She's not my Mother

            It was 6:40am last Thursday morning, Ben had been giving me a rough time for the past few mornings, but this one topped the cake. Dragging him out of bed was a challenge, especially since he’s decided that he needs to sleep on the top bunk of his new “bunk house.” After getting him down, he started to kick and scream, refused to eat breakfast, get dressed, or even watch tv for a few minutes. “No” was definitely the word of the day. I wrestled with him to get his pull up off, that was a battle because he screamed and kicked while holding on to his urine soaked pull-up. Yes, he was so adamant about doing the opposite of what I wanted him to do, he was willing to wear a wet pull-up all day rather than a clean pair of underwear. After some more of what seemed to be UFC without the cage occurred, he was finally dressed, and very unhappy about it.  I know you’re thinking that I’m the adult and he’s 3, and I know my description of the problem doesn’t give a great visual, but it was bad, and I was thankful that our neighbor was gone on vacation because if he had been home I’m sure he would have called the police for what sounded like a bloody massacre going on in my house. After carrying Ben under one arm, kicking and screaming the whole way to my car, I strapped him in, which was also a brawl because Ben decided that he did not want to sit in his booster seat or be buckled in. Forcefully I held his surprisingly strong arms down, leaned in to hold his legs in with my body, and buckled him…a third arm would have been really helpful at this moment. The screaming was unrelenting. Everything I did was WRONG. “No, don’t back up.” “No, don’t turn down dat road.” “No, I don’t want to do go.” Absolutely everything was against his wishes. I called Adam at work, which I never do, and as soon as I heard his voice on the phone I lost control of my emotions. I cried, and cried…and continued to cry as I carried Ben into daycare kicking and screaming. There’s not much else in life worse than leaving your children while they’re so upset, it really does weigh heavily on your heart. As mad as I was, and sad, and guilty feeling…I left, and went to work. I called my mom at 7:00am, still crying, but hoping not to wake her. She must have thought I was crazy. Luckily, I hear, “Hello?” She was obviously concerned, I never call that early. All I could mutter was, “I’m going to kill Ben.” Obviously this wasn’t the case, but I wanted some sympathy and some words of wisdom from someone who raised 3 children and faced the same frustrations. She gave me several suggestions, talked me down from the emotional ledge that I was teetering on, and the conversation ended with both of us laughing at how trying children can be at times.

            Still holding a bit of a grudge, but trying to be patient with my ever-stubborn 3 year old space ranger, I decided that I needed to be a little sterner. As we were in the hotel this weekend, Adam was sensing my frustration. I had asked Ben to put his cowboy boots on (his choice of footwear, not mine), but he blatantly ignored me. Adam harshly shouted, “Benjamin, LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER!.” Ben stood up, through his arms down in disgust and yelled, “SHE’S NOT MY MUDDER….she’s my mommy.” And with that single statement, I melted, I couldn’t be mad or frustrated, or anything…just in love with that lil cowboy! He’s right, I’m not his mother, I am and always will be his mommy through and through. I will forever think of this statement long into his crazy teenage years that will arrive before I know it, and when he goes off to college, and forever. Thanks Benji, for helping me to forget the frustrations, grudges, and anxiety that go along with being a mommy…because the hugs, smiles, and happiness are so worth every minute!