I think I can speak for most moms when I say you try your best each and everyday to care for your child physically and emotionally. But sometimes it takes being run over by a truck for you to realize when you’ve messed up, and then you walk around feeling guilty the rest of the afternoon.
Since having put our Christmas stuff up, I had to do some rearranging in the living room. We moved his toy cubbies and basket into the dining room, and Conner seemed to have adapted just fine to that. We’ve worked so hard and have now become spoiled when he ask him to clean up his toys, for he does it so well and is getting better and better everyday at staying on task.
Yesterday after lunch, I asked him to pick up his toys and put them away. He proceeded to go to the ones in the corner, sit, and play with them. After a stern warning, he didn’t move, he just continued to fiddle with them. So into time-out he went. A minute later we tried again, and he did the same thing, except he wasn’t playing, he just sat in front of them and turned to look at me. Time-out again. Third time, I got down on his level and very sternly told him to clean up his toys, but he just looked at me and began to cry. I sighed very heavily and raised my voice to tell him to clean up or he was going back into time-out. He slowly walked to the toys, sat in the floor and continued to cry. I asked him what was wrong and he pushed the toys together in the corner and kept crying. Then it hit me: that’s where his toys used to go. He thought they were put away and was confused. Talk about feeling like a horrible mother. So I went over and put the toys into his hands, I grabbed a toy, and said, “Let’s do it together,” and of course to make me feel even more guilty, he took my hand and smiled at me so big it looked like it was going to explode off his face. Once I showed him, again, where the toys go, he eagerly and happily continued putting the rest away. It’s times like this that I wish so much he could communicate with me better. Or that I would get over myself faster and be open to what he is trying to tell me.
oh amanda says:
(((hugs))) I know what you mean. They are so smart and just surprise me! But you’re not a horrible mama…if Conner needs someone to complain to about you, he can call Lydia and they can compare notes.
November 28th, 2007 at 6:54 am
Melany says:
Oh Candance. I know that feeling ALL too well. Like everyone told me on my blog yesterday … it’s not easy being a parent. You made your decision with the info you had…you didn’t mean it. HUGS
November 28th, 2007 at 6:55 am
Kim says:
Oh man, try not to beat yourself up. I hate when that happens. I suffer from horrible “mommy guilt” when this happens at my house. It’s hard to keep myself from giving them a cookie or something to make up for it! Like someone above me said, you made the best decision you could with the info you had, that’s all you can do. You’re still a great mom!
November 28th, 2007 at 7:58 am
Amy Martin says:
Oh, that’s so sad… and cute at the same time. At least you figured out what he was thinking and didn’t fly off the handle. On, and you’re no horrible mother… you’re a fantastic mom… I’ve seen it in action!
November 28th, 2007 at 8:05 am
Elizabeth (formerly devriesthree) says:
awww, ehat a little sweetheart he is.
I don’t think that’s anywhere near horrible.
November 28th, 2007 at 4:04 pm
Christie says:
That stinks. But like others said, you did what you knew to do with the info given. And you know he still loves you a whole lot.
November 28th, 2007 at 8:07 pm
Rachel says:
Hugs darling…Big Big hugs…I know what you mean, it can be so hard…
November 28th, 2007 at 10:56 pm
bee says:
I’m in the same boat. (Although, I’m eager to know how you got time out to work w/ Conner. Woggie just doesn’t seem to understand enough to stay in time out.)
Feel better to know that he’s already forgotten about the whole thing and you’re still the awesome-est Mommy he has!
November 29th, 2007 at 10:32 am
Grandma says:
You are doing a great job with him! You will have many moments like that, but he will be just fine.
I remember one afternoon, I was trying to finish the laundrey and iron some work clothes for your dad. You were totally tired of sitting in your child seat (you weren’t old enough to crawl yet) and I just wanted 10 minutes to finish my work. I crossly asked you for that, and the look on your face coupled with your “quivering chin” broke my heart. So, with laundrey in the basket, I pulled you out of your seat and let you play in the laundrey. You liked it then, I’m not so sure you like it now.
November 29th, 2007 at 6:43 pm
Amber says:
I wish I could say that I haven’t done the same thing, but I have. Don’t you hate it! And I wish I could say that this will be the last time that you and your child will misunderstand eachother, but it won’t. My 4 year old can communicate TOO well sometimes, and we still have times where we don’t completely understand where the other is coming from…and she gets in trouble for nothing. I hate that.
November 30th, 2007 at 10:56 am