In more ways than one.
I really, really, badly need a shower. My hair and face are oily and it's been 2 days. The baby peed all over me this morning and I only had time to change, not wash, and then there's spit up... And I'm just tired and could really, really use a refreshing shower to wash away the gunk, external and internal.
Pax's violence has resurfaced.
And I have no idea what to do about it.
You know what worked to curb it last time? Hitting back. No, I'm serious. We tried so, so much but finally it came down to "if you hit me, I will hit your hand right back." And parenting expert snobs be damned, it worked. But I'm not exactly a fan of that and I'd like to never walk that path again, thank you very much, even if it makes me equally snobby. I'd prefer to use words with my big boy, and visuals and calming actions or even redirection.
But I'm just so damn head-tired.
I can't handle another year like that one we experienced with P, where he was constantly, CONSTANTLY beating on me. And no one would listen...
Nik would go to work and P'd be kicking my legs and if I picked him up (one can only resist for so long) he'd be puching my eyes and neck, head butting me all over, biting my nose and trying to rip it off, scratching and pinching and, well... you get the picture. I even remember one day when I just couldn't take it anymore and I was just balled up in a corner crying my eyes out while he beat me as hard and as fiercely as he could over my head, neck and shoulders.
And yes I get that he was very small and I was very big and I should just "be the parent" and magically make it stop.
And I did.
By hitting back.
Granted, with warning, rather sparsely and much lighter than he hit me.
And it stopped and it's been stopped for a looooooooong time now.
At this point we thought it was over.
And granted... it may be, in a sense. The reasons he was hitting the first time (orphanage behavior, terrible two's, adjustment) are behind us. And many 4 year olds hit and many new big brothers regress, and really it's not even close to constant, just a few small sporadic moments that end with "I'm sorry" and kisses and "I love you very much" and a promise to not do it again after going over what hands are really for.
But I'm scared.
I hate to admit it but I'm damn near petrified.
And this is the reason I don't think we'll ever follow through with that dream of adopting more older children. I'm a wuss and I freely admit it. But while what he's doing now can be classified as "actually pretty normal" it reminds me too much of that year of hardship that we journeyed alone.
And I'm scared, for him and for me and for other kids because what if this isn't just a temporary regression? And what if it continues and I can't find another way to stem it off besides physical discipline?
I just have to keep repeating to myself "we've come so far" and "this too shall pass" but somedays....
Somedays I just need a break, dammit.
Or a shower.
Yeah, a shower would be great right about now (and since I missed my chance this morning it looks like I might have to wait until tomorrow morning...)
Lily in a loafing barn
2 days ago