Thank God for my loving husband, who has been taking care of us this holiday season. With two sick kids and a sick wife, he has been our rock.
He is literally the last man standing in this house filled with sickies.
If that weren’t enough he has been running all the errands and doing the last minute Christmas shopping. My wonderful husband took care of the kids this morning and let me sleep in, until 11am !!!
I love you so much and thanks again.
The only thing worse than fighting traffic to get my kids to swimming lessons, is getting there late. Only to discover a dearth of parking, when I finally managed to find a spot it was almost at the end of the lot.
We get out of the car and run to the building, only to have my son blow chunks in the locker room. If motherhood is some type of a test, this morning definitely requires a retake.
Yesterday I was getting dressed and my son looked at me and said “Mommy your stomach is enormous”. I shrugged it off and told my son it’s not nice to say things that like that.
A few minutes later he said it again. He kept repeating it and it was starting to make me feel bad. Sure I’m not as skinny as I used to be, but cut me some slack. I’m a thirty-five year old woman who has had two kids.
After fifteen minutes of listening to my two and a half year old’s disparaging remarks, I snapped! I got really angry and yelled at him. I told him to knock it off because he was hurting my feelings.
My son ran out the room and started to cry. A few minutes later he apologized and gave me a big hug. Later that morning he started up again. “Mommy you have a big tummy”
I asked why he kept saying that, especially since I told him it hurts my feelings. My son looked up at me with his big brown eyes, what he said made me feel like the worst mother in the world.
“All Mommies have enormous tummies, that’s where the babies live”
I gave my son the biggest hug and told him that I loved him, it was all I could do to keep from crying. He wasn’t saying that I was fat. I was projecting my insecurities on to my son. At age two he had no concept of weight or body image. In all honesty, he really didn’t understand what he was saying.
In his mind he was simply stating a fact, there was no malice behind it. I am ashamed to admit that I made my child cry because of my own issues.
In that moment my two year old behaved with more maturity than me. What my son said may have hurt my feelings, but I was the one who acted like a jerk.