Single mom here, checking in again.
Today I picked up my son, Tyler, from school at the normal time. He’s not usually a “crier” but on that day he was a little whiney and fussy although he wasn’t sick and didn’t seem tired.
Once we had gotten home, parked and I went to his side of the car, the back seat passenger’s side, I had to get off the phone with my mother because he was trying to make a quick getaway to the front seat of the car. Not quicker than I could get ahold of him and insist that we get out the car. He was upset and proceeded to hit me in my stomach!!! Whaaat??? My kid just hit me. I slapped his bottom and sternly told him that you don’t hit mommy.
Ok, we get past that one. He’s walking down the sidewalk when he informs me that he is going to ring our neighbor, Pat’s doorbell. That is fine with me… no problemo. It’s common for him to want to stop and say hello. I think Pat is flattered that my child likes her and wants to come see her. I opened our townhouse door and set down the bags I was carrying. Pat answered the door and came outside to talk. As we talked, my son went in and got his favorite toys, two balls, then comes back outside too. No problem there either. He threw the balls in the air. He gave one of the balls to Pat’s 20 something year old autistic son. Somewhere around then, Tyler noticed Pat and Frankie’s bikes and decides to go get his bike too. No problem. He got his batman themed big wheel, carried it down two stairs, placed it on the ground, then sets out riding down the sidewalk. When he got to where the sidewalk meets the parking lot, I yell to him to come back this way. My kid looked at me and kept on going. Whaaattt? I watched him go between the cars, then he was out of sight. At that point, I set out quickly following him. When I got beyond the parked cars, my kid was a good 50 feet away. I let out what I thought was an authoritative yell to him, “Tyler, get back here NOW!” but he just turned, looked at me and kept going. OMG! I went to run after him, then remembered that my front door was wide open. I asked Pat to follow him for a second while I went to shut my door. In the few seconds it took me to go to the door and come back, my kid had pushed the bike to the top of the hill at the end of the development, zoomed down, and it appeared as though he was just going to keep going for a ride around the rest of the neighborhood. Thank God for the kids that were playing basketball in the street. Pat who had followed him barefoot, yelled to them and they stopped him. If they weren’t there I would have had to sprint after him and, let me tell ya, I am in the worst shape I have ever been in in my entire life. Over weight and in no condition to sprint for more than a block or so. When I got to him, he ‘got it’, probably worse than he has ever ‘gotten it’ in his short life. I also yelled and screamed like I usually try not to do. He was crying his eyes out as he rode home with me walking behind him, and every now and then, giving him a push to keep him going as I continued my rant. “you can’t just ride off on your own!”; “you heard me tell you to come back!”; “GO HOME…. NOW!”; “keep riding!”. My adrenaline was running high and I was wound UP! He was wound up too. When we got to the door, I had to pick him up off that bike and place him in the living room floor before I could get the big wheel in the door. As he sat in that same spot crying his eyes out, I sat on the couch huffin’ mad thinking about how he could have gotten run over by a car or taken by some pedophile. A few minutes went by before he spoke though the tears, “mommy. my nose is running”. I told him to get a napkin off of the table that was right behind him. He had nerve to tell me, “you get it!”. Whaaatttt??? I told him, “noooo, you get it”. He doesn’t talk all that well but proceeded to try to tell me off! He emotionally stated, mumble mumble mumble AND I’M ONLY THREE mumble mumble mumble, as he motioned with three fingers. I halfway wanted to laugh. If I wasn’t so mad I might have. He has some nerve. That got me started on a new rant. I told him, yeah your only three and that’s why you can’t just ride off on your bike without mommy and not come back when I tell you to. He cried even more. Normally, when I’m not so mad, I hate to hear him cry because it means he is hurting. Normally, I’d hug him up and love him up and tell him “mommy’s here”, and it’s OK. But it wasn’t OK. After a few more minutes had passed he finally moved from the spot he had been frozen in. He came over to me. I picked him up and sat him on my leg. He told me, “Tyler’s sad and mommy’s happy and it’s not right”. He also told me that I had hurt his butt. A three-year old talking about it’s not right. I told him mommy is NOT happy, mommy is mad. And I hurt his but because he did something really bad. I, now in a calmer tone, explained to him that it was really bad for him to ride off without me and to disobey my instruction. Of course I instructed him to never do that again. When I finished, he said, “sorry mommy”. With that we hugged and made up. I was glad that we talked about it, that he was able to express himself and understand what I was explaining.
When bedtime came, once again, very uncharacteristic of him, Tyler cried and fussed. Geeezzz. I wondered who that bad kid was because he wasn’t my normally well-mannered child. My only rationale was that it was a full moon that night because when we woke up in the morning, my loving, wonderful kid had returned!
Tags: Child, Children, Family, mom, Mother, Parenting, single mom
Single mom vs. life 