What is the number one easiest way to ensure that some recently ‘mastered’ parenting trick or technique fails spectacularly?
Oh, oh, I know…talk about it!
(See yesterday’s post.)
Last night was hell. Hell, I tell you. I honestly am beginning to question my competency, not just as a mother, but as a card-carrying adult member of society.
JP is not sleeping still. And that’s hardly the point. The real issue is, I can’t say no to my kids. Rather, I can’t say ‘that’s not good for you, so I’m going to enforce something that is’ so long as it causes me discomfort.
What could this possibly mean for the teenage years? Hell, for the kindergarten years?
I’m sitting here at 2 something in the afternoon watching ‘Real Time’ tv, Italy’s version of ‘TLC’ (my guilty fave) and listening to JP sca-reaaaaaam for the third nap attempt of the day. He has been nursed. He has been dosed with Tylenol. He has been read to (in 2 languages). He has eaten and drank his fill of delicious, nutritious foods and beverages. He has had lots of one-on-one Mommy cuddle time. He has even been sprung from his earlier screamfest by my suspicious Romanian cleaning lady who informed me, in no uncertain Italian terms, that he wanted to be picked up. Oh, do you think?
At this point, I just have to ask myself, what the hell am I doing wrong?
Besides wanting to throw myself under one of the passing tiny trash trucks that lumber past our apartment building all night long, I’m not sure quite how to go about this entire ‘sleep training’ business…or any other difficult aspects of motherhood, it would seem. My fuse is thisshort, my energy is absolutely nonexistent, and my kids are probably suffering long term damage from my ham-handed attempts to raise them keep them alive.
I guess this too shall pass, but God help me, what terrifying developmental phase is looming after this one? I will gladly take in toddlers for a group potty training session which lasts a fortnight, and I’ll even use sugar free treats for positive reinforcement, if only someone could make this child sleep. Any takers?
Over and out. A happy weekend to you and yours, I guess. I’ll just be here drinking lukewarm and unsatisfying Italian beer and trying not to burst into tears while JP howls from the back bedroom.
Oh, and here are some unrelated and largely irrelevant pictures of Italy. Because, you know, at least I’m in Italy.