Typepad has changed their interface and it's freaking me out.
It's 10:50, and I can't sleep. I could blame the nap I took this afternoon, but I think, mostly, that it's because my brain has been working overtime lately. Gus has been driving me crazy. We've lost our way again.
I look at my son, my beautiful, intelligent, crazy-making boy, and I wonder where he came from. And then I look a little closer and I see myself. We have the same hazel eyes and long, dark eyelashes; we're both selfish and grouchy and incredibly possessive of our space. We both expect to be noticed when we've done something amazing. We both hate to share. We come expecting to be entertained. We think we're the best thing going.
Are all first children this way?
I realized last night that almost everything I say to my child starts with "No," "Not right now," or "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!" This shouldn't be. What am I doing wrong? You'd think because he's five, and can dress himself and get his own drink of water, that maybe the tie is loosening. Maybe it's not so umbilical anymore.
But it is. These days, I no longer wake up in the middle of the night, waiting for the baby who needs breastmilk to wake up too--instead I find myself all wrapped up in his emotions. The truth is, I don't how to help him anymore, not when I can barely temper my own reactions. When Gus gets mad, I get madder. When he's acting out-of-control, my own grasp on sanity quickly loosens. The kid is a tempest; he needs a mother who isn't.
I always say that you get the kids you're supposed to have. Clearly, I have Gus so that I can learn to be a better person. Raising him is going to take all the patience, stamina, love and understanding I can muster--he deserves no less.
The task I have set myself this week is to really focus on attending to my son, noticing the little, wonderful things he does all day long. The things that get swept under the rug first when he's misbehaving. The things I rarely comment on because I'm afraid they won't last.
Cut yourself some slack as part of that list deary! You ARE NOT FAILING at the job! It only feels like that some days. Love you always, Mom
Posted by: Nana | May 23, 2008 at 08:33 AM