Raising a child is hard work. Harder than I ever imagined it to be. I guess, frankly, I was expecting these perfect children to grow into these perfect little beings because of my perfect parenting. This…is not the case.
I have often locked myself in my bedroom away from the screaming and crying. I have often been the one screaming and crying. I feel elated by my children’s abilities one minute and the next sure that I had better save my money because I’ll need to bail one of my sons out of jail in a few years.
I love my children more than my own life; I would do anything for them. I guess that is the point of being a mother. I look for dangers, I worry, I imagine horrible fates that could befall by children and it makes me shutter that I would kill someone to save my child’s life. I would personally harm someone if they hurt my child. Than at the same time, I have moments when I could wring my child’s neck.
When my first was born, I was the perfect parent, I was patient and caring and understanding. I gave him chances and I know that he was bright and would understand things. When the second came, life became a little more trying, I was less patient and my oldest probably took the brunt of this. But I was still a good parent, I read to my boys every night, did things with them all the time.
Now that my third has come along, that perfect parent in me is gone. I don’t know how to recapture her. I’m trying desperately to know the right things to say and how to act but I feel like I’m failing my oldest son.
I dread when he comes home from school and I can’t imagine any parent feeling this way. I just don’t know how to handle him. He has such attitude and he’s only five. His behavior at school and home has only gotten worse over the last eight months at school. He is now banded from having lunch at school because he can’t behave; we’ve taken away the bus because of this. Nothing seems to get through to him, no punishment I can come up with phases him, so I don’t know.. He leaps before he looks every time and I don’t know why. I have to keep reminding myself that he is only five. How do I do it? This really is a rhetorical question.
We’ve changed some of our parenting techniques recently. Trying to compensate for what I feel I have done. I truly believe I have neglected my son for my other sons because my oldest son should know better and understand. But I was wrong. It’s me that needs to change, not him, me! I know that now. I know that in some ways I need to be tougher with him and in others I need to be more patient. I have to listen to him more. I know that it may get worse before it gets better but I need to do this for him and for me.
I don’t really need any pats on the backs or a response for this entry. I just needed to get it off my chest.