Epicly Bad Parenting Day

I am not going to include all the details of my day because it would probably be interesting to only a handful of people, and since Scott and my mom already know the details, that eliminates most people it would be interesting to.  But let's just say, if I was feeling good about how I was doing as a mom, today put me in my place.

John is hard lately.  So much disobedience.  So. much.  And he runs from me, and he is openly defiant, and I have to have talks with myself multiple times a day about how I have to fight these battles; I can't give in because it's easier.  But today topped them all.

Let's just say it was full from top to bottom of spankings, time outs, pinches, tears from both of us, him running around the house away from me while I waited for a good time to catch him and spank him, him running from me down a sidewalk, him running from me in Staples, him taking multiple things from Ada just to be difficult, and I could go on and on and on and on...

at one point I called my mom in tears because I was at my absolute wit's end, and, clearly, I was doing it all wrong.

Well, the talk helped me to gain some perspective, but the day didn't really get any better.  I am trusting that there is some sort of long term affect happening, and if I keep spanking and time outing and lovingly disciplining, that there will eventually be progress?!  Maybe?!! 

All of this to say that by 6:00 pm, I was over it.  I wanted to put in my two weeks notice and quit motherhood all together.  At about that time, I got an email from Scott that not only was he not on his way home yet, he was walking into his boss's office, so who knows when he would be home.  While I was reading that bad news, John (who was sitting on the potty), yelled in distress, "my flashlight!!"  Okay, I apologize for the crudeness, but I went into the bathroom to find that John had dropped a little flashlight that he plays with into a toilet full of, well, poop.  As we both stared into the toilet, tears began to stream down my face.  I wasn't fully rational at this point, and obviously in the big scheme of things, this wasn't a tragedy, but all I could think was, "why did you let this happen to me, God?!!!"  But, I bent my largely pregnant, very sensitive gag reflex self, down onto the bathroom floor, I had Ada get me a wooden spoon (which John immediately thought was for punishing him, based on the way of the rest of the day had gone), and I fished that flashlight out.  At that point, I threw away both the flashlight and the wooden spoon.  In the mean time, John has burst into tears because I am throwing away the flashlight.

It was so bad. 

But, God is gracious.  And at the end of this very, very, very bad day, John sat at the dinner table and ate all of his chicken and four very large bites of rice.  I really wanted to get up and dance in relief.  I won't say for the five millionth time that John doesn't ever eat.  But just trust me when I say he doesn't eat.  In the mean time, he stays so short while everyone around him keeps outgrowing him, and I can't help but worry about it.  This is just one thing on the long list of things that have been hard with John lately.  So, for John to willingly sit at the table, and then cheerfully announce, "I like chicken!!"  (which was news to me) and proceed to eat every bite of his chicken, well it was nothing short of a miracle.  And as for dessert he had milk mixed with carnation breakfast essentials, his favorite thing in the world.  It is his diet coke, bless him.  Who knows if he will ever eat chicken again, or rice for that matter, but tonight, he did.  And top that off with a full glass of milk mixed with the instant breakfast, and I end the day knowing he had a decent amount of calories. 

He also ended the night with more disobedience and more tears.  I finally climbed into bed with him, hugging him, trying to have a small moment of redemption, and he said, "I'm tired, mommy," in other words, "leave me alone..."

Tonight I am thankful that tomorrow is a new day.  Always a new day.