Things haven’t been easy lately. And this weekend I’m hoping it was the final nail in the coffin and we can lay this tough time to rest.
Colt is now behaving much more like a toddler. His independent spirit is often thwarted by his inability to do something that he wants to, which often leads to minor tantrums. And with minor tantrums also come the major tantrums, that thankfully have only happened at home, and where it’s been diffused with a calm voice. I will not lie, I have busted out and sang lessons from Daniel Tiger. “When you’re so mad that you want to roar, take a deep breath, and count to four.”
The tantrums at least, don’t bother me so much. Mike and I both need work on our stern parent tone/voice. Mainly for those talks about why it’s not smart to reach for the stove knobs. But also for when Colt throws his food on the floor. I’m told he’s one of the best eaters at daycare. I know he can eat well. But it’s been a challenge. And neither Mike or I want to get into the chicken nugget rut.
Colt had gotten better with hitting for a while too. But I’ve gotten some reports about him acting up in class a few times. At least it’s not frequent.
Work had been challenging for me for a while too. And that seemed to ease up. But now Colt has come down with Hand, Foot and Mouth (Coxsackie). That after a week ago taking 4 hours off to find out he didn’t have it, then taking him back at the end of this past Thursday and being told he still didn’t have it, just a fever. To now showing signs of spots.
My mom and I spent the morning cleaning and putting away a bunch of Colt’s toys. Hoping to limit the spread. And if that doesn’t suck enough, the allergies I had all last week, is now kicking my ass. Sore throat, runny nose, and a cough I really didn’t need.
And some where in all of that, I had to get a reminder that there is way worse things in this world. A rapist that only gets a few days sentence in jail. A close dear person called to tell me she has breast cancer. And I had to wait impatiently for an old friend to let the world know on Facebook that he was OK after a mass shooting. Fuck this world.
Some days it breaks my heart thinking about the world he will grow up in. I can only encourage him to be the good I continue to see, even if in fleeting glimpses. I challenge myself to raise him to be a smart, kind, compassionate, generous, loving human being.
For every trying moment with my son. For every moment that I seem to have had enough. Reached my breaking point. I can look in at that sleeping child, or listen to the amazing laughter, or watch has he experiences something for the very first time, and I’m happy to be his mother.