At two o'clock today I found out that I'm having surgery tomorrow afternoon. That didn't leave me much time at all to prepare for any help while I recover. So what do you do when you're in a bind? No... you don't grab a bottle of wine to mull it over, but I like the way you think. You go with your last resort, cross your fingers, pray to the gods, and brace yourself for doing most of it yourself.
So, surgery at three.
I've had some great help since the last surgery. I found her on sittercity.com. She's been coming out from 6:30 in the morning til seven in the evening. What a keeper! She's a dream with Alyssa... patient, sweet, fun, and hasn't gotten on my nerves even once in the two weeks that she's been with us. That's more than I can say for my own child. Bless her heart... Alyssa, that is. She is testing her boundaries with me lately. She threw a big tantrum at nap time. That was fun. Not. Then tonight she threw a fit that made nap time look like a day at the spa! During our bedtime routine we brush her teeth, go potty, put on pj's, and finally read a book and sing a couple of nursery rhymes. She couldn't go potty so we went to put on pj's and she started whining that she had to go potty again. We went through this cycle three times before I said "It's OK if you can't go potty. You can try again tomorrow." So, back to the bedroom, again, for the pj's. When she tried to pull the "potty" whining the fourth time I said "Let's put on pj's and read together". Redirect, right? No. That's when the fight started. She got so angry and started screaming, kicking, and hitting. I tried to ignore it and put her pj's on her, but then she kicked me square in the right breast. That's when I exercised my parental right to discipline and spanked her bare butt*, but it DID NOT stop. It only made her madder and louder. Oh my god. Seriously, I didn't know what to do. So, I took a breath, waited a while for a break in the tantrum and then told her we'd try one more time. This time, though, I faked her out. When she didn't potty, I just said "Great job!!!" gave her the toilet paper, let her flush, and it worked. Ugh. This being a parent thing has its hard moments. Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing the right thing and it makes me feel clueless, guilty, and stressed. Am I giving in? Am I not giving in enough? Am I promoting her fit in some way? Am I on my way to a straight-jacket and a daily dose of a tranquilizer, complete with the drool? I can not wait for this year to be over so that my husband will be home. Then I can relieve myself of feeling like I'm not doing anything right, and focus on telling him what he's doing wrong with her. I like it better like that. (That's supposed to be funny just in case you didn't take your humor vitamin today.)
*There is a very clear line between spanking and beating a child. Because of today's society and the fact that some people (the know-it-all, obnoxious ones that usually have kids that are as equally obnoxious) think a spanking is abuse, I feel as if I must make that delineation here. I very rarely spank my daughter. If I do, it is because I refuse to raise an unruly brat. My first go-to is a warning, then time-outs. then taking away toys. But every once in a while, and as Alyssa's mommy I know exactly when this is, none of that is going to work. So, don't go calling the social worker's on me. I'm no child abuser. I'm just a mom with a very sore boob that loves her daughter.