I never thought that a three year old could break my heart. I have always known that eventually my kids would say they hate me or call me mean. Knowing that those things are completely normal and that every kid on the planet says something like that at some point, I expect that it'll roll right off my shoulders when it does happen. I'm pretty strong and unemotional about things like that; I don't take them personally.
But tonight, my son broke my heart. After spending two nights in a row at his Dad's, which is out of the norm but happened because our schedule is thrown off this week, my son has been asking to go back to his Dad's tonight. He even told me that he'd rather be at daycare than at my house. After a few times hearing it, I couldn't help but start crying right in front of both of my kids. My emotions got the best of me and I couldn't help but take it personally. I know why it hit me so hard and I know why he feels this way and it's the same reason that "This Isn't Fair."
There are three major reasons.
My daughter is still spending every night at home. She doesn't do well with new environments and she hasn't had a chance to get used to MSTBE's house. This means that when my son is at MSTBE's house, he gets undivided attention. When he's home, he has to share attention with a younger child who hasn't mastered speaking yet and thus needs a bit more attention than him.
Also, when he's with his sister at home, he often wrestles with her or knocks her down, which is most definitely a cry for attention. But he's not with his sister when he's at MSTBE's house and therefore he doesn't get disciplined for knocking into her or wrestling with her like he does when he's at home.
And lastly, it's not fair because MSTBE doesn't have the day to day responsibilities of daycare hanging over his head (washing bottles, making bottles, putting together snacks, getting clothes ready, doing extra laundry, etc.). These responsibilities do one of two things: they either take time away from my kids or they take time away from what I call my sanity time. Either way, it's negative.
This hit me so hard because I'm dying for some alone time with my boy. We had 22.5 months of "Just you and me time" before my daughter was born and we've had very little in the last 16 months. Not only am I desperate for some time alone with him, but I feel extremely guilty about the effect that this lack of alone time is having on him.
As I was experiencing all of these emotions right in front of my children, I thought to myself, "I'm an adult. I should be able to handle this in a better way." After all, he is a child and he doesn't really understand what he's saying, the effect that it had on me, or why he's feeling the way that he's feeling. And as I'm typing this, I feel like I'm whining a bit. And I know that this is probably a pretty normal part of the transition into divorce. Right now, this is what's consuming my thoughts. This is what's making me very sad. This is what's making me cry. I might be whining. I know that it will pass.
Going through the roller coaster ride that was my life as I made it to the end of my marriage was by far the most difficult thing I've ever been through. But dealing with the guilt and sadness that I'm feeling because of my inability to have quality alone time with my son is taking a close second.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Thursday, August 14, 2014
August 14, 2014 ~ Life is Too Short
Life is too short. Such a cliche but yup, I said it. I've been presented with mortality more than I'd like in the last year or so. To protect the privacy of those that are most dear to me, I won't go into much detail, but between diagnoses that will shorten the life of two people who are incredibly important to me, severe illness of a family member, and watching my kids grow up all too quickly, I've been thinking quite a bit about how short life is.
Now that I'm old enough to know that I have a lot more to learn about life (and not stuck in the age where I think that I know everything), I want to learn those lessons NOW! I want to be wise enough to know what I should be doing so that I don't look back on life with regrets. Because I know that there's more that I should be doing. And there are plenty of things that I should be doing differently. I know that I should put my phone away and enjoy time with my kids instead of sneaking a game of Candy Crush in while they're watching their favorite show after dinner. I know that I should make more time for family and friends, even if there isn't more time available. I know that I should treat myself better. I'm important, too, after all.
Particularly after learning the life lessons that a divorce has presented me with, I wish that I was wiser. I know that the walls that have built up are a problem but I don't know how to let anyone else in. But I long for a companion. I wish for more laughter in my life. I am more happy than I've been in a long time but I also know that there's so much more that life has to offer me.
