Our Battle as parents

So I was sitting there the other day looking into my baby boy Patrick's beautiful blue eyes. Watching him smile for no reason as he often does and I felt so happy. So full of bliss and joy. Those feelings slowly turned to anger and resentment as my other son Brendan decided to start his usual bit of acting like an jerk. Yes. I said it. My son can be a jerk. I love him. I truly do. But he can be such a jerk that when I look at pictures of him when he was a baby, sometimes I almost see a completely different kid. I find it difficult to remember how awesome it was to have such a good little bub. I forget when he was my sweet little Brendan. He was an amazing baby. Came out of the hospital eating every 4 hrs. I slept great. He went right into his crib. Chilled out anywhere you put him for hours. Napped great during the day, and by 2 mths, all night. He was so curious and cute and LOVED to cuddle. He would sit on mine or my husband's lap for hours. He would even sit all in the nook of my arm and lay on my chest and watch TV so I could nod off from time to time if I was extra tired that day. He wouldn't even move. Sometimes he'd fall asleep on me and I could see his beautiful eye lashes. And I would think about how much more he's brought into my life. Because he has. 

But things all went downhill when he was 2 and it was time for us to move. 

The idea of moving into a bigger more beautiful and new house was so awesome. Who wouldn't be grateful for that?. But the stress of taking care of 2 little ones full time on top of trying to pack a house to move was to say the least, very high. I also didn't know at the time that I have BiPolar 2 disorder and I had come off the antidepressant that I had taken to avoid Postpartum depression and thought I felt fine. And for the most part I was. But then he started to take things out of boxes after I packed them. I couldn't very well seal the box until it was full and that took time. But it was nonstop. And if he wasn't taking things out of the boxes, he was climbing on top of them. I even have a picture of him sitting on top of 3 huge moving boxes. So high he could touch the ceiling. I took a picture because it's kind of funny but all I could think about was how if he had fallen it would be my fault. And that made me feel aggravated. I was frustrated about having to stop to break up an argument over a toy, to dress the kids, feed them, clean them, change diapers(both were in diapers at the time), watch them, mend a wound(or 2), clean up, do laundry, cook, dishes, bathe them, and put them to bed. And as every parent can attest, there is much more included even within all of those tasks. Far from a small job kids. Add on packing an entire house full of stuff, well I lost it a lot. And I yelled a lot too. At Regan too, but mostly at Brendan. And very very loud. I even scared myself sometimes. I made myself sick thinking about this poor little 2 yr old boy who is simply doing what his age appropriate brain told him he was supposed to do. There were days during this time where I had to lock myself in the bathroom and have my cry out. I felt like a terrible mother. As I'm sure we all have at some point. But for me this time was different. Because I knew the effect it could have on him and I continued to get upset. I didn't know any other way. It was just a very stressful time for all of us.

But these days when he's not acting like a total Jerk, not talking back with that diva attitude that he so aptly loves to share. Or when he's not arguing with me for the 1000th time about how he wants something right now and will not take no for an answer, or he's not taking a temper tantrum because he can't or won't put his shoes/coat etc on by himself or cannot zip it up...well, he is kind. He is sweet, and endearing. He'll do something nice for his sister, and say how he wants to be a bucket filler. When he's not ignoring my husband and I completely while we are simply trying to ask him about school, or press how we have to leave right now, he makes us laugh with his wit and his humor and then says he loves us. In those moments, when he's giving me the sly smile, I see that baby. I see that sweet, cuddly little baby boy that I once knew and still know. I see that even though I made mistakes(as we all do every day), all the good things I've done, and the good lessons I've tried so hard to teach him do resonate. It makes me understand that he has bad days just like the rest of us. He can't be a perfect child, but a child doing the things that kids his age are doing. And that hey, I can be a Jerk too! And so can Regan, and my husband. Maybe even you! HA!We ALL make mistakes. We ALL do and say things we wished we hadn't.

In my opinion if at the end of the day even after our attitudes, mood shifts, stresses, and responsibilities we can still love each other. If we love too in the midst of anger and chaos, and our kids love us back after all of that. Well then I think we've done a great job. Don't you?

I Love you buddy <3