Drained

You know how just know how a day's going to go by the way your kids wake up in the morning?  If you're a parent, or take care of children, you totally know what I'm talking about.  Today, within 5 minutes of waking B up, I knew I was in for a day like no other.

Sometimes I hate being right.

Everything was done with whining, complaining, yelling, pestering, unnecessary touching, etc.  You name it, he did it this morning.  I told him I hoped he had a better day at school because it would be unfortunate if waking up on the wrong side of the bed carried over to his school day.

Apparently, he thought it would be a good idea.  He was wrong.

When the boys got home from school, B came into my bathroom, where I was putting my hair up (and taking it down; I was indecisive) and told me he had a bad day.  I asked what happened, and he said he had gotten in trouble for dancing in class.  (You can laugh.  I'm sure it was quite the show...)  I reminded him that this rule hasn't changed since Kindergarten, nor will it change in any other grade.  We don't dance in class.  It's disruptive and rude to his classmates who are trying to learn.  Apparently, he thought this rule expired on the last day of Kindergarten.

I asked for his folder so I could see a full explanation of what happened, and he handed me someone else's folder.  When I asked why he had someone else's folder, the kid yelled at me.  When I turned around to tell him "No!  We do not yell at our parents when we're in trouble." the kid took a swing at me.  I sent him to his room, and he slammed the door.  (This is when the fun begins.)  I followed him, and explained that he was going to get three swats for yelling, swinging, and slamming because all of those were disrespectful and that was not acceptable. 

Afterwards, he started crying about how he couldn't move, and his butt hurt...and then he told me he'd fallen on his bottom in P.E. and landed in that exact spot.  Then came the dramatic hopping/limping, and I told him to build a bridge and get over it.  It's my catchphrase.  I haven't used it in a while. I told him he would be grounded from video games today, and he started crying.  Again.  Loudly.

Then, as I told N to get his gear bag so we could go to the park to play baseball, B started crying even louder.  I asked what his deal was, and he just fell apart.  Apparently, two of the older boys at his afterschool program started telling my little 7 year-old that he was gay.  B has a really bad habit of getting in people's personal space, and he's a huggy kid, which drives everyone nuts, but two older boys (and maybe more, but that's all I got out of him) started telling him he was gay.  I was furious...and B was begging not to go to the afterschool program anymore.  I called to speak to the director, and he was so apologetic.  He said one of the boys (the same one who yanked N's cross necklace and broke the chain) had been in trouble constantly, and that was the last straw.  He said he was glad B didn't know what "gay" meant, and I said, "Oh, no.  See...he does, because these older boys took the time to EXPLAIN what the term meant.  To my 7 year-old.  You need to fix this."

What does B's dad say about all this?  "He needs to get a thicker skin."  No, I disagree.  He needs to not deal with bullies who are this hurtful and cruel at the age of 7.  It's not okay, no matter how you look at it.  It's just not.  Then, his dad and I agreed that B should stay with me for one more night because of an issue at his dad's house, and I was the lucky one who got to tell (the already unglued) B that he was staying with me.

Did you hear him crying wherever you might live?  I'm not surprised.

He just cried and cried and cried, causing me to check to see if he was running a fever.  As we walked over to the car at the playground, this exchange occurred:
Me: I'm really sorry B.  I know you miss your dad, and he misses you, so if it works out, maybe we can let you stay a couple of extra days next week, okay?
B: I hate going back and forth, Mom.  I hate it.
Me: I know you do, and I'm sorry.  I wish I could make it better for you, but I really can't.
B: Yes you can.
Me: How?
B: Why can't you let me have a stepdad?  I want a stepdad.
Me: I know you do, buddy, but that's just not something I can give you right now.
B: I want to be at your house more, Mom...but I want a dad over here.
Me: And you think having a dad over here would make things better?
B: Yes, mommy.  I want a dad at both of my houses.  I need a dad.

And my heart broke into a million tiny pieces...because it seems like such a simple request to a kid, and it's not even remotely simple.  And I have to say, that whole conversation made me feel about 3 inches tall. 

I do my best to be both mom and dad over here.  I know I can't fill both roles, but I do what I can, and hope it's enough.  I'm far from perfect, and I'm not the best parent.  I never claim to be.  I make a ton of mistakes, and so many of them are absorbed by my children.  I get mad.  I yell.  I go way overboard on things that are seemingly inconsequential.  I flip out.  Regularly.  I'm stressed all the time.  It would be so great to have someone to help share the day to day hardships of parenting with.

But to find someone to fill that role solely for those reasons would be doing it for the wrong reasons.  I don't need to find a man to take over for me, and I don't want to.  I'm a control freak.  I admit it freely, and I'm not necessarily proud of it, but I own it...and I try to change it.

It's hard, and I don't do a good job of changing it.  But I admit it.  And I try to start each day as if the previous day hadn't occurred.  It's hard to start each day with a clean slate, and as parents, it's our job to remember what happened before to prevent it from happening again.

This is usually when smoke starts pouring out of my ears, and I want nothing more than to curl up in the fetal position and pretend everything's perfect.  But I can't because it's not.  Life is far from perfect, and I appreciate the flaws so much more when I can find the time to take a step back and look at them.

Today, I was given that opportunity by my 7 year-old who is too young to realize that things aren't that simple.  Sometimes, I'm right there with him, and I wish they were, but the things that are the most trying are the things that are the most valuable.  You learn from them, and the fact that you worked so hard to achieve them, makes them that much more precious.

It was one of those days where I was so glad to take a timeout for a few hours to hang out with some kids that are much less complicated.  I love my boys to the ends of the earth, but there's something about taking care of kids that aren't yours who will do what you ask with a giggle or a pouty face, and that's the extent of their resistance.  It was a much needed break, but what was even more welcomed was having my mom at home when I got done.  I walked in the door, into her arms, and just let go with a flood of tears I'd (apparently) been saving up for a long time.  It takes a lot to break me.  A lot.  It didn't take much in the past, but I've worked really hard to get to where I am.  And tonight?  Well, I just came unglued a little myself.  Just like I told my mom...I love my boys, but I'm really over doing this all by myself.  It's not what I signed up for, and I do what I do with minimal complaints, being the bad guy, the disciplinarian, the enforcer...I do it all, and I take the hurtful words and behavior as best I can.

Having the kids is the easy part.  Raising them to be good little men?  That's the challenge...one I feel like I'm failing at constantly.  I know I'm not, and I know I'm ridiculously hard on myself, but that's what it feels like today.

Hell, it's what it feels like most days.  There are way more days where I feel like I'm sinking more than I'm swimming, and I know I'm not the only one who feels that way.

But I am one of the few who's not afraid to admit it, and that's a step in the right direction.

Aubs