Cause you had a bad day...

Anyone, besides me, read the post title and start singing the song made famous by American Idol in their head? Anyone? Okay… I must be “different” (or so I’ve been told!).

(As a side note... this post is long, drawn out with way too much detail and probably quite boring. If you don't want to read about my "fun" with Andrew's evil twin, stop here!)

I was going to do a post about Andrew’s speech, but instead, I was inspired by a few others out in blogland. Apparently, I’m not the only one that has had a few rough parenting moments lately! Jackie said it best… and to paraphrase… blogland is often like the Stepford Wives. Everything appears to be perfect so when you’re going through a rough patch you feel like it’s just you. Well, guess what folks? Between Kim, Jackie and I – you’re not alone.

So, what happened? Well, Saturday was my day with Andrew. Keith had to work and on Sunday I had to work so we split duties over the weekend. I had planned on meeting Karyn, Norm and Ilya since they were in town, but poor little Ilya was a sick little guy. Regardless, it wasn’t a good day for my little monster and I!

The day started out on a good foot. I was proud at how calm I was and how I was handling everything with ease. I didn’t freak out after the umpteenth time I was told “no” about something, which is a big feat because I hate being told no (accompanied by his little smirk and smile – I know… get used to it, right?). Early in the day, Andrew decided that he wanted to take a bath to which I thought “Awesome! A little break!”. Wrong!

Bath time consisted of him soaking the bathroom floor and when told not to throw his toys out of the tub I was told NO. He was also continuously yelling at the top of his lungs. The conversation went something like this (now, mind you, I was talking in a very nice, but stern, non-confrontational tone – trying something new which backfired).

Andrew (yelling): “NUMBER A! NUMBER A! LEAVE NUMBER B ALONE!” (we’re working on what’s a number vs. a letter)

Mom (calmly): Andrew, please don’t yell. It’s very early in the morning and Alex is still sleeping. You can play with your letters, but please use your inside voice.

Andrew (yelling): NO!!!!!!

Mom (calmly): Andrew, this is your 2nd warning. One more and you’re going to have to get out of the tub. No more yelling please.

Andrew (screaming as loud as can be): NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Mom picks Andrew up out of the tub and all hell breaks lose. “I want to pick up my letters! I need to pick up my toys! No, no, no, no, no!!!” and the boy has a complete meltdown on the floor. I told him to take some time to calm down and then we would talk about what happened. HA!

Did I mention that, at this point, it’s not even 9am??

Rewind, repeat, rewind, repeat over the next 2 hours. Alex wakes up at some point and he needs to go to the pool for a swim-a-thon. We decide we’re going to stop at the local mall on the way there. Aunt Mandy was going to meet us, which always makes Andrew happy. Long story short, about 20 minutes after we got there, I walked back to the car with a crying, screaming, wiggling child in my arms. 34 pounds is HEAVY. By the time we got to Sears, I thought I was going to die. (The stroller was in Keith’s car)

Every time I tried to adjust him or set him down to pick him back up again he would try to bolt or he would drop his dead weight. My back was killing me and I just wanted to throw up my arms and say “You know what kid? Want to run away? Go for it!” Instead, I started crying. Yep, in the middle of Sears. Nice, huh?

I managed to get him to my car, put him in the back seat (not in the car seat because I had no plans on driving). He laid on the floor of the back seat balling and I sat in the front seat balling. It was six months worth of tears coming down all at once. You know that cry you have when you can’t breathe and you sound like a seal? That was me. My poor sister comes out to the car to get Alex’s swim bag (she’s going to take him to practice for me at this point) and has no clue what to do. I was inconsolable. Just a mess.

Fast forward to getting home (yes, Andrew was in his carseat). Time for nap time. I put him into bed and he proceeded to stand up. He was E-X-H-A-U-S-T-E-D (which was probably the problem in the morning) but he was in “I’m going to do anything possible to get my mother worked up again” mode. I sat at the top of the stairs with my fingers in my ears so I didn’t have to hear him. I knew if I listened to him I would start balling again.

I hear Keith come home and so I went downstairs and asked him to please go tell Andrew to take a nap. He asked me if everything was okay and, guess what? Waterworks started again! As I mentioned earlier, I haven’t cried this month in 6 months – maybe even longer! I was a big mess. He told me to go nap and so I did.

After naptime, all was well.

So what’s the point of all of this? I guess I’ve just come to realize that I’m not perfect, Andrew’s not perfect and each day isn’t going to be like a Hallmark greeting card. I’m also starting to realize that Andrew knows how to push my buttons and which ones to push. He’s a smart, smart kid. I need to learn to handle things differently and not react to the little things because otherwise he’ll do it again and again and again.

I also need to learn to read Andrew better and know when enough is enough. When he needs attention, when he’s tired, when he’s hungry and when we need to make our world smaller in order to avoid meltdowns.

One of the hardest parts about parenting an adoptive child is separating PI (post-institutionalization) issues from normal 3 year old issues. After meltdown 9,000, I started reading things on the internet. Are there attachment issues? Does he have sensory issues? Is he reacting to his transition to the big kids room at school which took place the previous week? Did I handle things wrong? What could I have done differently? You could drive yourself nuts trying to pinpoint each reaction to everything!

There will be days like this… and it’s okay! With each bad day comes a bunch of good ones and, thankfully, they help fade the bad ones to the back of our minds. Monday, Andrew and I had an awesome day and we’ve had a great week. I will figure out this parenting thing. A 3 year old is not going to win!

Thanks to Jackie and Kim for sharing their woes… it really, really helps to know that I’m “normal”.

Next up… Andrew’s daycare transition to the big kid room and his speech. Note to self: start writing down things Andrew says!

Have a great day!
Becky