Thursday, January 25, 2007
Toddler 1, Mommy Zip
Son is working on systematically destroying me right now. He really is. You look at him and you would think angel. All blonde and blue-eyed. He's being a toddler, and I need to understand that. However, being hormonally challenged right now, it all hurts.
Lately, he does nothing by scream at me. I try to get him dressed in the morning, he screams and cries like I am hurting him. I'm not rough, and I try to take it (within reason) at his pace. I get things thrown at me, clothes dumped on the floor. I know that he just wants to keep playing, but I'm desperately trying to get out the door in one piece. If I don't work, we don't have much. That plain and simple.
He alternates between screaming in the car during our 20 minute commute. I've tried giving him toys and books, but they just get chucked to the far reaches of the Je*p, and being 5'2", I can't reach them. So he screams. Refuses to even look at me in the rear view mirror.
We get to daycare. He starts crying, unless otherwise distracted, when I leave. Yep, feel horrible about that. I usually end up fighting tears on my way out, and sometimes I let them just come once I'm in the car. My work parking lot is just across the street, so I can usually pull myself back together before I go inside. I've really been struggling with having to leave him every day, and all of the old worries about leaving a small baby are on my mind too. It sucks to have no option of ever being able to stay home, if even for a little while. I'll never have that option, so I have to pay people to raise my children. Yep, up for the mom of the year award here.
And the kicker, the one that I'm really having a hard time with. When I pick him up at night, exhausted and feeling sick, what do I get? A child who throws a temper tantrum, throws himself to floor, screaming, because he doesn't want to go home with me. All of the other kids at least smile, and most run towards their parents when they come in. Not my kid. Runs away, and when forced to come to me, throws a fit that causes everyone to stop and look at me like I'm some sort of monster. It breaks my heart. On an intellectual level, I know that he is just so into playing that he doesn't want to stop. I know that. But with my reserves running so low lately, it crushes me to have to pick him up, still screaming, back bending to try to get away from me, and then have to try to put on a coat and get him out to the car. What am I going to do when he's too big to carry and I'm too big to be able to carry him? What then? The funny thing is, none of the other kids around him can understand what he's doing. One little girl that he used to be with in the infant room was so upset that he didn't come to me that she marched over, tried to pick him up, and kept pointing excitedly in my direction. He could have cared less. I did appreciate her efforts though.
If anything, I guess that I'm getting a taste of the teenage years. I was just hoping that I wouldn't have to feel that sense of loss before he was two. Hormones aren't helping either, but they are out of my control, and I'm sick of having to intellectualize everything. Damnit, why can't he just like me?