Failure in Mommydom

So… I had a rough day yesterday. Ok, let’s be honest, I’ll say it’s been rough lately, most of the last couple of months and definitely since Sunday night.

I’ll admit it. I made a Mommy Mistake. When Weston was a baby, we were so grateful to have him. (Don’t worry, we still are.) And he was sick a lot that first year. Nothing serious, but he had Bronchiolitis and a variety of viruses…. When he had to sleep upright, we put him in a car seat by my side of the bed so I could listen to him breathe. Sometimes he slept with us when he was sick so we could sleep too. (The sheer exhaustion of parenting is a white lie no one talks about. I have been tired for 4 years now, ever since I got pregnant. It hasn’t gotten better.) When he was healthy, and he’d wake up in the morning, we’d bring him into our bed. And we’d cuddle and play. We wouldn’t always go back to sleep, we’d have fun. So, Weston got used to being in our bed – 1^st part of the Big Mistake.

The 2^nd part of said Mistake was not instituting a bedtime. Weston was one of those babies who was awake every 3 hours to eat. It was routine and didn’t change much as he got older. My friend’s baby who was sleeping through the night by 3 months with a bedtime of 8 pm that started at 3wks, no problems. That never happened for us. I kept asking our daycare when we should start a bedtime. She said 6-9 months depending on the baby. That was 3 years ago next week. And I tried. I decided on 8:30 pm. The first week, Weston was asleep by 8:15 every single night. In my arms. No self-soothing in the bed. The next week, he cried and cried and cried. I’d lay him down and he’d scream. After 15 minutes, we’d go in and try to help. After a days of this, I asked daycare again what to do. She said not to talk to him or pick him up – to rub his back and sit by the crib. And he would cry forever! It was horrible and heartbreaking to hear. And inevitably, we’d pick him up. And the bedtime never worked. And it was my fault. Scott works late, sometimes past 9pm. I was alone in the bedtime rituals as I am in the dinners, and pretty much most other things. So… as time goes by, we moved into a craptastic apartment on Des Moines’ NE side. Weston again had his own room. He would fall asleep in our room, and we would move him to his crib at night. About 2 or so months after moving there, we transitioned his crib into the toddler bed, because he was trying to climb out. And every night since, Weston has gotten out of his bed, and climbed into ours. And for the longest time, I would try to walk him back to his bed. And he would cry and come back. And then we’d wait for him to be asleep for about 10 minutes, and then we’d take him back to his bed. And about 6 out of 7 nights, I’d wake up in the morning to find him right next to me. At some point, we just became too tired to move him. Or he comes in, and I don’t even wake up any more. He crawls over me to the middle of the bed and I have no idea he is there until morning. I hate sleeping with a toddler. He’s more than half my height now. So there are legs everywhere! Knees planted in the middle of my back. Arms flung over me like I’m his latest favorite stuffed animal. And Scott’s a bed-hog too. So Scott has his half of the bed, and 75% of the covers, and Weston is trying to take my half of the bed. It’s no wonder that I am exhausted and not sleeping well. All I want is my own bed. And I will never have it. I am trying to figure out a way to get Weston to sleep in his own room. I am thinking of trying out his Twin bed in the room we decorated for his birthday. I wonder what he’d think if I slept in there? So, to wrap the Mistakes up… It’s my fault that Weston doesn’t have a bedtime, and it’s also probably my fault that I do not get up constantly to put him back in his own bed. So, now I need to find a way to remedy this…. Sunday I had knees in my back the whole night. Wednesday he wouldn’t go to sleep. He cried because I wouldn’t turn the tv on. And all Scott said was that he needed to be quiet because people were sleeping. Yeah, Scott was sleeping and had been for over an hour – when it was his job to get Weston to sleep that night. Weston and I made up stories to get him to stop crying, and then until he was ready to fall asleep (in my bed.) I calmed him down and got him to sleep in about 20 minutes. And I wonder why I feel all the burden and responsibility for his behavior and actions? Hmmm…

Weston is not potty trained.

I take that back, partially. He is potty trained at daycare. He’s had maybe 2 real accidents in the last 8 months, and maybe 2 other random “I peed on my clothes while peeing” accidents. It’s a boy thing, trust me. Once, about a month ago, I thought we were in for the home stretch. He woke up and went potty in my potty! Before school, no problems, we were all so very excited. He got to pick a prize (Yes, I am to bribery now) and he took a whole big package of name-brand Goldfish to daycare to share with his friends for snack time. And then he got sick over the weekend… so all training went out the window. I decided to be firm last night. I picked him up from daycare. He was in Big Boy underpants. We went to the chiropractor. He begged me for a pull-up or a diaper. I said no. I held firm. We went to the bathroom. He wouldn’t go. I tried going in front of him. He didn’t care. I held firm, we left the bathroom. 20 minutes of begging ended in crying. Horrible, gut-wrenching crying and screaming and sobbing - it was torture for me. I was sad that he was crying and embarrassed because I knew there were massage therapists trying to invoke peace and relaxation and my son was ruining it. I was angry at him for not making this an easy and simple experience. He does it so easily at school. The pure exhaustion of the week, and then dealing with the potty training… I was so mad yesterday. At the situation, at Weston for never listening, at Scott for not helping with the important stuff but having the nerve to want another baby, at the world and everyone in front of me for being there. I cried from the chiropractor’s office to the mall because of my guilt over my anger at my little boy. I almost cried trying to explain it to Shannon in the Playground at the mall. No one understands around me, and I feel like anytime I say anything, I am just being a nagging bitch. Scott won’t listen when I try to talk to him. It’s like if he doesn’t hear it, then it doesn’t exist. And I hate living in oblivion.

I have to get going… but still, I just had to explain myself. I feel guilty all the time for my frustration, anger, and the inability to change things. I feel like my world is spinning out of control, and that I am failing at everything. And I need someone to catch me. To help me. Please? I love my little family more than anything, but I feel like we need to be a better family. And I'm not sure how to do it.