Am I an unfit parent?
I ask this question after loosing my temper and shouting at my five or three year old. They always have startled looks on their faces that make me shrivel inside.
The other morning I was woken at 5:30AM by the Speedbump (aka the oldest) holding the door closed on my Big Mac (aka the middlest). Mac was slamming his fists against the door, Bump was smiling like an imp and holding fast. After sorting out their disagreement (who would get to go to the bathroom first) I proceeded to make them breakfast.
The brother's constantly push each other's buttons. Mac will disagree with his brother over the color of a crayon, or say his brother is a "gum-gum" and Bump will get frustrated and scream "he's saying things I don't want him to say."
This mind-numbing back and forth was happening at 5:30AM. The coffee wasn't ready yet, so there was nothing to dull the pain, I snapped after I told them to hug and makeup and Bump gave a sly little smile and refused.
"GET TO TIME OUT, YOU WILL NOT GO TO YOUR PAW-PAW AND SUNSHINE'S ACTING THIS WAY!!"
Taking away grandparent time was like launching a nuke. Immediate tears, but no remorse. This is what gets to me, this interaction. I'm an adult, I should know how to handle this better... right? Is it effective if it's just this punitive action that breaks them down? Is that what I'm looking for?
I fear failure with my kids more than anything. I fear the eventual apathy that greets my daily homecoming. I dread the incensed obedience where they do what I ask, just so they can leave the room I'm in and play on a phone.
I act, but I question my actions at every turn as a parent. I don't remember uncertainty from my Dad growing up, I remember occasional regret, but not uncertainty. He was always certain that he was doing the right thing.
A third kid has made things so much harder. Neither parent is getting very much sleep, we have so little time to just decompress now. Newborns are a bundle of excruciatingly boring tasks. I resent those commercials with the mother rocking a baby to sleep, and it's so sweet, and lovely, and so big of a lie. Spending 45 minutes rocking a kid, then having them cry, fart, and spit out their pacifier the second you lay them down will make you want to take sleeping pills with hard liquor.
Is there anything harder than parenthood? Does anyone get to the other side and think "oh yeah I nailed it!!!"