And I want so desperately to be a better person. I'm buying seven books about building a better relationship with my kids through understanding them and their brains better. Seven. I know that my control issues are affecting my life and my kids' lives in a negative way so I've made an appointment with a counselor to try to work on them, yet again. Here's another case where good is not good enough for me. I know that I'm a good person and a good mother, but that's not enough. My kids deserve the best. I deserve the best. Maybe that's the issue that I need to get over more than anything - the pursuit of perfection. And maybe that's the moral of this "life is too short" story. When I look back on my life, I know that I'm going to realize that being hard on myself because I wasn't perfect was such a waste of energy. Considering that I'm consciously aware of that, why can't I stop thinking this way?
I don't really know how to end this post. There's no happy ending, just the realization now more than ever that people are so important; judgement is so petty; happiness and laughter are essential; and life is short.
Now that I'm old enough to know that I have a lot more to learn about life (and not stuck in the age where I think that I know everything), I want to learn those lessons NOW! I want to be wise enough to know what I should be doing so that I don't look back on life with regrets. Because I know that there's more that I should be doing. And there are plenty of things that I should be doing differently. I know that I should put my phone away and enjoy time with my kids instead of sneaking a game of Candy Crush in while they're watching their favorite show after dinner. I know that I should make more time for family and friends, even if there isn't more time available. I know that I should treat myself better. I'm important, too, after all.
Particularly after learning the life lessons that a divorce has presented me with, I wish that I was wiser. I know that the walls that have built up are a problem but I don't know how to let anyone else in. But I long for a companion. I wish for more laughter in my life. I am more happy than I've been in a long time but I also know that there's so much more that life has to offer me.
And I want so desperately to be a better person. I'm buying seven books about building a better relationship with my kids through understanding them and their brains better. Seven. I know that my control issues are affecting my life and my kids' lives in a negative way so I've made an appointment with a counselor to try to work on them, yet again. Here's another case where good is not good enough for me. I know that I'm a good person and a good mother, but that's not enough. My kids deserve the best. I deserve the best. Maybe that's the issue that I need to get over more than anything - the pursuit of perfection. And maybe that's the moral of this "life is too short" story. When I look back on my life, I know that I'm going to realize that being hard on myself because I wasn't perfect was such a waste of energy. Considering that I'm consciously aware of that, why can't I stop thinking this way?
I don't really know how to end this post. There's no happy ending, just the realization now more than ever that people are so important; judgement is so petty; happiness and laughter are essential; and life is short.
Monday, August 11, 2014
August 11, 2014 ~ I've Learned a Few Things About My Daughter Lately
In the past few days, I've learned a few things about my daughter, particularly since I've had much more one on one time with her because my son has spent two of the past three nights at his Dad's house. It has been bittersweet. I have enjoyed the time with my daughter oh so much. I have always felt badly that she didn't get even a fraction of the quality time that my son did as a baby almost all the way up to his second birthday. I guess that's a fact of life for all younger siblings. But the bitter part is that I miss my son dearly and don't feel like I ever get quality time with him anymore. The connection that I'm building stronger with my daughter is making me miss the one that I feel used to be stronger with my son.
Here are a few things that I've noticed or learned about my sweet 16 month old baby girl.
-She makes this cute, breathy "K" sound as I tell her that I love her and that it's time to go "nigh nigh" when I'm rocking with her before she goes to sleep. I hadn't had a chance to notice it previously because I'm almost always thinking about what my son is doing and wondering if he will be barging into my daughter's room. (He's usually watching Curious George or playing on his "puter" for a few minutes while I put her to sleep.)
-She really does love to snuggle. Sometimes. She loves it much more than I ever imagined. I used to joke that she never wanted to be touched because, from birth, she would kick me if I tried rocking her to sleep. She was like, "Get your hands off of me and let me fall asleep on my own!" She's still like that most of the time. She has a difficult time falling asleep in my arms unless she's exhausted. I know because I've been trying to rock her to sleep more during the past few days because I love having her sleep in my arms. She usually pushes away a bit still and is much happier being put into her crib to fall asleep. But when the house is quiet and we are winding down after dinner, she wants to be in my lap or laying on me in some way. And now that I think about it, she was always wanting to sit on me or in my lap or she laid her head on my leg when we went to a few concerts in the park this summer. She knows what she wants, when she wants it, and she has probably since conception.
