I had one of those days when I hate being a parent and I wonder if my relationship with my son is beyond repair. The look on his face when I took away his smoothie because I wanted him to take one bite of his dinner (he did not eat a single bite tonight) was nothing a mom wants to see from her son. He screamed, crumpled to the floor, cried for his dad, and shot me a look of disgust and fear. When I tried to take him to the bathroom (he hadn't gone in over 4 hours), he flailed about so much that he banged his head into the wall. Then when I attempted to brush and floss his teeth, he again started flailing about that he fell off the stepstool and bit the inside of his mouth until it bled. Even though he was so exhausted and needed to go to sleep, there was nothing I could do to get him to stay in bed. I gave up and let him just veg on the couch in the dark. I was emotionally spent and I still had to deal with his sister screaming in her highchair who witnessed all the above events. It's little wonder from where she is learning some of her bad behavior though her brother isn't solely to blame.
I have never seen Mx give my husband the nasty looks he gives me. He may be autistic but I am quite sure he has already formed a very negative opinion of me. I hate being the bad cop. I know his dad is jealous that I get to stay home all day with the kids but believe me, I am jealous that he gets to be the fun parent and the one who the kids are looking so forward to seeing every day when he comes home from work. True, RTB has been the one to issue most of the time-outs and has dealt with our kids' tantrums before, but he is not there at every meal, at every crucial battle, at the times when the children are most impossible. By the time he comes home from work, much of the heavy fighting is over.
My children are only two and four so this is far from over. Today is one of those days when I wonder if I will make it. Before I became a parent, I think I was very judgmental of the mothers who drowned their kids, or took their own lives along with their children, or did something unfathomably horrible. But ever since having kids of my own, I now understand how those women snapped, how they behaved totally out of character, how they hurt themselves and their kids without realizing it. I pray I never reach that point but sometimes I really worry. After all, how many of those women also thought they would never in a million years do something like what they did?
Meanwhile I want my son to look at me one day with loving eyes and voluntarily say "I love you" to me and mean what he is saying. It's a pipe dream. Given his autism, I don't know if he will ever understand the things I do are for his good and because I love him so much. At least with my daughter, I am counting on the fact that she may not understand now the things I do, but one day she probably will know that my actions stem out of love. As for Mx, I don't know if he will ever comprehend things on such a level and because of that, I fear that he will always see me solely as the strict grown-up who forces him to do things he doesn't want to do.