I've been out of the writing loop lately, I know.
This lack of writing has its reasons.
Specifically a 3 year old one.
The days of no nap time has descended.
.....DUH DUH DUH....
And quite honestly it's killing me.
It was hard enough (for me) when we took him out of pre-school a month ago. No major reasons, it just wasn't making the budget cut if you know what I mean.
It was only 2 days a week but it was 2 days a week that I knew I had to get things accomplished. Cleaning, groceries, errands, phone calls or simply to just relax and enjoy my time with the little guy.
Now on top of him not being in preschool he's now not napping ... ergo NO BREAK for Mommy.
I love my child more than the world. And most of the time I do adore the age of 3 as much as it makes me bonkers.
These past 3 weeks have been pure madness. I don't know what is going on in his little mind and I know in all reality and logic that he's not thinking to himself every morning when he wakes up, "I'm out to get my Mommy today...oh yeah...I'm gonna make her crazynuts ... I can't wait to make her mad, scream and possibly cry ... it's SO MUCH FUN to make her feel like she's on the edge of insanity. I LOVE IT!"
*insert high pitched deranged laughter here*
Or maybe he is.
Like I said. I have no idea.
This is what I get to deal with on pretty much a daily basis: major tantrums in the middle of the grocery store because he wants "SUGAR!!! I NEED SUGAR!" or insisting he plays in the sprinkler on a day that's drizzly and not even remotely warm, pushing his brother down blatantly in front of me, taking Finley's toys away, telling me he doesn't like me, refusing to eat ANYTHING but insisting on drinking juice 24/7 which results in accidents because he thinks he's a camel and can hold it for all of eternity, refusing to wash his hands after using the washroom (why this is such a big deal to him I don't understand), defiantly ignoring me and everything that comes out of my mouth (this is probably the WORST thing to do to me), getting buck nekkid and climbing all over my bed sitting his bare ass on my pillows (clean or not this is not cool), climbing on and jumping off of every piece of furniture or surface in the house, using every toy as a weapon and tormenting our poor dog - or his brother, peeing basically anywhere he deems fit which is everywhere that it is NOT...in the middle of parks, on our deck, on our front lawn in front of the entire neighbourhood (thankfully he does use the washrooms like a normal person when indoors), the constant challenge of every. single. thing. I say, that when he actually brushes his teeth the first time I ask him to it's like the Gods have shined upon us for a moment. I really feel like a good mother for that split second...I think "yes, I can handle this...I totally know what I'm doing". And then he goes completely beserko, screaming and throwing his body down on the floor because he can't get the lid off the toothpaste....or he can't find his toothbrush (he only has 4 depending on his 'mood').
Reading back the list of what makes me feel like I'm about to go batshit bananas it doesn't sound SO bad I suppose. The thing is, it's not like these things happen one at a time or even every couple of hours. It's one after the next and it's usually when I'm trying to make lunch or dinner and his brother's cranky or the dog is barking or my husband's away. It's the total culmination of EVERYTHING. And nothing seems to work to rectify my child's behaviour.
I give time outs.
He screams and bangs and cries at his door.
I take toys away for the day and he fixates on that toy for the entire day which translates into more tantrums.
I ignore him, walk away.
He gets louder or decides to get my attention again by kicking or breaking something.
I get down to his level and ask him to talk to me - he won't even look at me and/or runs away.
It's losing battle and I feel like I'm failing every minute of the day with him.
To think ahead 10 years from now scares the bejesus outta me.
I am at my wit's end. It's been 3 weeks of this and the madness needs to stop before I feel it necessary to check myself into a psych ward.
I'm tired, I'm frazzled, my nerves are shot and I feel at the end of the day that I've been physically, mentally and emotionally beaten down.
And that's when I run to my Mommy and Daddy.
That's right. My husband's away and this Mumma is packin' up and headin' out for few days.
I'm goin' home.
And I can't wait.