Time After Time

It’s only taken 7 years and three therapists for me to not loose my cool when my kid has a fit. I don’t take it personally.

I take it personally afterwards feeling like somehow my parenting skills – or lack thereof – have inadvertently caused said fit. But he doesn’t have to see the afterwards because he’s usually asleep or changed personalities moods by then.

Tonight it was about:

1- NOT spacing out on the toilet beside the tub of warm bubbly water.

Seriously. Why can’t he just go – clean – be done – get in the tub?! Do other children use toilet time to ponder the meaning of life? I’m beginning to think this is where he stock piles those thousands of questions he asks in a day. He’s 7. How many questions can he possibly be wondering?!

2 – Getting out of the tub and getting the towel.

(bearing in mind his serious sensory issues) I began to question our routine when the OT evaluator asked if he can wash and rinse his own hair. Well .. he still takes baths, and i just have always done it for him. It’s easy. It’s quicker. This led me to believe at this age, he should be responsible for getting out of the tub and grabbing his own towel. I should not feed into the already enormous King Complex by standing there with the towel at the ready to wrap him in when he’s done. (i decided to pull the trigger on putting this into action when he began stalling getting out of the tub while i am standing there like an idiot coaxing him out.
“Hello, self respect? Hi remember me?”

I fear i’ve waited too long because he’s become Mariah Carey with the requirements and the unappreciative expectations. MiMi is NOT liking the adjustment to becoming self-sufficient.

3 – Putting on PJs

After half an hour was wasted cumulatively between 1 & 2, and we still had teeth brushing to deal with, things needed to start moving quicker. However, it seems MiMi was too cold to get into his warm pajamas, and instead sucked up more time sitting on his bedroom floor wrapped in the now wet towel from the bath.

Sometimes i’m in a very dark comedy about motherhood and children and all the wrong things to do and the immature thoughts that a parent can still apparently have.

All i can say for myself is somewhere between feeding into the Diva tantrums my big kid has and the miniscule by comparison tantrums my 3 year old has, i’ve found a bit of perspective. I still, however, feel bad for the neighbors. We are the poster family for needing double-pane windows. But i’m proud to say tonight it was only the many voices and personalities of my kid that were heard, and not any from me… that’ll come later after i find the bottom of my bottle from the inside.

One more week until my jet-lagged overworked and frazzled husband comes home to add to the stress and madness help out with the evening routine.

God help us.

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