The Not-So Pretty Things

A friend of mine who I often consider "the male me" challenged me yesterday. We were chatting and he mentioned that he's noticed I only blog about "the pretty things." He was referring to the fact that our family missed a playdate with some friends (including him) due to my son's behavior on Sunday and that I mentioned it nowhere on my blog.

He's right. But, as I remarked to him, I don't enjoy writing about those episodes as much as I do the nice things that I want to remember for the long haul. Also, I give my readers credit for understanding that, although most of my entries about my son are touching or funny, certainly it is understood that raising a child is never without its trials.

But, the more I thought about it, it hit me that my Mom died a few years ago (before I became a parent) and I would give anything to know how I acted at my son's age and how she dealt with it. So, I hereby title this post the "Not-So-Pretty Things" post. In fact, it may become it's own category. Lawd knows I'd have enough to talk about.

Really the first not-so-pretty-thing I can remember came shortly after we brought our son home from Russia (we adopted him in May 2004). Does it count if it's sorta funny in RETROspect but not so much at the time? (which may be my friend's argument anyway--darn-it-all.)

Anyhoo, I was cleaning the kitchen and heard this loud "ka-thunk-ka-thunk-ka-thunk-KA-BOOM" and raced into the living room. It was then I discovered the tail end of a wooden rocking horse sticking out of the wall at the base of the staircase. Surveying the plaster pieces spilled out onto the floor, I looked up to find my two-year old son standing there, at the top of the stairs, eyes big as saucers and frozen at the sight of the destruction. He then turned to me and said (a new English phrase he picked up quickly)..."uh oh." He had pushed the horse down the stairs and, as relieved that I was he wasn't RIDING the horse at the time, he learned real quick the meaning of timeout.

The next was a few months later when he opened a bottle of red nail polish and emptied it in the middle of my champagne-colored living room carpet. I almost flipped my lid. But, I will tell ya that to get nail polish out of carpet, mix non-acetone nail polish remover with dry laundry detergent...make a paste and rub it in, the stain comes out. See! In sharing the yucky stuff I am able to impart my enlightening domestic tips as well. This may be a win-win afterall. (hee hee)

In the three years we've had him there have been many a time that I have prayed for patience (I know--it's the kiss of death) as well as relied on the advice and guidance of friends about how to deal with everything from tantrums to how he relates to other kids, etc. It's all one big learning process, you know?

Let's fast forward to Sunday, shall we? I am now raising a five year old that I'm pretty certain has a secret copy of my "hot button" manual and reads it in bed...at night...with a little flashlight. He also knows just enough back talk to get himself in a whole heapa trouble. On Sunday, he got mad because he didn't want to get some rest (that's code word for nap) after lunch. He was tired and I could tell he needed to chill out before our big play date that evening. He smarted off and yelled "fine!" as he went up the stairs and slammed the door. It went downhill from there. Keith went to have a discussion with him and, suffice it to say, calling your Dad a loser for getting on to you is not the best plan.

Because of his behavior (there was more smarting off that followed), Keith made the decision that we should stay home from the playdate. We both really wanted to go and see our friends but realized that parenthood involves sacrifices on many levels. So, we didn't go. And Daniel learned a valuable lesson that it's best to not use hurtful words just because he's angry.

Through it all I have learned that, although parenthood is most definitely a series of ups and downs, searching for answers, and trying different approaches to see what works, it is, bar none, the best job in the world.

(see, I can still end it sappy if I wanna) :-)