Sunday, August 6, 2006

Just Like a Woman

Hormones, hormons, hormones. I am sick and freakin' tired of hormones.

Of course, hormones are my excuse. Maybe I'm just a bitch. Either way, I am sick of feeling this way. Crying every 15 minutes. Feeling like I am constantly fighting with my child. Feeling guilty for fighting with him. Being angry at my child because of his behavior. Feeling guilty because I'm angry and guilty because somehow I've made him this way. Second-guessing every parenting decision I make. Feeling utterly useless and unable to feel like I am in control.

At this point, I really don't know if it's him or it's me. My perception is that he's defiant. He talks back. He argues. He doesn't eat. He demands a lot of me. Too much. He won't dress himself. He won't use the potty. Every fucking thing is a power struggle with this kid. And as much as I love him, I am sick of it. And I keep asking myself how we got here. I've always tried to encourage his independence and he does play well by himself. But at every other turn, he wants me to do something for him.

And then, I think, well, it's my job to do things for my kid. But it's also my job to teach him how to grow up. To do things for himself.

I just feel like I'm in a pit and I can't climb out. And to make it all more confusing and/or emotional for me, I've been having really bizarre dreams.

Early Thursday morning, around 4:00 a.m., I awoke from a very scary dream. In the dream, a DeKalb Co. Police car was parked in front of my house and it was obvious the cop was watching someone. I was home alone. Scott and Brendan had gone somewhere overnight. I decided to go set the alarm. Just as I was setting the alarm, our kitchen door opened. I had my hand on the alarm and accidentally pushed the button that calls police directly. Within seconds, the police officer was at my door. He was young, friendly, African-American. The person coming in the kitchen door turned out to be Scott with a sleeping Brendan on his shoulder.

The officer told us there had been some burglaries and home invasions in our neighborhood and he was trying to catch the burglars.

Okay. Here's the freaky part. When I awoke for the day at around 7:00 a.m. and read the paper on-line, I saw there had been a home invasion at the home of a DeKalb Co. Police officer just a mile or so from our house. The officer killed one of the three men who broke into his home. This happened at 2:30 a.m. Just before I had my dream. Freaky.

In addition to that dream, for the last three nights in a row, I have dreamed I was a teenage girl. Each dream involved either a boyfriend or a cute boy that I was interested in. Each dream was in a different location with different "co-stars" and different subjects. I haven't a clue what it means unless it's a series of wish fulfillment dreams. I wish I were young and unencumbered by the tedious and frustrating aspects of my life. The thing is, I hated being a teenager and couldn't wait to grow up. Of course, in these dreams, my life is very different than my real life was, so I guess that makes it a double wish fulfillment dream.

Right now I'd take a kid who listens, cooperates, and doesn't say, "But I was just...."!

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