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The Second-Guessing Game

Do you ever get days where you question every decision that you make as a parent? What am I thinking? Of course you do! Some days, I feel as though I am a mommy who has it all together. Other days, not so much. Today was a not-so-much day. Why? Well, a certain three-year-old in my house has been a little testy lately. Gray hair #5678. Whoever termed the “terrible-twos” didn’t know Nicholas at age “terrifying-three”. Now, I get that this is a stage. He’s trying to assert his independence, test his free-will (of which he has yet to realize he has none), try his limits…all that jazz. I’m just hoping that this stage runs its course before we hit the “fearsome-fours”.

Today, everything was a battle. The time-out corner got a good workout, as did Nicholas’ voice box. Geez, the kid has some serious lung power. We had our up-moments, especially with the fun we had planting tomato seeds (more on that later), but each no from me was met with some serious opposition from Nicholas. Put on your shoes = meltdown. Finish your milk = meltdown. Don’t push your brother off the couch (seriously??!) = meltdown. Meltdown, meltdown, meltdown. By the time Pierre was driving home from work, I was at the point of wanting to avoid meltdowns at all cost. Wouldn’t it just be easier to just say yes? Maybe in the short-term.

DSC02408

Me? Give Mommy gray hairs? Never!

Finally, by dinnertime my nerves were frayed, and Nicholas was exhausted, but still had one more temper tantrum left in him. When I asked him to finish his stew before taking another piece of bread (I know, I’m mean), he melted into, what can only be described, as the tantrum-to-end-all-tantrums. Honestly, I’d had enough. I picked Nicholas up from the table, and carted him up the stairs on my hip while he shattered by eardrum. Amid screams of “I’m still hungry. I’m still hungry”, I changed my howler monkey into his pajamas, sat him on the potty, brushed his teeth (a moment of silence with the toothbrush in his mouth), and tucked him into bed. Nicholas bawled the entire time.

And then began the second-guessing game. Nicholas was asleep within, I kid you not, five minutes of being put in bed. An hour and a half later, I am still questioning my parenting move. Will Nicholas be recounting this evening to his therapist 20 years from now? I don’t know. What I do know if that when my parents used to say that saying no hurt them more than it hurt me, they were right. And I get it now.

xo Naomi

Comments

  1. KC @ genxfinance.comMarch 8, 2013 at 2:32 AM

    We extend our limits as much as we can. Stretch it as far as it can go. Yeah, saying no is difficult, especially to our children. But sometimes, we got to say it.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. NaomiMarch 12, 2013 at 2:36 PM

      I hear you! Sometimes saying yes seems like the easier road, but probably not the best one. Thanks for the comment!

      Delete

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