-She loves to laugh. I feel so sad that I don't have more time on a day to day basis to just play and laugh with her. But in the past three days, I've had more time. And her laugh is awesome! She is such a happy kid and it's incredibly easy to make her laugh.
She has been noticing that her brother isn't around as much. Soon enough, she'll be spending these nights at her Dad's house, also, and I won't have this one on one time with her anymore. So I'm going to eat up every moment that I can!
Here are a few things that I've noticed or learned about my sweet 16 month old baby girl.
-She makes this cute, breathy "K" sound as I tell her that I love her and that it's time to go "nigh nigh" when I'm rocking with her before she goes to sleep. I hadn't had a chance to notice it previously because I'm almost always thinking about what my son is doing and wondering if he will be barging into my daughter's room. (He's usually watching Curious George or playing on his "puter" for a few minutes while I put her to sleep.)
-She really does love to snuggle. Sometimes. She loves it much more than I ever imagined. I used to joke that she never wanted to be touched because, from birth, she would kick me if I tried rocking her to sleep. She was like, "Get your hands off of me and let me fall asleep on my own!" She's still like that most of the time. She has a difficult time falling asleep in my arms unless she's exhausted. I know because I've been trying to rock her to sleep more during the past few days because I love having her sleep in my arms. She usually pushes away a bit still and is much happier being put into her crib to fall asleep. But when the house is quiet and we are winding down after dinner, she wants to be in my lap or laying on me in some way. And now that I think about it, she was always wanting to sit on me or in my lap or she laid her head on my leg when we went to a few concerts in the park this summer. She knows what she wants, when she wants it, and she has probably since conception.
-She loves to laugh. I feel so sad that I don't have more time on a day to day basis to just play and laugh with her. But in the past three days, I've had more time. And her laugh is awesome! She is such a happy kid and it's incredibly easy to make her laugh.
She has been noticing that her brother isn't around as much. Soon enough, she'll be spending these nights at her Dad's house, also, and I won't have this one on one time with her anymore. So I'm going to eat up every moment that I can!
Sunday, August 10, 2014
August 10, 2014 ~ This is All Happening Too FAST!!!
I think that this is going to be a stream of consciousness, chaotic post. I'm trying to wrap my head around the way that I'm feeling.
Last night was the first night that my son spent the night under a different roof than me. After three years, two months, and four days of sleeping in the same house as me, the streak has ended. In that three years, two months, and four days, I've missed bedtime a total of three times, one of which was when I was in the hospital after giving birth to my daughter. Actually, I stayed in the hospital the minimum of 24 hours after labor because I wanted to get home to him so badly. I have always taken pride in being there at the beginning and the end of each day of my kids' lives. I had been asking him for several weeks, if not over a month, if he wanted to spend the night at his Dad's house. I won't hesitate to admit that I was relieved every time he answered with a resounding "no." One time, he said that he wanted to but then he woke up the next day and had changed his mind. So when I asked him on Monday, I was a bit surprised when he thought about it and then answered yes excitedly. I was even more surprised when he woke up on Tuesday with the same excitement. At that point, I felt pretty confident that he would, in fact, spend Saturday night (last night) at his Dad's house. I was stressed and anxious all week; I ate horribly the few nights leading up to last night because I am a stress eater. I had honestly just started to think that I had overcome stress eating a few days before all of this. And then the universe showed me that I was wrong.
