Thursday, September 11, 2008

I don't want to be a mom anymore

I don’t want to be a mom anymore

At least that’s how I’m feeling today. It’s a contradictory position to take I’m sure, but I’ll bet there are others out there like me, having a bad mom day that is.

Nothing spectacular has happened; I’m just tired of being chained to a 9 year old. One I will be chained to for the next 9 years and then a lifetime after that, just not as explicit.

I am aware that I chose this life: a single mother who went back to school at the age of 26 to get an undergraduate degree, Peanut then 3, and now again to get my master’s, Peanut now 9. Who knew Peanut’s dad was going to be a total waste of a life partner, so much so that I honestly thought since I was doing it by myself anyway, I may as well really have a go at it alone because at least then I wouldn’t have to argue over parenting styles?

As the cliché goes, hindsight is 20/20.

If anyone would have told me how hard it would be, I wouldn’t have listened. I’m strong-willed, stubborn, fastidious in nature, unwilling to give up easy, tenacious and so many other adjectives that probably won’t help a certain special someone like me any more than he already does.

I also know I’m caring, thoughtful, playful, a total goofball, definitely a smart ass and above all else I take care of those who are most important to me to the best of my ability.

But damn raising kids can bring out the worst in people can’t it? They are our mirrors, throwing back in our faces the faults we didn’t realize were there to begin with. Self-awareness is a huge part of being a parent, I think, which is probably what makes it so difficult at the same time.

Peanut told me a week or so ago he didn’t like how I more often than not talked to him in a mean tone. Or better yet, am always telling him what to do, i.e. pick his clothes up off the floor, put his shoes away, why are his pj’s on my bed and recently, he’ll have to fold his own clothes and put them away (they are still in the basket just so you know), just to name a few.

And I agree. Who likes to be harped on all the time? Nagged, eh, not so much.

If I had someone around to help 24/7 like most duel parent households, I probably wouldn’t be as demanding or even commanding. But because I am the only one trying to keep this boy in line and make him into something, self-responsibility being a major component of this partnership, I get tired and of course getting stuck in a rut is a strong possibilty. Even Super Nanny says it’s bad.

Here comes the but again; I need to play with him, too. I want him to be able to talk to me about anything and everything on his mind. I want to be that kind of mom for him. I want him to trust that I will always put his needs before anyone else’s, despite how selfish I really honestly truly feel at time. (This is very hard at times, just so you know.)

Over the summer Peanut was with his dad for 2 weeks, me 2 weeks, then his dad, etc., for a total of 5 weeks. It was the first time I truly got a taste of being a single adult woman and I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was really hard getting back into the routine of waking Peanut up at 7, spending 15 minutes trying to get him out of bed and into clothes, then another 10 or 15 minutes getting him to brush his teeth and hair and, Hey, why are you playing when we need to leave NOW?!, and of course dropping him off at daycare then hurrying to work. And it all starts again at 5 beginning with picking him up from daycare, shuttling us home, cooking him dinner then walking the dogs after he eats, making sure he gets a bath/shower when I get back and again getting him to brush his teeth and get into bed. And to stay in bed. Wait, why are you out of bed again? *sigh*

It’s no wonder we get stuck in myriad ruts over and over again.

Hopefully, that’s what weekends are for. We try to do something fun, play with each other and spend quality time together. Now there is that special someone who enjoys goofing off, too, who also isn’t afraid of being around a kid (and as far as I can tell, not the least bit intimidated either). He’s already pointed out a few things I do that aren’t exactly productive parenting, ; ).

Tomorrow is a new day. But damnit, I want to feel what I feel now and be justified in my indignation, maybe even a little bit of resentment!


I'm not the only one, see?

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