I'm really not enjoying being a mother these days. Pretty awful thing to say isn't it. Made even worse by the fact that I'm trying so hard to get pregnant. Confusing, huh? Yeah, for me too.
I'm struggling, really struggling, right now trying to be a good mother to
The Boy. I never, ever, thought it could be this difficult. Two years ago when we started to think something wasn't quite right, we were frustrated, and scared at what the future would hold. It took us a good year to find TB the right help, and even longer to get some of it actually in place. So now he's had a good year plus of occupational therapy for his sensory issues, attachment therapy for his attachment, and a special instructor to help fill in some of the gaps. We've had over six months with a behavioral specialist and therapeutic support staff (TSS) at school. So why does his behavior seem to be getting worse instead of better. What are we missing?
This morning I went in to get him from his room and he was sitting there tearing up one of his books. It's at least the tenth book he's destroyed in the last two months. We don't even keep books in his room anymore. I'm not sure how this one got in there. Then at breakfast he carried his glass of milk into the living room and deliberately dumped it on the carpet. As I was cleaning it up he grabbed the roll of paper towel and threw it down the basement stairs. When I told him to go get it he brought it back up and unwound it every where. Then he grabbed a fresh apricot from the counter, ate half of it, and smashed the rest with his foot in to the carpet.
After his OT appointment today when I was talking to his therapist he ran down the hall, out the door, through the parking lot and in to the playground. Once there he got in one of the toys where I couldn't get him. At the store later he continually kicked me in stomach while he was sitting in the cart, and grabbed at my shirt refusing to let go. Then he yelled the entire time we were in the grocery store.
At lunch he spit his drink all over, then "swished" his food all over the floor.
He's in bed now for a nap. I have about 90 minutes of peace until it starts all over again.
I try to be as consistent as possible with him. We do time outs, but they only really work at home. Some times we do swats on the tuss, but again, I'm not comfortable doing them in public because of the stories I've heard about how it can be misinterpreted. So in public we take things away, or don't let him have treats (like the cookie at the grocery store). I try not to yell because that makes it worse, guaranteed.
The few times lately where I feel we are doing well together and having a good time, it seems that as soon as I breath a sigh of relief and start to enjoy it, he turns in to a monster.
I realize that TB isn't here to entertain me, and it's not on him to make me happy, but damn it, isn't there supposed to be something enjoyable about parenting?
If I had heard someone talk like this four years ago when we were making the decision to stop fertility treatment and start the process of adoption, I would have been horrified. What a horrible, selfish woman I would have said. She doesn't deserve to have a child. Of course back then I would never have had a child that screamed in the grocery store, or spit out his food at other people, or ran away from me, over and over again (cause you know, my children would be perfect, because I'd be the perfect mother).
I think if anyone who knew me knew I felt like this they would be shocked. I always thought I was meant to be a mother, I hope I wasn't wrong.