The One Where I Feel Like a Really Horrible Person

I am really short with my kids. I yell. A lot. Particularly at Max. The little annoying behaviors just build and build until I blow up. I know it’s not healthy for any of us, but I don’t have any alternative strategies.

Max doesn’t have an Autism diagnosis, nor does he have a diagnosis of ADHD or any other similar type of disorder but he exhibits many of the same behaviors. And to be completely honest, they drive me crazy. I find them to be really annoying.

I know that’s not the politically correct thing to say or the way a parent is supposed to feel about her child. I know it’s not his fault, I really do. The arm flapping and spitting are not terribly difficult to deal with. I can overlook those most times though it breaks my heart to see his younger brother or cousin mimic him…not in a teasing way, just in the “monkey see, monkey do” way that toddlers have.

It’s the lack of a “calm body”. I’ve ready books about active boys and I know hyperactivity is common in young boys. I’m seeking out help from his doctor for behavior modification suggestions. But for now, we can’t get through a book without him elbowing or kicking me in the gut or shin or face. We don’t get through a meal without spilled water or milk. When he eats yogurt, it’s all over his shirt, pants, the table. His body is riddled with bruises because he’s constantly bumping into things. He can’t resist kicking or hitting his brother for no reason or without warning. Though he does have some fine motor skill delays that might be contributing to the eating issues, I really don’t think that’s it. His brain and body just never idle. They never turn off. It’s exhausting and embarrassing and I just don’t want to have to deal with it all the time.

So this is my cry for help. Parent of kids with these kind of behaviors, how to you handle it? How do you accept it? What do you do about it?

Meatloaf

Ian and I are raising Chaz. Not the wedding/funeral crashing/picking up chicks part, but the living with your mom demanding meatloaf part. Only with Max, it’s not meatloaf (or meafloaf as he calls it). Its Milk! Snacks! Bed! Poop! It’s always yelled, usually starts before 6:00 a.m., from the other room and continues until the demanded item has been obtained (or expelled in the case of poop).

For years, pretty much since he could talk, we’ve been modeling the right way to ask for things (May I have some milk please Mommy) or withholding the item until we hear please, but it just hasn’t stuck yet.

I guess it’s time to get the basement ready and perfect my meatloaf recipe. Ma! The meatLOAF!

End of Daylight Savings Means the End of Sleep

We were just getting to the point where we were sleeping in…finally. For the first time in what felt like years we got to sleep until…wait for it…6:30 a.m. It was blissful. I had been dreading it for weeks, keeping the kids awake later and thinking about the cold dark mornings of last year; the mornings that started at 5:00 a.m. And now, they’re back. Sure we can try and stretch until 5:45, but that usually means having to clean up every.single.book. from the bookshelf that ends up on the floor.

Sure, I could use the extra time to do something and at least they are in bed relatively early, but I just can’t be “on” so early when it’s cold and dark. Guess I’ll just have to dream about springing ahead.