Bump in the road
Last night was one of the worst ones we've had. I need to get this out. Honestly, I've thought about little else since last night.
I put Little Man to bed last night. Everything seemed normal. Although, leading up to bed was a bit rough. We had dinner at our local church and there were other kids there that he ran with. He was having a great time but was loud and he was seriously worked up.
I stopped him running one time and he was shaking so hard from all the adrenaline pumping through him. He was angry at me and wouldn't listen but by the time we got home, he was happy. Cuddly and happy.
About an hour after putting him to bed, I felt something hit the wall between our rooms. I went in and he had thrown all his toys around. A couple of them were broken. He had eaten - EATEN - the binding off two books.
As soon as I walked in, he shut down. He knew he had done something wrong. But I couldn't get him to speak or even look me in the face. I tried to talk to him, reason with him. I even yelled (which I regret doing). But nothing...nothing helped.
I took all his toys away. I tried to explain to him why I was doing this. He was gone. And I was heartbroken and confused. I had to leave the room once because I was so angry and I didn't want him to see me angry.
There are some times that I really question whether he really cares for me because I always seem to be the bad guy. He never tells me he loves me (even after I tell him). He tells his Amee and Papa all the time.
And I have to ask if I'm even making a difference. I know he's doing better. I see him actually playing with kids and talking more. And I know I am. I don't know what I was expecting from this, but I feel like I'm failing.
I cried so much last night.
But someone told me a very wise thing today. He is expecting me to lash out at him. To hurt him. And because I haven't, he keeps pushing. This has to soothe me at this time because I was so lost last night.
I love him. He has won me over. I live and breathe for him. And I want the best for him. I just have to hope that I am doing that for him.
I put Little Man to bed last night. Everything seemed normal. Although, leading up to bed was a bit rough. We had dinner at our local church and there were other kids there that he ran with. He was having a great time but was loud and he was seriously worked up.
I stopped him running one time and he was shaking so hard from all the adrenaline pumping through him. He was angry at me and wouldn't listen but by the time we got home, he was happy. Cuddly and happy.
About an hour after putting him to bed, I felt something hit the wall between our rooms. I went in and he had thrown all his toys around. A couple of them were broken. He had eaten - EATEN - the binding off two books.
As soon as I walked in, he shut down. He knew he had done something wrong. But I couldn't get him to speak or even look me in the face. I tried to talk to him, reason with him. I even yelled (which I regret doing). But nothing...nothing helped.
I took all his toys away. I tried to explain to him why I was doing this. He was gone. And I was heartbroken and confused. I had to leave the room once because I was so angry and I didn't want him to see me angry.
There are some times that I really question whether he really cares for me because I always seem to be the bad guy. He never tells me he loves me (even after I tell him). He tells his Amee and Papa all the time.
And I have to ask if I'm even making a difference. I know he's doing better. I see him actually playing with kids and talking more. And I know I am. I don't know what I was expecting from this, but I feel like I'm failing.
I cried so much last night.
But someone told me a very wise thing today. He is expecting me to lash out at him. To hurt him. And because I haven't, he keeps pushing. This has to soothe me at this time because I was so lost last night.
I love him. He has won me over. I live and breathe for him. And I want the best for him. I just have to hope that I am doing that for him.
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