True Mom Confession

I'm sure by now most of the people who know me (or read about my daily trials) know that I am far from being a perfect mom.  I like to think that I have some things figured out, and I still catch myself judging other moms -- "I wouldn't do it that way," I think many times.  Most days I still yell at one or both of my kids.  I fore go playing with the kids in order to check my email/Facebook, watch a recorded TV show, or to clean the house a few times a week.  And at around 3 PM I begin to watch the clock, waiting for 5 PM, knowing that Tim will be home soon (most days).

And after the exhaustion of the last 3 days, constantly BEING with Tanner, trying to teach him how to share with Brady (and vice versa), I finally had enough last night.  In everyone else's defense, I sorta did it to myself.  Kendall had dance last night until 5, and I wanted to get my hair cut.  I should've gotten it cut while she was at dance instead of after, but I waited.  The kids were fine while I got my new do, but then it was 6 PM when we got back home.  I had to heat up leftovers, then fight with the kiddos about why they wouldn't eat it.  Tim came home unexpectedly early (Thank God!), so he went out to cut the grass after we ate.  Naturally, Tanner wanted to go out with his daddy, which, this time, I didn't argue with.  I can tell he's really missed him the last few days (whether it be because he hasn't seen him much or just because he's tired of looking at me).  So Kendall took her shower while I guzzled a glass of wine cleaned up the dinner dishes (Note to self:  Empty the dishwasher when it is finished.  Otherwise, you will be left with handwashing dishes on a night that is already hectic enough.)

When Kendall was sparkly clean, she went out to get Tanner so he could take his bath.  All of a sudden, he became the most impossible kid!!  (Or maybe I was the most impossible mom.)

"Tanner, you need to go potty before you get in the tub."
"I don't need to."
"Well, you need to try."
"I want to get some toys."
"Tanner, you don't have time to play -- it's late and we need to get ready for bed."
"But I want some toys."
"OK, get two cars.  And then go potty."
"I got Snot Rod and Lightning McQueen.  I don't need to go potty."

He climbs in the tub only to grip his little peanut and make the, "Oh no!" face.  I pull him out and sit him on the potty, knocking SnotRod into the water.

"I don't need to go!  Mommy, get SnotRod!!!!!!!!"
"Tanner you can get him when you finish pottying."
"I DON'T NEED TO GO!!!!!!!!!  I TOLD YOU THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

In hindsight, there are so many other ways I could have handled this situation.  Would it really have hurt to just pick up the car and hand it to Tanner?  Would it have killed us if I had just let him pee in the tub this once?Lord knows he did it when he was younger and drinking the bath water.  But what did I do?

I stood him up and whacked his wet, bare little bottom.

Hard.

Harder than I've ever smacked him.  Hard enough to leave a red mark.

And when his face crumbled, and he began screaming even louder than before, I instantly felt hatred for myself and my short fuse.

How could I do this to my sweet baby?

You have to understand, I love him more than life itself.  I never want to hurt him or see him cry.  And perhaps this is why he has grown to have some of these terrible attributes ... because I've never really made him share or never really told him no.  It's just been the two of us against the world ... for two years now since Kendall started school.  And, secretly, I think I pacify his every need because he's still the one who always loves me.  He still gives me smooches and cuddles for no reason.  He still doesn't want to leave me, not even while I go to the grocery store.  And while that is sometimes a pain in the rear, it is also reassuring.  It feels good to be loved and needed.

So after I popped his hiney, Tanner cried through his bath, just glaring at me with those crocodile tears running down his red little cheeks.  When I wrapped him in his frog towel and cradled him in my arms, I just started crying uncontrollably right along with him.  We sat on his bed and cried for about 5 minutes, both of us together, with me trying to put into hugs how sorry I was for losing my cool.  After he was lotioned up and all clean and calm, I asked him if he forgave me for hitting him.

His response?

"Mommy, I still love you.  I always love you."