First of all, let me start off by placing a reminder on here. The only rule I’ve ever had about this blog, is that if you are one of the real life people in my life, you are free to comment on the blog but in person the blog is off limits. The reason for this, is sometimes people feel entitled to try and fix what I talk about on here, when really in general I just needed to talk about it and move on from it. So, since there are some new readers who know me personally I need to make sure you understand this ONE RULE! Please please, unless I engage you about a topic I’ve written please do not try and talk to me about what I write on here when it is clearly something personal. With that said, I’ll finally talk about whats been on my mind lately.
My son and I don’t get along. This has been going on for a while. Since before I had Codi. For some reason Brandon just doesn’t want to get along with me. At night when he is tired he is fine. Then he misses me. But during the day he just doesn’t get along with me. He basically spends the entire day not listening and trying to see how far he can push me. I’ll tell him no and he’ll do it anyway. I’m not mean, I say, “Brandon please don’t do that.” He just does it anyway. So I’ll say, “Brandon, your going to go in time out,” and he will shout at me Shhh or Be Quiet, or NO or you tine out. It’s hard because he only does this with me. Then if he continues doing it, I will go toward him to put him in time out and he will just destroy everything in his path. For instance if he is throwing Cheetos or something and I say no, he will keep doing it. Then I move towards him to put him in time out and he will look at me, throw the entire bag of Cheetos and step on them. So he goes in time out. Then he goes nuts. He starts thrashing around, hitting his time out (a pack n play), kicking it, trying to jump out and yelling at me. I’ll tell him to please not yell the baby is sleeping and his response is NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! with caps and exclamation points and in a whole other font really. It’s at that moment where I feel like I’m failing. He doesn’t do this with anyone else. And I know certain people in my life would argue that it is because I’m not parenting him right, I won’t spank him, or I’m to lenient with punishments or I don’t want to put him in the corner because it is against my beliefs to embarrass my child that way. And while it is true I could be more of a hard ass, that just isn’t the kind of parent I want to be. I don’t want my kids to be afraid of me. I don’t want them to ever be afraid to tell me they have done something, or are going to do something, or made a big life decision. I want them to feel like I’m always a safe haven, which I guess is why I’m so passive towards punishments.
I think another big part of the problem is it seems everyone wants to parent my kids different then me. People have it in their head that if they are watching my kids they are in charge of how they are parented. I don’t agree with this. I feel like if I have set rules in place they should be honored everywhere. I think with all the different parenting styles it’s hard for him to know whose rules he should follow.
However aside from the fact that Brandon will listen to everyone around him but me there is another thing weighing on my mind. I kind of feel like he likes my parents more then me right now. He calls their house home, calls me from there to tell me he doesn’t want to come back and has more fun there then he has had with me in a long time. I realize a lot of that is my fault, being on bed rest really set me back, and then the remainder of the pregnancy made it really hard to do fun stuff like ride my bike to the park and play with him. I went to the park a few times but climbing up and down and lifting him and sliding actually took quite a lot out of me. Now I’m trying to heal from the C-section and that is 6 more weeks I’m not really supposed to do much with him. Yesterday he went to see my parents. He said he was going home, meaning he was going to their house. I said no Brandon this is your home and he said NO I go home. I bawled when he left. Then I told my mom I was ready for him to come home and she told me he cried when he put his shoes on so they were going to keep him longer. I bawled more. You can’t imagine how hard it is knowing your son would rather be somewhere other then with you. I love letting him stay the night there because I know he has a lot of fun and they take him to the park and let him run crazy with the dogs and drink all the chocolate milk he wants, but at the same time it is getting harder and harder for me to let him go there, knowing he is going to be disappointed when he has to come home.
The saddest part of all is Brandon never misbehaves with Rob. He just sits there quietly playing and is this amazingly good boy. Then if I so much as walk in the room he goes ape shit. Literally starts jumping, and bouncing and throwing things, and shouting and it is as though I bring out the evil in my child.
It’s like that old song, I know she still loves me but I don’t think she likes me anymore, who sang that? Ginger would know. Anyway, I know my son loves me, because when he is gone from me for a while like when I was in the hospital he asks for mommy, but to be honest I just don’t think he likes me anymore.
If I was Swistle this is one of those posts I would delete after a day because I’m so embarrassed to feel this way or feel like I’m failing at parenting the way I want. I thought about it all and I realized maybe he was just reacting to m the way I react to him. So I tried to stop yelling, and just talk to him in a calming voice, I tried just reasoning with him and making everything I said to him full of love, hoping he would react in the same manner. I never got to see how he reacted because no one else followed suit and everyone else went right on yelling, or time outing, or making threats, or just generally laughing at my way of parenting. This gave him the idea it was still okay to react poorly to me. I think the reason I get the majority of his bad behavior is that grandma & grandpa are to fun to be mean to, and daddy was the one taking care of him while I was on bed rest, and I am the odd man out in his life so I get the shit end of his stick. I feel like bed rest screwed a lot up. Brandon spent every day with my parents at work, so they were the ones parenting him all day. They set his schedule, they set his punishments, they did everything and I sat at home as an afterthought doing nothing. Then at night it was all about Rob. Rob set his schedule, he fed him, got him ready for bed, bathed him, and he was the one who went to him when he cried at night. Again I was the afterthought. Now, at night when Brandon wakes up, he screams for daddy. If I go in he screams harder, gets out of bed and goes running through the house screaming NO I NEED DADDY I NEED DADDY.
All of this is just breaking my heart and now I have a second child and I suddenly realize that at some point I’m not going to be his everything either. I guess I always knew there would come a time when my son wouldn’t like his mom as much anymore, but I was more prepared for that to be around three or four. But not today. I can only hope that he and I can find some balance, some sort of happy medium, some way for us to get along and for him to go back to thinking I hung the moon and listening to me. I remember the good ole days when he only listened to me. Now I’m the only one he won’t listen to.
I just know this needs to be fixed soon before I lose it. Today he was in time out and he was being such a shit, he was hitting and kicking and rocking his pack and play into the couch trying to wake up Codi. Then he reached for a plant and I went over there to tell him no and he grabbed the plant and just ripped. I’m lucky I was close enough because that mess would have sent me into tears. I was so upset I grabbed him by the arms and shouted at him NO. He started crying. Not because I hurt him but because I think I scared him. I put him back, walked away and just sat there crying because I had just frightened my son. The one thing I never wanted to do I did. I know he’s already forgotten about it, but I never will. I just want to go back to the times when I hung his moon! There are still those moments where he hugs me and tells me he’s so happy. Or where he does cry for me, or hug me and not want to leave. But then there are those times like right now, where my son is sitting here crying that he wants grandma, and he wants to go home. My heart is just breaking.
I think this might be a contender for my worlds longest post, but whatever I needed to get it off my chest. I’m so frustrated right now. This was all so much easier to handle before I had baby blues.