I was sad and emotional much of the day yesterday. (I also have another family health issue going on and it's been contributing to my emotional state of mind.) I started crying in the car on the way home from a baby birthday party as my one year old daughter slept in the back. But when we got home and she snuggled up to me on the couch for a good long while, I decided that it wasn't so bad. When my son is around, I don't get to snuggle much with my daughter for one reason or another. She clearly missed him at bath time so we called him and, of course, it was comforting to hear his voice and to know that he was having a good time. Every time I went downstairs, I wanted to close the gate at the top of the stairs just in case my son got out of bed, but then I realized that I didn't need to. And the first thing that my daughter did when she got out of bed was walk into his room and look at his bed, confused. It makes me sad to think about that.
Initially when MSTBE and I had discussed allowing the kids to transition to the idea of spending nights in two homes, we said that we would let my son spend one night there for a couple of weeks, and then two nights, and eventually three nights as he was ready for it. It was also going to be a nice transition for me. Well, today when he was laying down for bed he said, "I want to spend the night at Daddy's house now." I suggested that maybe he could spend Wednesday night there instead of waiting all the way until Friday, like we had previously discussed. An hour after falling asleep, he woke up crying and asking to go to his Dad's. When I asked him if he didn't want to spend the night here anymore, he said he wants to do one night here then one night there then one night here and so on. I told him that I would send MSTBE a message and ask if he could spend tomorrow night there.
So this is the beginning of being without my son three nights per week. I need to take a pause to compose myself for a minute.
Yes, I know that this is what's best for him, and if you've read even just a few of my posts, you know that my kids are my world and I put my feelings aside to give them the best in all aspects. But because they are my world, this is hitting me pretty hard.
And yes, I know that this is also good for me because eventually, when my daughter is also spending the night at MSTBE's house, I will be forced to do something more with my life than focus on my kids. I will do things for myself and I will be a better person. I get that. I've thought through that and honestly, realizing that was one of the only things that made me brave enough to get a divorce because I was crippled by the fear of not having my kids around.
But knowing all of the above does not make this adjustment any easier.
Last night was the first night that my son spent the night under a different roof than me. After three years, two months, and four days of sleeping in the same house as me, the streak has ended. In that three years, two months, and four days, I've missed bedtime a total of three times, one of which was when I was in the hospital after giving birth to my daughter. Actually, I stayed in the hospital the minimum of 24 hours after labor because I wanted to get home to him so badly. I have always taken pride in being there at the beginning and the end of each day of my kids' lives. I had been asking him for several weeks, if not over a month, if he wanted to spend the night at his Dad's house. I won't hesitate to admit that I was relieved every time he answered with a resounding "no." One time, he said that he wanted to but then he woke up the next day and had changed his mind. So when I asked him on Monday, I was a bit surprised when he thought about it and then answered yes excitedly. I was even more surprised when he woke up on Tuesday with the same excitement. At that point, I felt pretty confident that he would, in fact, spend Saturday night (last night) at his Dad's house. I was stressed and anxious all week; I ate horribly the few nights leading up to last night because I am a stress eater. I had honestly just started to think that I had overcome stress eating a few days before all of this. And then the universe showed me that I was wrong.
I was sad and emotional much of the day yesterday. (I also have another family health issue going on and it's been contributing to my emotional state of mind.) I started crying in the car on the way home from a baby birthday party as my one year old daughter slept in the back. But when we got home and she snuggled up to me on the couch for a good long while, I decided that it wasn't so bad. When my son is around, I don't get to snuggle much with my daughter for one reason or another. She clearly missed him at bath time so we called him and, of course, it was comforting to hear his voice and to know that he was having a good time. Every time I went downstairs, I wanted to close the gate at the top of the stairs just in case my son got out of bed, but then I realized that I didn't need to. And the first thing that my daughter did when she got out of bed was walk into his room and look at his bed, confused. It makes me sad to think about that.
