excited to get honest
Posted: March 15th, 2014, 9:01 pm
hi. i'm a 37 year old mom slash doula slash cook slash blogger slash slash. i'm kind of known in my community as a crunchy mama and can't really be honest with many about how i really feel about being a mother so having somewhere to be anonymous feels liberating. and of course now i don't know what to say. and probably no one will read this. so.
i feel like i'm fucking up my kid. i feel like maybe my kid is fucked up and it's my fault. he's three and has physical aggression challenges. it's his thing to hit when he's mad. i honestly don't think anything is wrong or abnormal, but his rage scares the shit out of me and is kind of my worst nightmare, AND i see myself sometimes reacting to his rage WITH rage, and the shame i feel afterward is like nothing i've experienced.
example. when he's hitting or kicking or biting me, i let him know that i'm not going to let him hurt me, and that i am going to hold his body until he's ready to keep my body safe. this is a tactic i feel good about and works WAY better than a time out, but sometimes when i do this when i'm triggered and not in a neutral place, i'm grabbing him, pulling him to me with clenched teeth, saying the "right" words but on the inside i want to squeeze him like a tube of toothpaste until he disappears. the kid has got to feel that seething energy. ugh.
i have support. i have a wonderful mentor who knows me and my son and is a professional with 30 years of experience. i trust her. i listen to hear and use her tools daily, but i feel like 10-20% of the time, i just come at my kid with my crap whether it's raising my voice or the "arm grab." it's hard when you're kid is so strong and so physical. we don't deal with whining or pouting in our house. when he's pissed, he's either throwing a hard object or his body. the good news is it's over quickly. the bad news is this makes play dates and the park a fresh Hell. every time we go, i have full blown anxiety the ENTIRE time. waiting for him to hit. waiting for him to spit in someone's face or tackle someone or bonk a baby in the head. i've made it my life's work to never bother anyone and my child, it seems, was born to push limits and kinda doesn't give a fuck.
he's what i was terrified of as a kid. i was bullied. now i'm hope hope hoping that my hard work and attachment parenting and compassionate communication will prevent this from happening, but so far my theory of aggressive children coming from broken homes, or from children who aren't parented or are raised by nannies is being thrown in my face. cuz i'm home with him. had a home birth. exclusively breastfed. organic food. no sugar. no gluten. clear boundaries. no punishment or reward and look what i've got. he is who he is. and it is wonderful. and sometimes terrifying.
ps i live in LA and hate it. i love my life and hate this city. i hate the sun. i've been trying to leave for fourteen years and only manage to feel more stuck.
i'm married to a great guy who i'm not physically attracted to. i'm still in love with my high school boyfriend. i would like to sleep with a woman.
i've had anorexia and bulimia since i was six, in some form or another. i'm way better now than i've ever been and i'm still crazy with it. counting calories, "earning" my food, ritual foods. and food obsession. i would MUCH rather eat than fuck. like, by 1,000%. i don't care about sex at all. i would like to cheat on my husband, but don't care about sex. i want love letters and slow dancing and kissing only.
my dad molested me when i was 14. and there was the gym teacher. and the art teacher. and the date rape. and the other date rape. so that explains the low sex drive.
i'm positive no one has read this to the end. if you have, we should talk! xoxo
i feel like i'm fucking up my kid. i feel like maybe my kid is fucked up and it's my fault. he's three and has physical aggression challenges. it's his thing to hit when he's mad. i honestly don't think anything is wrong or abnormal, but his rage scares the shit out of me and is kind of my worst nightmare, AND i see myself sometimes reacting to his rage WITH rage, and the shame i feel afterward is like nothing i've experienced.
example. when he's hitting or kicking or biting me, i let him know that i'm not going to let him hurt me, and that i am going to hold his body until he's ready to keep my body safe. this is a tactic i feel good about and works WAY better than a time out, but sometimes when i do this when i'm triggered and not in a neutral place, i'm grabbing him, pulling him to me with clenched teeth, saying the "right" words but on the inside i want to squeeze him like a tube of toothpaste until he disappears. the kid has got to feel that seething energy. ugh.
i have support. i have a wonderful mentor who knows me and my son and is a professional with 30 years of experience. i trust her. i listen to hear and use her tools daily, but i feel like 10-20% of the time, i just come at my kid with my crap whether it's raising my voice or the "arm grab." it's hard when you're kid is so strong and so physical. we don't deal with whining or pouting in our house. when he's pissed, he's either throwing a hard object or his body. the good news is it's over quickly. the bad news is this makes play dates and the park a fresh Hell. every time we go, i have full blown anxiety the ENTIRE time. waiting for him to hit. waiting for him to spit in someone's face or tackle someone or bonk a baby in the head. i've made it my life's work to never bother anyone and my child, it seems, was born to push limits and kinda doesn't give a fuck.
he's what i was terrified of as a kid. i was bullied. now i'm hope hope hoping that my hard work and attachment parenting and compassionate communication will prevent this from happening, but so far my theory of aggressive children coming from broken homes, or from children who aren't parented or are raised by nannies is being thrown in my face. cuz i'm home with him. had a home birth. exclusively breastfed. organic food. no sugar. no gluten. clear boundaries. no punishment or reward and look what i've got. he is who he is. and it is wonderful. and sometimes terrifying.
ps i live in LA and hate it. i love my life and hate this city. i hate the sun. i've been trying to leave for fourteen years and only manage to feel more stuck.
i'm married to a great guy who i'm not physically attracted to. i'm still in love with my high school boyfriend. i would like to sleep with a woman.
i've had anorexia and bulimia since i was six, in some form or another. i'm way better now than i've ever been and i'm still crazy with it. counting calories, "earning" my food, ritual foods. and food obsession. i would MUCH rather eat than fuck. like, by 1,000%. i don't care about sex at all. i would like to cheat on my husband, but don't care about sex. i want love letters and slow dancing and kissing only.
my dad molested me when i was 14. and there was the gym teacher. and the art teacher. and the date rape. and the other date rape. so that explains the low sex drive.
i'm positive no one has read this to the end. if you have, we should talk! xoxo