I am exhausted, disoriented, and pretty darn emotional. I can cry at the drop of a hat. Just ask me how it's going and I will prove it. Davis is also pretty out of sorts. I am sure he is picking up on my
melancholyness. This morning he wandered into Jack's room and looked around saying, "
Bubba...
bubba...
bubba?" After which, of course, I cried.
I hardly know what to do with him during the day. That seems weird to say, but when I was home with Jack at this age, we read book after book, did repetitive language drills, counting, sorting, etc. Baby Jack sat still, soaking in one quiet activity after another. He went with me to get pedicures, sat quietly through long lunches with friends, and was a deep sleeper at
nap time.
Davis... not so much... on pretty much any of the things I just said. He goes from pulling on the Monster cable, to the remote drawer, to the electrical outlet, to yanking the lever off the recliner, to the drawer under the stove, to tipping the kitchen chairs. And then back.
I feel like I am telling him "NO" all day. I bring out blocks to stack and that turns into, "Don't hit the TV with a block! Davis, no no!" I get out wooden puzzles, "Don't throw puzzles at the dog! We're gentle with Sadie..." I pull out a bucket of toys, "Davis, where are you?" Oh, eating baby wipes, of course.
All of the doors are closed. All the time. The
DVD's are blocked by two wicker blanket hampers. The top two blankets are out of said hampers because he can reach in and remove them now. The remote drawer and oven drawer are now secured. The treadmill is unplugged, plants put away,
dog food up high. We had to do NONE of this the first time around. "Davis, the CD-
RW's do NOT go in the toilet!
JAAaaaaaackkk!!!! How many times have I told you, you HAVE to keep this bathroom door SHUT!!!"
It's entirely too hot to take him too many places in the afternoon, and he's still very much in need of his AM nap so the morning errand-window is short as well. Praise the Lord for the two-naps, because I need at least one a day as well. More often than not, I am tempted to take him to the store just because the carts have harnesses. But, what would I buy and with what money?
I just want to sit here and cry. Oh, and eat. His dimpled smile goes from ear to ear pretty much ALL DAY LONG and it breaks my heart that he's probably wondering why his Mom seems so exasperated with him all of a sudden.
Well, this morning I hit a low point with him. He was trying to tip over the wicker hampers again and I had said "No" and redirected him at least a dozen times. He was whining and throwing himself onto the carpet starting a mini-tantrum. "Davis, Mommy said NO!" He went back to the hamper, lifted the lid, yanked on the linen liner and I finally pulled him away and spanked his hand. Hard. He was crying and rolling around.
I went back to the hamper to straighten it back up. I lifted the lid and what did I see? His fresh milk cup had fallen into the hamper. My heart instantly jumped up into my throat and I felt just awful! Poor baby. All teary-eyed I scooped him up, hugged him and rocked him (for two seconds before he wriggled down), apologizing over and over. He, of course, holds no grudges and gives me pat-pats and a big toothy smile, but I still feel horrible. After all, there had been REAL tears in his little eyes and I am sure he did not understand why his Mother was not helping him get to his milk.
So today I prayed that God would renew my spirit, get me through this tough week of transition, and clearly remind me how precious this time alone with Davis really is. I also pray that I will find some new activities (can you say swingset!?), parenting tricks, and training tools to be an effective teacher and loving mother to this unique little rascal.
I guess no matter how many children you have, each one is an entirely unique experience. Just when I thought I had a fully-stocked bag of tricks for raising toddlers, I am realizing I need to start over with an empty bag. Some of my techniques will work for Davis and many will not. That's scary to me, but today I need to embrace it.
I want last week back. I want summer back. I want my mornings back, my routine back, my play group back, and most of all, I want Jack Everett back. I dropped my baby off at school and a different boy came off the bus. He's bigger, he doesn't need me to help him with his backpack, he doesn't feel like sharing about his day, and he certainly doesn't want to "snuggle" his Momma when she needs it most. Oh, and he rolls his eyes.
Tomorrow is Friday and I am ready for this week to end. I am going to dinner with several amazing Moms from our church tonight and I just hope they don't ask me how Kindergarten is going. Chances are it won't come up since most of them home-school (and I am starting to understand why), but I feel like if it does I will start crying right there at
Salsalito's. I have already decided if I start to feel like crying, I will just eat faster.
It's worked for me for thirty years, so why stop now?
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