Initially when MSTBE and I had discussed allowing the kids to transition to the idea of spending nights in two homes, we said that we would let my son spend one night there for a couple of weeks, and then two nights, and eventually three nights as he was ready for it. It was also going to be a nice transition for me. Well, today when he was laying down for bed he said, "I want to spend the night at Daddy's house now." I suggested that maybe he could spend Wednesday night there instead of waiting all the way until Friday, like we had previously discussed. An hour after falling asleep, he woke up crying and asking to go to his Dad's. When I asked him if he didn't want to spend the night here anymore, he said he wants to do one night here then one night there then one night here and so on. I told him that I would send MSTBE a message and ask if he could spend tomorrow night there.
So this is the beginning of being without my son three nights per week. I need to take a pause to compose myself for a minute.
Yes, I know that this is what's best for him, and if you've read even just a few of my posts, you know that my kids are my world and I put my feelings aside to give them the best in all aspects. But because they are my world, this is hitting me pretty hard.
And yes, I know that this is also good for me because eventually, when my daughter is also spending the night at MSTBE's house, I will be forced to do something more with my life than focus on my kids. I will do things for myself and I will be a better person. I get that. I've thought through that and honestly, realizing that was one of the only things that made me brave enough to get a divorce because I was crippled by the fear of not having my kids around.
But knowing all of the above does not make this adjustment any easier.
Thursday, August 7, 2014
August 7, 2014 ~ Coming to Terms
I've been having a difficult time wrapping my head around the idea that my baby boy is going to spend the night more than 20 feet away from me on Saturday. Ok, so he's not my baby anymore. And I knew this day was inevitable. But that doesn't make it any easier.
I have been suggesting to him that he spend the night at his Dad's house for more than a few weeks now. Had I not brought it up, MSTBE wouldn't have made it an issue for quite some time. But I know that it's what's best for my son so I've talked to him about it. I told him what they would do: he would go there for his nap on Saturday like he always does, then he would wake up and they would play, they would have dinner, he would take a bath, and then he would go to bed and wake up to have breakfast with his Dad. He was never interested. One night he said he wanted to but woke up the next day to a different tune. (I do the majority of my talking with him as he's getting ready for bed.)
When I mentioned it to him on Tuesday and told him all of the details again, he said that Daddy doesn't have a bath, only a shower. So I told him that he could take a shower instead of a bath and he got all excited. I continued with the details of the evening and morning and he was gung ho. And he's been gung ho ever since (today is Thursday, for reference).
I'm happy and excited for him. But I'm also sad. I've taken great pride in being the person who puts him to bed every single night. I also love waking up to him in the morning and have done that a vast majority of his life. Like I said in a previous post, it's been me and him for quite some time (or me, him, and his sister for the past year).
But the sadness is not just about seeing him to sleep at night and being the first person that he sees in the morning. This is the first step toward both of my babies being away from me for several nights per week for the rest of their lives. Eventually, they will both be spending three nights per week at MSTBE's house. That is such a huge loss and I can't even describe how it feels.
In addition to that, I think about the lack of a life that I've had for the past three years. My life has been all about my kids all of the time. What am I going to do with myself when my kids are spending three nights away? I don't have a life. I don't have friends who can go out on a Wednesday night. I don't have hobbies that don't involve my kids. I know that all of these things are awful and that I'll be a better person when I do get out for some fun and redevelop some hobbies. But I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm really, really scared. The only thing that I can equate this to is the Mom who freaks out when her kids go off to college. But I'm lucky, I guess, because I'm going to be forced to do these things that are good for me after only three years instead of 18.
A lot of the past few days I have spent feeling incredibly emotional and sad about the time that I won't have with my kids as well as scared about the idea of being alone. I try to remind myself that it will be good for me and, in turn, good for my kids. I will be a happier, more balanced person. But I'm still scared and really sad. I stayed in my marriage far too long because of this fear and it's still hanging over me.
I think it's time to rip the band aid off and deal with it.
I have been suggesting to him that he spend the night at his Dad's house for more than a few weeks now. Had I not brought it up, MSTBE wouldn't have made it an issue for quite some time. But I know that it's what's best for my son so I've talked to him about it. I told him what they would do: he would go there for his nap on Saturday like he always does, then he would wake up and they would play, they would have dinner, he would take a bath, and then he would go to bed and wake up to have breakfast with his Dad. He was never interested. One night he said he wanted to but woke up the next day to a different tune. (I do the majority of my talking with him as he's getting ready for bed.)
