It's a good thing I'm not the leader of a country. I like to think that I'd be all democratic and up with people and let them eat cake (only I'd actually give them cake) but if we're basing this on how I rule my roost, it'd be dictatorship all the way, and not one of those fun, benevolent ones. The youngster has been pushing my buttons lately and I'm feeling all kinds of glum about it. I'm not sure what I expected. Go-with-the-flow types get relaxed, laid back babies, Type-A, control-freaky mothers give birth to stubborn, I DA BOSSes. (Seems like the world would work a whole lot better if it were the other way around, since go-with-the-flows could handle I-da-bosses.) It was so much easier when it wasn't my kid. Don't want to pee in the potty? Tell me all about it while you're sitting on the potty. Don't want to wear shoes? Here, give me a hand while I put on your shoes. Don't want to eat dinner? Your mom will be home in 10 minutes and she can deal with it. But after 45 minutes of rocking and humming and trying to convince myself that zerbets and hair pulling are signs of sleepiness, I start to feel defied. And then I get mad. I'm not saying I've tossed the kid in the crib while muttering that someone's going to learn to put himself to sleep and then leaving the poor, overtired kid to sob for 20 minutes. I'm not saying I've gotten pissed and popped him on the butt and then felt like the world's crappiest, most undeserving parent because what kind of mother spanks their kid? I am saying that the kind of mother I want to be and the kind of mother I sometimes am have been going ten rounds lately. I haven't figured out the balance between being in charge and being in control. I keep forgetting that he's an actual person, one who's learning to make his needs known. (Which is great until they bump up against my need to sleep or go to the bathroom.) I just know that I spend an awful lot of time worrying that I'm f-ing up my kid. Maybe that's a mother thing, I never hear dads talking about that. I know they have other concerns (are they spending enough time, making enough money) but that sense of shaping (and therefore potentially damaging) their kid's life, I'm not sure that they fear that the way mothers do. (Correct me if I'm wrong, dads.)
Anybody else go through this b.s.?