Monday, September 1, 2008

My Own Meltdown

At what age are we socially prohibited from having meltdowns? Seriously, I would love to just throw myself on the floor and loose it over something completely senseless. Apparently, in this house, that works. At least when daddy's home and mommy's lost the will to live...

Today, I had hit that point. We took the boys to the neighbor's to play in a little baby pool. Beaux decides to throw water on everyone and then gets super pissed when the neighbor kid has the nerve to splash him. In order to save some sibilance of face with my neighbor, I order him out of the pool and force him to sit in time out. Sit he did. And scream he most certainly did. I was so mortified. It was awful. He is screaming at the top of his lungs and Steve's laughing and saying, "Is that all you've got? Is that the best you can do?" Okay, I am generally the one to antigonize him during meltdowns, but Steve isn't. Kinda stold my thunder there.

After the third and last meltdown, I took him home. Actually, I insisted that since it was Steve's last day in town, he should be the one to drag him down the hill and across the street. And he did.

By the time I finished making excuses for him to my neighbor and sulked home wishing I had a child that didn't scream in people's faces, I found him playing in the garage like nothing happened. That was the last straw. With all the calmness I could muster, I grunted "get in the house" through clenched teeth. That was all I said. But that was all I had to say. Maybe it was the clinched teeth, maybe it was the knit brow, maybe even the pea soup...either way, he knew what I meant and took it fully in the way it was intended. Before I could make it to the door, he was upstairs clinging to daddy with all his might. He was groveling so bad Steve couldn't figure out what had happened. As guilty as I felt, I just wanted to convey my sense of embarassment to him through a lesson taught by 'one of mommy's talks.' I don't really blame him for hating those. I do kind of ramble about other people's feelings and throw in some 'how would you feel' when needed. But it's not like I torture him with it.

Anyway, daddy swooped in to save the day with a "let's just settle down boys". Surprisingly, this time it worked. So well, in fact that I was in the next room considering what it would take for me to make enough money so he could quit his job and stay home with them!

Some days I just suck at this job. Parenthood is much more of a guilt-trip than I had envisioned...

Maybe I will throw myself in the floor and cry about it.

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