When I mentioned it to him on Tuesday and told him all of the details again, he said that Daddy doesn't have a bath, only a shower. So I told him that he could take a shower instead of a bath and he got all excited. I continued with the details of the evening and morning and he was gung ho. And he's been gung ho ever since (today is Thursday, for reference).
I'm happy and excited for him. But I'm also sad. I've taken great pride in being the person who puts him to bed every single night. I also love waking up to him in the morning and have done that a vast majority of his life. Like I said in a previous post, it's been me and him for quite some time (or me, him, and his sister for the past year).
But the sadness is not just about seeing him to sleep at night and being the first person that he sees in the morning. This is the first step toward both of my babies being away from me for several nights per week for the rest of their lives. Eventually, they will both be spending three nights per week at MSTBE's house. That is such a huge loss and I can't even describe how it feels.
In addition to that, I think about the lack of a life that I've had for the past three years. My life has been all about my kids all of the time. What am I going to do with myself when my kids are spending three nights away? I don't have a life. I don't have friends who can go out on a Wednesday night. I don't have hobbies that don't involve my kids. I know that all of these things are awful and that I'll be a better person when I do get out for some fun and redevelop some hobbies. But I'm scared. I'm scared. I'm really, really scared. The only thing that I can equate this to is the Mom who freaks out when her kids go off to college. But I'm lucky, I guess, because I'm going to be forced to do these things that are good for me after only three years instead of 18.
A lot of the past few days I have spent feeling incredibly emotional and sad about the time that I won't have with my kids as well as scared about the idea of being alone. I try to remind myself that it will be good for me and, in turn, good for my kids. I will be a happier, more balanced person. But I'm still scared and really sad. I stayed in my marriage far too long because of this fear and it's still hanging over me.
I think it's time to rip the band aid off and deal with it.
Monday, August 4, 2014
August 4, 2014 ~ I Would Be a Much Better Mom if I Only Had One Kid
Does anyone else feel this way?
First, let me make it clear that I don't regret having two kids. I love my kids more than life itself. I am glad that they have each other and I have always wanted to have two kids.
But seriously, doing this virtually on my own makes me feel like I'm doing a shitty job.
The thing that I've been wrestling with the most in the past couple of days has to do with my son (pun intended - keep reading). He has been far too rough with my daughter from the time that she was born. When she was an immobile baby, he used to poke her eyes. Ever since she's been mobile, he has been knocking her down. That's no big deal and totally normal, I'm sure. But when he knocks her down, lays on her, and smashes her face into the ground. I start to get nervous. When he steps or falls on her arm or leg, I worry that he's going to break something. When he grabs her legs out from under her in the bathtub, I really freak out.
Last night, he pushed her down and had his arm around her torso, holding her down in the tub. Her face wasn't in the water but she was really upset and I completely lost my mind. I grabbed him and said, "Let go of her!!!" in the most primal sounding voice that I've ever heard come out of my mouth (aside from when I was pushing a 9 lb 9 oz baby out of me without any drugs). I ended up scratching his delicate skin with my nail that was just a little bit too long. Then, of course, I felt awful. I felt awful for flipping my lid. I felt awful for yelling. I felt awful for accidentally scratching him and making him cry. But holy cow I was scared for her safety and went straight into Mama Bear protection mode.
I'm certain that it is, in part, a call for attention and a bit of jealousy. Before my daughter was born, it was just my son and I for the most part. He had my undivided attention. And, as far as I can tell, he doesn't exhibit this behavior nearly as much when he's not around me. So it's clearly a cry for attention from me. And this is why I feel like an awful parent and know that I would be so much better if I only had one kid. Being virtually a single parent, I just haven't been able to figure out how to get one on one time with my son.
