Some days are harder than other. Today was one of those days.
I’m utterly exhausted, (which, by the way, I thought was supposed to get better in the second trimester) and extremely hormonal while going through a stressful high risk pregnancy. Needless to say my patience is really, really thin. Now, add my 2-year-old son who thinks Mommy is a jungle gym with a fluffy new punching/kicking bag for a tummy that is oh so much fun to jump on, and his ear-splitting, high pitch excited shreek, who decided not to nap today. It’s been a very long, tearful day.
I know that all parents have these kinds of days. I know that this is some kind of phase he is going through. Okay, I’m praying that it is a phase. I know that things might get harder before they get better but I hate not having the patience that my son deserves. I hate that I’ve been short with him. I hate that I’ve been quick to raise my voice. I hate that I don’t know how to help him to understand that what he is doing is hurting me/can hurt him/might hurt the baby/not something we do inside/etc…
I’ve tried everything I can think of. I’ve taken other parents advice. Family’s advice. Friend’s advice. His Doctors advice. Researched, and have done what the “professionals” advise to do. Nothing works, and I’ve decided it’s not going to because there isn’t anything that I can say or do to “make” him understand. It’s up to me to find my patience, be consistent with everything, and pray that this “phase” passes quickly. I just have to remind myself that he is just being a 2-year-old boy doing what little boys do. (Lord help me if I get another one.)