Wednesday, November 9, 2011
This kid? He's pretty much the cat's pajamas. I love him so much it borders on creepy, and the pride I feel in watching his everyday twoyearoldness just tickles me.
But, every once in a while, there's some sort of werewolf-esque thing that goes on and I stand there, with outreached arms, asking, "Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot??"
Last night was my first girls' night in Colorado and it was great! Had such a great time, with great mamas. YAY for adults! ;-) But, Jake had a bit of a hard time. First, contrary to what his solid-as-a-rock figure may indicate, he's got a healthy appetite and that's it; he eats fruits and veggies every day, appropriate portions, almost never on the junk food front, and everything is made by moi. But, yesterday? He ate every meal like he's never eaten a day in his life, so maybe growth spurt? But, that's also in conjunction with something new: babies. Our girls' day included smaller babies he's never been around, an infant and a 6 month old.
Aside from hearing them across a restaurant, he's never spent time around a newborn, let alone heard a newborn cry; I think it freaked him out. He'd burst into tears when he heard crying. Or when he dropped his sippy. Or when the stars, and the moon, and planets don't freakin' align.
This is not my child.
OK, at first, I could definitely appreciate that it was all new to him and he was in a situation that was unfamiliar. But, after a while, it felt like he was milking it. So, I had to use my stern mama voice to get him to simmer. It just felt like it kept happening and, in my head, I was like, "Hey. Chilll"
As we sat down to eat, total 180. It's like he finally adapted to the new sights, people much tinier than him, and the new sounds, babies. And, then I felt like a raging asshole.
Ya see, I know kids "act out" , or "different", or whatever adjective applies, for a reason. I know that Jake, & all his tear-bursts, had a reason for being, but it didn't make it any easier to digest. He's been around other kids plenty of times; there's never been an issue. Yesterday, he just seemed super sensitive, or maybe I was just super sensitive to him? I. DON'T. KNOW. Either way, I just couldn't seem to rectify the situation. And, it killed me, both in frustration and disappointment that I couldn't make him kosher.
So, as we got home I walked the tightrope between bursting into tears myself, all the cool kids were doing it..., and squeezing the stuffing clean out of him because I was proud that he did end up adapting to what was around him. I just feel bad when I get frustrated with him because I do know it comes from somewhere so my rationale goes like this:
"He's upset for some reason. There IS a reason"
"Are you not over it yet?"
"I don't know what the reason is, so tell me or learn to love it. Pretty please."
Face bashes wall.
I just feel bad that it gets frustrating sometimes. Is that lamesauce? I feel like it is, but I also feel like mamas out there would get me. Yes? Please say yes.
It's like, I have this pipe-dream that I love him so much so that means I never need to have a frustrated moment. It's just hard when he can't look at me and say, "Well, you wonderful mama of mine, I'm perplexed because I've never been near a crying newborn and haven't the faintest idea what's going on. Please resolve this situation"
In my internal monologues Jake's Doogie Howser. Or Stewie, with that kind of vocabulary at his age.
So, we came home, read a book, put the boy to bed, and reminded him I love him to the moon and back. Got a phone call from the hubster that made it all better, because he assured me it's normal to get frustrated, and it's definitely normal to feel bad about it.
And then, I watched Angry Beavers.
Posted by Sammie at 6:20 AM