I just spent the last hour in the kitchen watching you kick and scream and pick up pieces of trash as slowly as you possibly could. I have lost every last ounce of patience I can muster.
You have been having a really hard time adjusting to Guin being at school all day. You and I have some really great time together, and you are amazing on your own. You have the room to create yourself and I have been enjoying our time together. But as soon as we pick Guin up from school, you start whining and throwing tantrums. It's obvious that you're not doing well with the change in our schedule, but I'm at a loss as to how to fix it.
Today, after a fight over a broken balloon, you asserted yourself by dumping the full kitchen garbage all over the floor. And we sat together in the kitchen until you cleaned up every last piece. It would have been so much easier to just clean up the mess myself. But you have to be responsible for your behavior, and this is the only way I can think of to use this as a teaching moment for you.
And it's hard. Teaching you instead of taking the easy route, keeping myself from screaming at you when I'm just out of patience, holding my ground even when you hold my heart and I hate to see you upset. And I feel guilty that your life has been uprooted enough that you feel like this is the best way to get attention...
The funniest part is that I remember doing the same thing when I was a kid. I was mad at my dad for something, so I dumped out his entire rack of CDs. Hundreds of them. And I had to sit and pick them all back up. And organize them. By artist. In alphabetical order. See? You're just lucky we have digital music now.
So here I will sit. One egg shell piece at a time, until you clean up your mess, hoping I'm doing the right thing for us both. I hope you have children just. Like. You.
Mom
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