I am always amused by the women who post on social media about how great parenting is. How wonderful and sweet their children are. How much they enjoy being mothers. I mean, more power to them but I have to tell you that lately, parenthood for me has been a long slog filled with shit sandwiches.
It is not that I don't love my kid. I do. But if I could send him to military school right this second? I would barely hesitate. He is not a bad kid for other people, in fact, he is rarely all that awful to Ron. But to me? He can be a beast. A nasty, mean jackass. He bosses me around. He yells at me. Today, he was so upset with me that he got in my face, screamed at me and pointed his finger in my face.
I handled it. I do not need advice on dealing with his bullshit. I have it under control. What I do not have under control is how much it drains me. I hate how much of a struggle even just being around him has been lately. It really bums me out. His behavior is completely unacceptable. Doesn't he know that if he just stopped fighting me, I would listen to him? We could being doing fun things? Instead we ride the struggle bus.
I have heard that spirited, willful kids are blessings because they are generally successful adults. I do hope so. I know that I was similar as a kid and maybe even am sometimes like this as an adult but lord have mercy, he is a pill.
The only thing I can take comfort in is that when shit got gnarly when he was a baby (teething, terrible twos) it was a always a phase he grew out of. The whole "this, too, shall pass." thing. I am gonna put all my eggs in that basket.
And drink a bottle of wine. Yes, a whole bottle.