Have you ever gone to great lengths to make you child happy? I’m talking about ridiculous, crazy lengths to give them what they so adorably ask for. Or maybe sometimes, not so adorably ask for, but so you don’t have to hear the whining or crying or screaming. I’m sure you have. I have. We are moms. It’s what we do.
My son is most definitely spoiled. It’s not his fault. He is our only one, will always be our only one, and the first grandchild on both sides. When I say spoiled, I mean he has a great wardrobe and lots of toys. My first Moncler came at age 32. His…age two. He’s not in charge. Mommy and Daddy are. He sleeps in his own bed. We don’t give in to tantrums. The bath happens whether he wants it to or not. If he doesn’t like what’s for dinner, too bad.
The toy of the moment for him is anything he can push or pull on wheels. He is obsessed with his suitcase. He wheels it around the family room and plays airplane. He grocery shops at home with his shopping cart. He mows the imaginary grass inside our house with his green turtle lawnmower. Plastic golf clubs in their carry bag aren’t for playing golf. They are for wheeling back and forth in the kitchen. You can often see him walking around the house, suitcase in one hand, lawnmower in other. If it has wheels, he loves it. He wants it. He needs to push or pull it.
I think I had a nervous breakdown yesterday. Some of you will think I’m a baby. That this just comes with the territory of being a parent. But I’m not like you. I’m me. I love my son, but sometimes I don’t want to be a mom. Like this is not what I signed up for. That’s my truth. This is my struggle.
Let me explain. My son is clearly getting ready to give up his afternoon nap. I’m so not on board with this. I am not ready. I look forward to those two – three hours in the afternoon. I need them. When I don’t have them, I’m bitchy. Ask my husband, he will happily tell you! Lately, my son has been napping every few days. Of course the days he naps are the days our nanny comes. Little fucker! But we do quiet time. He has to stay in his room whether he sleeps or not. If he doesn’t fall asleep, he usually hangs in his bed and looks at books. Sometimes, he gets out of bed and destroys his room. These are the afternoons I dread. Yesterday was one of those afternoons.
When I go to his room to get him after his not so quiet time, he is naked from the waist down. No pants, no pull-up. I know this going in because I could see on the monitor. What I did not see on the monitor is what he informs me of the minute I open his door. “Mommy, I poopied on the floor!” “I poopied right there. And there and there. And I peed right there.” Holy shit! No pun intended. My toddler took his pants and diaper off and shat and peed on the rug. As I enter, he is trying to pick up the poop with wipes to throw it away. Exactly what we do if our dog poops in the house. How adorable. He is at least trying to clean up. Should I be proud of his cleaning skills? He is hysterical laughing. I am trying to breathe…trying to remain composed.