Coolness Returned

I lost my cool today, bigtime. Over something totally minor and crazy. Cameron had been antsy – not quite sick enough to stay home, but still enough that he wouldn’t be welcome at his daycare. Cabin fever had set in for both of us, he couldn’t do anything for more than three breaths at a time without moving on to something else, throwing whatever he had in his hands, or crying. I decided that I’d chance a trip to work with him, more to get us out of the house than to get much done in the office. Trouble was, I didn’t feel like packing a suitcase for my little love who has totally regressed on the pee side of potty training. Did I mention, five pairs of pants yesterday? So today was all about the regular pee breaks.

Why did I lose it? I found myself determinedly holding one tot on the pot while he screamed and squirmed so bad that even had he started to go pee, very little would’ve made it into the toilet. I knew he had to go pee, it’d been two hours and he had downed a litre of water and juice (not quite, but it seemed like it). It was very clear to me that he was just being stubborn and refusing to let loose simply because Mommy wanted him to. I gave up, and plunked him, pants only half-heartedly pulled up, in his room and stormed off to the kitchen, where I screamed at the top of my lungs and banged around in a tantrum of my own. All because I’m tired of doing so much laundry, tired of wiping up pee, and tired of remembering that before Christmas he was bone-dry even at night.

Calmed down, and feeling foolish because I know the tricks to get him to go pee, I went back and worked some magic. Pee. Yay. Let’s go. I was calm, but still grumbly and grouchy with zero patience.

Two blocks passed without us saying much. It slowly dawned on me just how childishly I had behaved, and so I stopped, and crouched down eye-to-eye with Cameron. “I really lost my cool there Cameron. I shouldn’t have. I’m really sorry, sweetheart,” I apologized.

His eyes slid away from mine, and I thought, oh grand, no wonder my kid won’t make eye contact with me, I’m a horrible mother. Those blue eyes darted about for a moment, and he reached out his hand in a grabbing motion, with a, “Unh! Ooohhhhh.” Whatever it was that he had ‘caught’ was smeared over my bewildered expression.

“I caught it! I give you your cool back!”


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