I had a particularly difficult morning with James today, and I can’t help but continue to torture myself by reliving it out over and over in my mind… 

It started out to be a great day.  James woke up a little early, but aside from that, there were tender morning snuggles, rocking in his chair, moments of giggles and laughter, and lots of iPhone picture-taking.  

As the morning went on, I began to feel rushed trying to get everything (and everyone) ready for the day.  I got us both dressed, and headed down the stairs to feed him breakfast.

I offered him blueberries - he did not like them.  

I fed him rice cereal with mixed babyfood - he was not a fan.  

I mixed that in with some yogurt - he tolerated it but tried to take the rice cereal parts out of his mouth (if you think about this, you will realize.. it’s not possible to do this).

Finally I just gave him the yogurt, but even then, we would use his hands to spit out the yogurt and then throw it on the placemat, the table, the floor…

His hands and face were a mess, and he was touching everything.  Then the whining started.  He refused any and all advances with the spoon.

I was on a time schedule. I had to get him fed in the next 10 minutes so I could drop him off at daycare and get to work in time for a meeting.

The protests, whining and fussing continued.

And then, in a moment of overwhelming stress and frustration, I yelled at him “STOP IT! Stop crying!! STOP IT!” in my meanest voice.  A voice I almost didn’t recognize myself.  

He looked at me, stopped for a moment in shock and started crying even harder.  Big tears rolling down his face.  Quietly, but still angry, I took him out of his highchair and placed him gently on the floor — I didn’t even want to hold him with how difficult he was being.  This led to louder and harder crying.  And then I lost it.  I was furious as I looked at the clock, realizing I was going to be late for work.  I was so angry.  And I don’t even really know why.

Still crying, he slowly, with all his might, crawled over to me for comfort, wanting me to pick him up and hold him.  But I walked away, into the kitchen. 

I walked. away.  From my own crying son.  My 12 month old son.  

I yelled at him in a way that would have infuriated me to see ANYONE else treat him like that.

And then I snapped out of it just as quickly as I had been angered.

I picked him up, held him close, shhh’d and soothed him, apologized for the way I was acting, cleaned us both up, cleaned the kitchen and got him in the car to go to daycare.  I handed him over to one of the caretakers, neglecting to share our morning fiasco. I kissed him goodbye, got in my car, pulled out of my parking spot, and just broke down crying.

I felt like a monster. I felt like a horrible mother.

I still feel like a monster.  Like a horrible mother.  He’s a baby!  He’s supposed to act like this.  But it was ME who was acting like a baby.  He is the most precious thing in my entire life.  The thing that I prayed and asked God to give me for months and months and months.  How could I just treat something I loved this way.  Something that needed me, that depended of me.

I’m so embarrassed and ashamed of myself.  I’ve never felt this way as a mother, but it hit me like a ton of bricks this morning, and I hope I never forget this feeling.

I sense that the start of many real parenting scenarios is just beginning.  Don’t get me wrong, I was a parent from the moment James was placed on my chest almost exactly one year ago.. but now he’s starting to test his boundaries.  Now he’s starting to decide what he likes and dislikes, what he can get away with, whether I really meant “no” when I said it.

This test of my patience was probably one of the first of many to come, and quite frankly, I failed.  Big time.

My job right now, is to love this little guy.  That is my first job.  It takes priority over the one that sends me my paycheck.  Because my job as a mother is far more important and has an incredible lasting effect.  How I parent will dictate the type of man James becomes.  Yea, that’s a lot of pressure, but that is the honest truth.

Fortunately, James has probably forgotten the entire situation from this morning.  In fact, before I put him in his car seat to go to daycare, I asked him for a big hug.  He hugged me and let me hold him for a long time.

So until the next situation arises, and I’m sure it will quickly, I will forgive myself as he has, move on, and let it remind me not to loose my cool in an instant.

Parenting is tough stuff.. 

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• parenting
• motherhood
• mom
• baby
• toddler

I’ve just now started to think about things for his birthday party on Saturday… eh.  

I’m an emotional mess.. :(

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• first birthday
• james
• party
• 1
• 1 year old
• motherhood

Some days I just wish I was a SAHM…

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• motherhood
• working mom
• prayer