I’m only now getting to a place where I can talk about our Saturday night. Sure, for the most part the day was really nice – full of roses and monkeybars. But, there were definitely moments of tension all day. Mainly between me and Declan.
See, he and I are a lot alike. So much so, that sometimes we keep pushing and nudging each other to the brink of insanity, and all Bryan can do is watch the two of us like a ping pong game gone mad.
And certainly it’s not all Declan’s fault. Yes, he’s five and exploring his boundaries, but I am 37 and should have more patience. And I am embarrassed to say, when he pushes – too often I take it as a personal attack against ME. That he is doing this to piss ME off. Not that he’s just being five and can’t see beyond the realm of his desires a la moment, that he is literally, actively trying to get me mad so I will let him do what he wants to do.
I am so fucking stupid sometimes.
And there we are Saturday night. I am FED UP with the pushing. And the whining. And the selfishness. And the ignoring.
So, when Declan refused to answer a question at bedtime, I just up and abruptly walked out. In essence telling him, “I QUIT!”
The kid LOST IT.
I haven’t heard wailing of that magnitude since he was a baby and had gas bubbles the size of Texas stuck up his ass.
Then *I* lost it.
I went back in and the two of us degraded to a level I am shamed to even think of, much less type out. I promise there was no hitting because we don’t do that (EVER) – and I really wasn’t even yelling at him (but it was close) – but the tenor of the argument was so beyond RIDICULOUS. “You did this!” “No, I didn’t” “Yes you did!”…
If my husband didn’t have the utmost respect for me, he would have grabbed my arm and told me to stop acting like a two year old and put me in time out.
And I would have totally deserved it.
Finally, I calmed down and Declan and I talked it out. And then Bryan and I talked it out.
And Bryan helped me put it all into perspective.
*I* am the one being self-centered. Declan’s behavior has really very little to do with *me.* He is not out to get *me.* He is out the get what he can for *him.*
Because that’s what little guys do.
And once you realize that, it’s a whole lot easier to smile in the face of the crazed five year old.