I do not often ask for respect. But, I always need it. When I do ask for it, I'm already angry and I'm not playing. Skyler never understands that. He thinks this whole Quarantine is his personal playtime and everyone else in the house is his butler.
"Make me tea."
"Make me a sandwich."
"Give me your phone."
"Put on this TV show."
"Put on that TV show."
I cannot handle it for one more second. I am done. I am his mother. I am not his friend. I will not be spoken to like I'm his maid. EVER AGAIN. I told him this today. He looked at me, smiled and nodded. But, again screamed at me. Again disrespected me. It's almost like the only thing he has learned this month is how to disrespect his mom. Yes, I have been in my own world. Yes, I might have thought it was cute at the beginning. I gave him the sandwich. I gave him my phone. I gave in to his every single whim. And now I'm surprised that he throws a tantrum when I say now. I'm surprised that he screams when he doesn't get his way. He's 4-years old. FOUR.
How do you respond when you don't get what you want?
The other day the shop didn't have marshmallows, I cried. I threw myself onto the bed and screamed my lungs out. I was very upset. I didn't shout at the shopkeeper. I didn't shout at my husband. I was calm until I got home and broke down. Yes, no normal person cries over marshmallows either. But, hey. This is not a normal situation that we found ourselves in, is it?
Bottom line. Even adults get upset. We do. You know we do. But, how did we learn to not punch the shopkeeper? Who taught us that a tantrum in the middle of the aisle is not the greatest way to work through your emotions?
Did we learn to manage our own emotions?
Dis our teachers teach us?
Our parents?
I cannot remember who taught me, can you?
Sometimes I feel like I'm still learning how to control my own emotions. Now, how on this Mother Earth am I supposed to teach a child to manage his emotions if I cannot manage my own?
This is insanity.
How am I a functional adult?
My poor baby.
So, what I did today was pull him aside and I gave him a lecture.
"Look at me" I almost shouted, "Look me in the eyes. I am your mother, Skyler. I am not your friend! Do you understand?"
"Yes," he squeaked like a little mouse, swallowing tears. My heart sank. This was not how I wanted this to go.
"I love you," I said instead of the rest of the lecture I thought of and I gave him my phone.
I realize now that at that moment I lost. Not the war, but definitely that specific battle. Especially if you consider how quickly the tears ran dry as soon as he held my phone in his little clammy hands.
I went to my room and cried. Yes, this mature, responsible adult, threw her own little pity party in her room and cried.
When I was calm, I rejoined my boys and watched him play. Then my phone rang, I watched him slide the red dot instantly before it even rang and my blood boiled. Who does he think he is? Is he serious? He begs for my phone and then instead of bringing me the phone as he promised, he swiped left.
"Skyler," I call.
"No one phoned you, mommy," he shouted and ran out of the room. I ran right after him and grabbed the phone out of his hands.
