“I’ll tire him out in the bath”.
That was my mom’s response to an email that I sent. I just cannot get it out of my head and every time I ‘hear’ it I get more hurt, more angry, more frustrated.
Tire him out? The kid is fucking exhausted EVERY SINGLE DAMN DAY! I tell her that he isn’t sleeping. I tell her how worried I am about his mental development. She says that he’s obviously bright and that if there was an issue, “of course we would know about it”. Oh really? How? Are you a neurologist and I just never knew?
So when he ends up with an alphabet disorder (ADD, ADHD, OCD, you know) and you try and tell me that it has absolutely nothing to do with what every doctor on the planet says is a crucial time for his neural pathways – then do I get to punch you in the face?
Because it is that bad. I have actual violent feelings towards the woman who raised me because of this issue. She has spent nights here, supposedly to help us try and get some sleep. She has witnessed first hand his struggles to fall asleep and to stay asleep and still she just doesn’t give a damn.
I feel like their entire relationship is about her. He looks adorable in her arms when we visit at work. His pictures on her desk cheer her up. She spends most of her time with him talking TO him – even when he’s babbling she just talks right over him. Telling him to tell her how he loves her, usually.
“I let him play a little bit after his bath that one night and he slept great for me”. First of all, no – he did not sleep great. He got one three hour chunk and one 2.5 hour chunk and then a two. So while that is ok it is nowhere near the 10-12 hours per night he should be getting. Second, thanks for rubbing in the fact that you completely disregarded our routine. That’s awesome.
When you had no idea how to deal with my Postpartum and compared it you having a bad day and told me to just get some sleep I tried to let it go. When you call him ‘my baby’ and continuously ignore me every time he’s anywhere near I chalk it up to being a new grandmother. But this is where I draw the line.
Do you remember when we got back from that hellish car trip and you spent the night so we could get some sleep? You tried to rock him to sleep but he was pitching all kinds of fits. Instead of getting either one of us (we were awake and sitting in the living room) you just kept doing what you were doing while he screamed. I finally couldn’t take the screaming any more and came and got him. Your explanation? You wanted to be the one who helped him. I should have called you out on that right there. A lot of this is my fault.
IT IS NOT ABOUT YOU. IT IS ABOUT WHAT HE NEEDS. Is it more important for you to be the one he falls asleep with or for him to fall asleep? For him to wear the elf outfit on Christmas day or for him to be comfy and cozy? For you to seem like you know what you’re talking about or for you to admit that there is something wrong and it is scary and you can’t help? You could help, by the way, if you would just LISTEN and ACCEPT that there is an issue. If you would maybe do some research and try to become knowledgeable. Or if you would just stop being so damn passive-aggressive about our choices and our fears.
It is almost Christmas so I can’t have this fight with you right now. Ever since the Tiny Tyrant was born you don’t listen to a word I say, so I can’t have this fight with you. I still feel responsible for how your holidays go since the divorce so I can’t have this fight with you.
So I say it all here. Since I know you’ll never read this blog, because heaven forbid you know what is actually going on. I say it all here because it’s eating me up and I need to get it out.
He’s awake. This last nap was 16 minutes. Guess I need to go tire him out.
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