Thursday, September 29, 2011

Blood Boiling

Let's get one thing straight.  I don't believe in spanking as a disciplinary philosophy.  My reasoning tells me that it makes no sense to teach our kids not to hit by turning around and hitting them.  It just doesn't compute in the teeny little logical part of my brain that actually works when I've had such limited sleep. 

That being said, I have this here blog as a way to connect and reach out.  There's no sense in writing about parenting on here if I'm not going to be honest about the things that are amazing and what is a struggle.

Right now, Micah is causing some serious struggles in our house.  He just turned two on September 10th and if you were to look up "Terrible Twos" in the dictionary, you would find a photo of my Micah.  It's bad.  So bad that I've seriously considered auditioning for Supernanny just so Jo Frost could come and wave her metaphorical British magic wand and make it all better.

Bedtime and naptime are absolute nightmares.  I don't know how else to describe it.  As I write this, I'm sitting on the couch at 9:07 pm.  Bedtime was 8:00 and within thirty minutes, I had returned Micah to bed 10 times.  I finally lost my temper and (here it comes) spanked his bottom a few times and hollered at him. I stormed into the living room and hollered at Evan too, like it was going to do a lick of good.  He told me to stay in here and chill out while he took "Micah duty." He's standing outside the bedroom door, just waiting to hear Micah get up so he can go in and return him to bed.  Over and over and over.

This goes on for hours.  Naptime and bedtime.  Every day.

And every day, I get so frustrated that I resort to spanking and yelling.

I'm at my wits end here, folks.  I'm not proud of it, but it's true.  I don't like the Mommy I become in those moments and I try so hard to ignore the volcano that builds up inside me, but as the power struggle drags on and on and on, I lose control and find myself yelling and swatting that boy on the diaper. 

It's not that he can't sleep, because he can.  It's not that he isn't tired, because he is.  What it comes down to is a tug-o-war for control between a 2 year old and his parents.  And right now, he's winning. 


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