I’m not sure I’ve ever written mid-chaos, but if I don’t get these words out right now, I’m going to break something, or smash something.
Stephen won’t stop asking for “something to EAT,” and I am finishing the journey toward madness trying to convince him that “something to EAT” isn’t a place or a special kind of food.
I have pleaded and cajoled. I brought him Burger King for lunch – “Look – something to eat from Burger King!” Then we went a few more rounds, and I took him to the grocery store, the whole time saying, “All these things are foods we eat.”
He doesn’t get it. The simple, basic concept of what this phrase means escapes him, and he cries and hits and looks bewildered, and I am going nuts here.
Just now? I grabbed his hand, took him into the kitchen, and threw the door of the freezer open. I pulled out garlic bread: “This is to EAT.” Tater tots: “To EAT.” Hot dogs: “To EAT.” I spun over to the pantry, yanked the door open. Went through the same routine with foods in there. When I paused to take a breath…”something to EAT?” I hit a shelf so hard I broke the skin on my arm. The frustration has reached epic proportions and I am clueless. Powerless.
Damn it all to hell.
Those steps aren’t looking all that helpful now, are they? I’m powerless. And where’s my Higher Power? Not stepping in to help me?
I just don’t see how to keep going. I marched him down the hall, shut the door to his room, and left. I couldn’t take it anymore. He’ll come out, and I bet I know what he says next.
5 comments:
Hi! I hope you're having a fantastic Mother's Day. Mine has consisted of laundry, dishes, and a french fry run to In-N-Out for Bennett. Kind of just like any other Sunday.
I couldn't help but let out an involuntary commiserating laugh when I started reading this post because those words could have been lifted out of my very own journal. On a more serious note, I could see the frustration leaping from screen and have had many such days. I hope today has been better.
Also, I submitted a comment yesterday after reading this post and it hasn't appeared. I know you moderate the content (and I don't blame you as I would do the same thing!) so I'm hoping I didn't offend you in some way. It's also entirely possible that you haven't even looked or my computer went haywire or something. It didn't help that I had a 4 year old crawling all over me as I was trying to compose a marginally coherent response!
Happy Mother's Day!
Ugh. I'm so lame. Just posted under the "Kira" profile I'm trying to ditch! I need to figure out how to delete that thing. Sorry!
Hey Karen, I didn't see any other comments...not sure what happened. But I assure you that you couldn't offend me, so no worries there.
I'm sure you have had many such days...
Today wasn't a lot better, at least at first. It ended okay. Now I just want to crash.
To update...
Mothers Day was so-so. Less than ideal even though 2/3 guys in my house gave it the old college try. A visit from my parents that wasn't one of the good ones kind of brought the day down a bit. More on that later, maybe.
As always, with Monday comes school and a sort of reprieve. Creeping into my consciousness is a ticking time bomb that will signal the end of the school year.
Oh Lord.
Okay, I just had an experience similar to the frustration of the repetitive "something to eat", only in my case *I* was constantly repeating something: "There is no sausage. There is NO SAUSAGE. THERE IS NO SAUSAGE!"
Bennett's on a GFCF diet, as I might have mentioned, and one of his weekly dinners is rice pasta, marinara sauce, and grilled sausage. Well, tonight we had no sausage. I explained to him as he sat down to eat that there was no sausage tonight.
He knew what I meant because he briefly looked at me with a glimmer of understanding and immediately starting digging around in the bowl looking for sausage. Said digging was sending the penne all over the table and the floor, and no matter how many times I said "there is no sausage" he kept going, almost as if he expected it to materialize if he just kept looking.
I finally snapped and retrieved a wide, shallow casserole dish from the kitchen and put what was left of his pasta in that dish so that he could SEE that there was no damn sausage. Then of course we have the subsequent meltdown. Sorry kiddo, it can't always be the same, and when the store runs out of sausage, they run out of sausage and so do we.
A simple concept for many kids, but not around here.
Thanks for responding to my concerns in the earlier comments. My wireless internet isn't always reliable so perhaps that was the issue.
I too felt the relief of Monday. It was a loooong weekend.
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