Confession Time

I don’t know what it is about getting ready in the morning, but it always stresses me out.  Either O refuses to brush her teeth, so I have to run after her and beg her, I mean BEG her to brush her teeth.  And after she does it for two seconds, she’s like I’m done. No you are not I say.  Brush your teeth, O. NO! She screams at me.  O, brush your teeth (through clenched teeth). I NO WANT TO!  Fine, I walk away from her frustrated. She runs after me crying, Mommy, helper (I think that is a combination of Help her, which I think a lot of people say, go help her, and now she assumes it means to Help me.)  So then I start brushing her teeth through tears.  Or instead of letting me do it, she asks Daddy do it. Daddy helper.  And only Daddy can do it.

But this morning was even worse.  My parents came last night, and this morning they were getting ready to go for the weekend to the cottage.  And my dad announced, Ok, we are going to leave soon.  O was already excited about the puppy running around, and seeing Ghema.  So trying to get her ready is like trying to grab a wet piece of soap off a slippery floor. It was impossible. First, let’s go get changed. I no want to wear that.  After three outfit changes, we settled on a purple shirt, and stripy pants.  Ok, let’s brush our teeth. No, Mommy. I no wanna brush my teeth.  O, you have to do it. I give her the toothbrush and she puts in her mouth and runs away with it. O, STOP RUNNING with the toothbrush in your mouth.  My dad, Ok, so where is her bag. Is it packed. My mom, Did you pack her medicine?  Everyone relax (I say back angrily.) I can only do one thing at a time. O runs back to me, and she’s says, I DID IT, Mommy!  Did you brush your tongue?  She starts doing it, half-assed I might add. O, brush your teeth.  Let me do it.  NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!  Fine. I go to wash her face, she screams. O! Relax!  She starts crying like I just tried to burn her.

I decide that it’s time to brush her hair because she looks like she slept under a rock.  Nooooo!!  O, I have to do it.  Noooooooo, Daddy do it.  Then here is where I really loose my cool. And I tell her she has been nothing but a pain in the ass all morning. DH yells at me.  And now I just feel guilty.  Have I scarred her?  I really need to stop saying that. After the pucking shit incident, which I am sure she will be saying all of this soon.

I think I pay a lot of attention to her. I give her almost everything she wants (not like buying her things, but like attention, playing, etc.)  I can’t be doing that bad of a job. And yes, sometimes I do give her a lot of freedom to explore (and fall), but I think she needs to be independent and understand consequences, that when you run and are not paying attention, you will fall.

But I have to learn to step back, take a deep breath, and understand that not everything needs to be done in my time schedule.  And deep breath!!!!!

Oh yeah, and yesterday DH stayed home with O, because Titi had a few days off.  He always complains that the house is dirty, or that this not done the way he wants it. I always tell him, then you do it. And I have to watch O.  Well, yesterday I get home from work, and he cleaned the living room, and he says to me. See you can do it all: watch O and clean.  I think this too really upset.  I guess, I don’t care as much about keeping the house spotless.

I have a headache….

How do you do it? How do you keep your cool?  Do you yell at your children??


About RidgewoodMom

Thirtysomething mom of a baby girl. First and only baby, possibly. First baby amongst my close friends. These are the trials, frustrations and lessons I have learned in raising a single child in New York.
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