So yesterday wasn't my finest parenting day so far. My 2.5 year old son pushed me to the limits and I turned in to a mum I never wanted to be, I feel the need to say sorry.
Rockstar, we had a really busy weekend with your aunty and seven year old cousin staying. You and her do push each other's buttons and wind each other up. We went out a lot, late to bed and early mornings, so yesterday when we had just a 'normal' day, just me and you, it was clearly not enough for you.
You are what I call a 'proper boy' - you can be a bit boisterous and we love a rough and tumble but we also love cuddles and kisses, but yesterday it all went a step too far. We had a discussion over breakfast, I know that's not a fight to battle, you got your banana.
I know you were tired and you wanted mummy to play but I really did need to tidy the house. Mummy tried to explain that she would play as soon as she had done the washing but that wasn't enough. You threw your cars out of the play room, tipped up the crayon pot, emptied the contents of the play kitchen. I told you off but carried on.
I could hear you shouting out at me to play, I felt bad but the house was such a mess, I needed to get on top of it before we started making a mess again. I know sometimes days can be boring, in my head I was telling you we would go to the park this afternoon but I couldn't say it out loud otherwise you'd want to go now.
Your shouting continued, I gave in and came to sat on the floor with you, you settled for a bit until you found the plastic golf club but couldn't find the ball. You got so frustrated, I asked you to just wait while I looked for it for you, but instead you hit me over the back with it. Hard.
It did hurt, but only as much as a plastic golf club can! I think it was just the end of a few hours of 'naughtiness'. I shouted at you, loudly, probably louder than I have before, to the point of the dog going to the back door wanting to go out in the rain and get away. I took the club from you and put it out of reach, you had a breakdown, you screamed and started to pick up imaginary things from the floor and throw them at me. I took hold of your arm and moved you out of the play room, I sat you on the floor in the kitchen and asked you to sit there and think about what you'd done. You got up and walked off, hitting the dog on your way past. I shouted again.
I repeated the process, to get the same reaction. What more could I do? The house was a mess, I didn't really care about that, you were clearly angry and sad and at this point so was I. I took you in my arms and asked you to calm down, it didn't help, you lashed out at me again. We ended up both sat on the sofa crying.
You looked at me and asked why was I crying, I explained that you'd hurt me and I was sad that you were unhappy. I said I was sorry for crying. You asked me to say sorry to you for pulling your arm. I laughed, I had to say sorry to you!
Here I was sat looking a mess, feeling so awful that I shouted really loudly at you, forcefully taking your arm, and not playing with you. How did we get to this point? I never wanted to be the mother that shouted back at my gorgeous handsome boy and cry in front of you but it's happened and I'm worried it won't be the last time.
The day didn't continue like that, you ate your lunch with no arguments, you had a sleep and we went to the park and had fun. We talked about being kind and gentle but I didn't push it too much. By the time daddy came home you were calmer as if nothing had happened, I on the other hand was still struggling so I was pretty quick to hand you over to daddy and go and have a bath (with a wine). I cried again. You went to bed like a good boy after lots of kisses and cuddles saying Love you Mummy. I love you Rocco
I told Mr S about our day and that I was worried about these outbursts and maybe they were our fault. He is our only child but I wouldn't say he was spoilt, but I do find myself giving in sometimes and maybe that'd where it's started.
I want him to be a kind loving boy but I can't help thinking that there's something underlying that is making him so frustrated. He's not like it all the time. I mentioned it to nursery today and they assured me it wasn't just Rocco, it was him pushing boundaries but they'd keep an eye on it.
Every day of parenting is challenging I'm still adapting to it, but I survived. Not sure how many more I will cope with and I will admit I was happy that today is a nursery day. I just need to think back to a few days ago when we were in the supermarket, Rocco and I were chatting like we do and a lovely lady came over to say how nice it was that I told him I was proud of him and that he was a good boy. She praised us both for not screaming and shouting at each other.
If only she'd seen us yesterday.
Picture Authors Own