I think that there's more to it than attention seeking and jealousy though. I can't figure out that extra piece for the life of me. I've read articles and all I get are suggestions that I've already tried. Nothing seems to help. And at barely 3 years old, he's just a little bit too young to be able to understand the emotions that he's having that are causing him to act out in such a way.
I've been beating myself up about the bath incident and just feeling like a crappy parent in general for a few days. This goes back to my post about being too hard on myself. I need to stop. I really need to stop! I am committed to going back to a counselor who I saw many years ago and who was also the second counselor that MSTBE and I saw as a couple just as we were coming to the conclusion that divorce was the answer to our problems. I'm hoping that she will help me get past this longstanding issue that I have. I can't keep living in this self-deprecating way.
First, let me make it clear that I don't regret having two kids. I love my kids more than life itself. I am glad that they have each other and I have always wanted to have two kids.
But seriously, doing this virtually on my own makes me feel like I'm doing a shitty job.
The thing that I've been wrestling with the most in the past couple of days has to do with my son (pun intended - keep reading). He has been far too rough with my daughter from the time that she was born. When she was an immobile baby, he used to poke her eyes. Ever since she's been mobile, he has been knocking her down. That's no big deal and totally normal, I'm sure. But when he knocks her down, lays on her, and smashes her face into the ground. I start to get nervous. When he steps or falls on her arm or leg, I worry that he's going to break something. When he grabs her legs out from under her in the bathtub, I really freak out.
Last night, he pushed her down and had his arm around her torso, holding her down in the tub. Her face wasn't in the water but she was really upset and I completely lost my mind. I grabbed him and said, "Let go of her!!!" in the most primal sounding voice that I've ever heard come out of my mouth (aside from when I was pushing a 9 lb 9 oz baby out of me without any drugs). I ended up scratching his delicate skin with my nail that was just a little bit too long. Then, of course, I felt awful. I felt awful for flipping my lid. I felt awful for yelling. I felt awful for accidentally scratching him and making him cry. But holy cow I was scared for her safety and went straight into Mama Bear protection mode.
I'm certain that it is, in part, a call for attention and a bit of jealousy. Before my daughter was born, it was just my son and I for the most part. He had my undivided attention. And, as far as I can tell, he doesn't exhibit this behavior nearly as much when he's not around me. So it's clearly a cry for attention from me. And this is why I feel like an awful parent and know that I would be so much better if I only had one kid. Being virtually a single parent, I just haven't been able to figure out how to get one on one time with my son.
I think that there's more to it than attention seeking and jealousy though. I can't figure out that extra piece for the life of me. I've read articles and all I get are suggestions that I've already tried. Nothing seems to help. And at barely 3 years old, he's just a little bit too young to be able to understand the emotions that he's having that are causing him to act out in such a way.
I've been beating myself up about the bath incident and just feeling like a crappy parent in general for a few days. This goes back to my post about being too hard on myself. I need to stop. I really need to stop! I am committed to going back to a counselor who I saw many years ago and who was also the second counselor that MSTBE and I saw as a couple just as we were coming to the conclusion that divorce was the answer to our problems. I'm hoping that she will help me get past this longstanding issue that I have. I can't keep living in this self-deprecating way.
Saturday, August 2, 2014
August 2, 2014 ~ Family is What Really Matters
Here's another title that sounds so obvious. But I took my family for granted for a long time. I wanted to do something more fun or hang with new people in my life instead of going to another family function when I was in my twenties. I think that it's pretty normal to have that phase in your twenties when you'd rather do things with "cooler" people but I still wish that I could get some of that time back. I used to think that I was busy but now that I have two kids mostly on my own, I realize that I didn't know the meaning of the word "busy."
Now, particularly after going through a divorce, I see that there's nothing more important than family. The person whom I thought was going to be my forever is no longer around. But my family will always be by my side, that is something that I can count on. I am lucky to have the support system that I have and I don't take it for granted any more.
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