to any one branded type of parenting.
We mainly follow our instincts and apply practices that feel right to us, to our children – in this case our son.
I could describe to you how consistent and stern we are when our sweet son suddeny gets agressive with his sister (or anyone else). Half the time he’s not even angry when he does it. Sometimes he smiles.
I could break-down every approach – we’re not just tossing him into his room for a time-out without engaging with him – every tactic we are administering with our hearts and our minds – but right now, I’m just going to spill it. This is not an assesment, this is journaling. Live. Becasue I belive in this sort of community.
Because my head is swimming in a sea of sinus sick and mama torment and self-doubt. You’re just going to have to trust that we’re working the hardest we’ve ever worked to be good parents and guide our son down a good path.
I read that this is normal beahviour for a toddler with a sibling born so close to them in age. It’s a stage of sorts. Young sibling rivalry. Freinds and family say we are doing everything we can, that he’ll learn and grow out of it. That he’s just too sweet and compasisonate not to get it, to not want to get it. Other family members tell us they are worried.
What I do know is that this morning, a mere two hours with my children shook me to my very core. Remnants of a big red ugly stain is splashed across the carpet from where the elderberry cough and cold syrup fell. No amount of scrubbing will get the stain out.) My boy had slapped it out of my hand, after a series of similar such outburts.
Over such simple things as getting dressed. Or brushing his teeth, or being told that no, everything can’t revolve around having one version or another of a screen in front of his face. But I gave in, becasue the clock was ticking and already, we were late.
Bending over causes my brain to implode and sinuses to scream, so perhaps I’ll Bissell it up again some more tomorrow. Becasue tomorrow things will be better, right? Things always get better. Today is just one heck of a bad day.
Now before I leave you thinking I have a monster boy-child, I ask you to remember that this is an outpouring of raw mama emotion, from the darkest part of what’s been consuming me these days.
I coud write about all of the wonderful things my son does, how brilliantly his mind works and how charming, funny and sweet he is. He is most often all of those things, usually mere moments after an outburst.
This post is not about describing all of that beauty, becasue it’s always there, I always feel it. But today, today other feelings are bursting forth and they need to find their place.
Perhaps such support won’t be found here, but I know I musn’t be the only mother to agonize over such things. I would be really grateful for any words of support, advice or encouragement some of you other mamas may have.
I could really use it.
More Babbles From Selena…
- Third time’s a charm? Oh potty-training…we’ll conquer you yet!
- Little Activists
- Plugged In & Powered Up: Toddler Gangnam(ish) Style
Elsewhere on the internets…
Via my humble beginnings, mastering in general mayhem: le petit rêve.