The Ugly Side to Parenting

Last week, it was like you flipped a little switch and decided the best way to voice your frustrations was through temper tantrums and they have escalated since. Last night you ran through the aisles of Target screaming. Tonight, you were in such a state of hysteria that you actually exhausted yourself in your timeout corner and fell asleep. I took you upstairs, tucked you in, said our prayers and you fell asleep. No bath, no diaper change (you had one an hour before) and no music.

Tonight, my son challenged me to a battle of wills, and I decided for the both of us, and for future benefit, that I was going to win.

It all started when you wanted to go out in the garage to be with your dad. You see, your dad is your bestie, and quite frankly, I am a distant second. A very distant second. So you went out and were playing, and somehow your dad thought it was a good idea that you push your stroller around in the garage. Good thinking at the time, as it was going to keep you busy. But when you push things, you go hard and fast and when you couldn't do that, you immediately got frustrated.

Combine that with the fact that your bedtime was in 45 minutes and the outcome was one of the biggest tantrums I have ever seen.

Most opp laces tell you to ignore tantrums. But our babysitter, who I very much respect, said there's another way to nip it in the bud even faster. What?! Sign me up!

Its called telling your kid to man up and quit being a baby. Week, in over nice, mommy lingo.

So after ignoring him for about 5 minutes, I proceeded to grab him by him arms, look him in the face and say "I know you're frustrated, but the way to behave. Let's go sit in timeout until you can calm down."

That is where the battle of wills ensued. We sat on the bottom platform of our staircase and he writhed and screamed and hicupped and got snot all over the carpet.

And I won. After almost 20 agonizing minutes of saying to him that I knew he was frustrated but this was no way to behave while rubbing his back (in between grabbing him as he made a beeline for the stairs) he calmed down. And promptly fell asleep.

So I took him upstairs, hauling this 30 pound ball of anger in my arms and put him in his crib. I rubbed his head, tucked him in, did our nightly ritual and left.

And then I cried.

This is exhausting. Its hard, it makes me feel like a terrible parent. But its what's best for our family. Yes, my life is all about what James needs. But not what he wants. And he needs to understand that to be frustrated is OK. But to be out of control is not.

So I guess this is the ugly side of parenting. But I will take it, because at the end of this ugliness, there is still my sweet, sweet baby boy.