I can usually tell if Kyle isn't feeling well if he wakes up during the night, even if it's just to squawk in my face and maybe point at things angrily. If he sleeps well, he's usually well. So, I don't think he's sick or teething right now, but, man, has he been difficult the last few days.
Yes, children just keep getting better and better and I've never known love like this before and he's so freaking cute, how is it legal?, but, seriously, parenting ain't all perfection and bliss. Whoever says it is may be drunk. Or on many consecutive business trips.
I've opened eBay a handful of times this week and just perused their site policies. Perhaps there's a loophole they didn't think of and I could just loan him to someone well-meaning until this whining, tantrumy, hating-all-things-including-being-FED-and-CHANGED-and-CARED-FOR stage has passed.
It will pass, won't it?
I get all doom and gloom when he's had a challenging week. I genuinely start to think, this is just how it is now, isn't it? HE'S GOING TO BE IMPOSSIBLE TO PLEASE FOREVER, PASS THE VALIUM.
And it's not like that's a true impossibility since there are a few people on both sides of the family who may have passed that impossible-to-please gene down to him.
(Not me though. Lord no. I'm a ray of sunshine, always.)
I look forward to picking him up so much on the days I work I'm almost buzzing with excitement when I pull up to his school. And it's such a kick in the crotch when he's cranky from the moment he sees me. He's all pick me up, no put me down, no give me that, I want your keys, NO I DON'T, NO NO NO, UH UH UH, cry, whine, hit Molly, whine, cry, point point point, sign "more" over and over without really wanting more of anything except maybe more blood to seep out of his mother's ears.
Do you know how hard it is to spend the few hours a day I have with Kyle just trying to control my frustrations and communicate with him effectively and tap into reserves of patience I truly don't have?
It's unbelievably hard.
And it's sad, too, because Mike and I both work so hard to give Kyle a good life, and it can be emotionally defeating when our good intentions morph into "let's just make it to bedtime without losing our cool, and consider it a successful day."
I know, it's just been a week. That's nothing! Life with a toddler is a roller-coaster: highs, lows, twists that make you want to puke. You have to roll with it, or you'll get clobbered by it. I know this, rationally.
But, emotionally? I collapse onto the couch after he's gone to sleep and think, those weren't good memories we just made. And that really sucks.
I'm not really sure why I wrote this, maybe for advice? Sure, give me advice, why not, but mostly for some commiseration.
Because that's really all that gets me through sometimes, knowing I'm not alone.
You have no idea how much I've been able to handle in life simply because one other person reached through their computer screen and said, "Yeah, me too."