Thursday, December 8, 2005

Motherless Child

Jaxson and I are holed up in my room right now, awaiting the end of Hurricane Ryan. -- oops, there goes the bathroom stool down the stairs.

She had our neighbor over earlier, was rude to her, refusing entrance to her room to, I don't know, play, several times, so I sent the neighbor home (she actually went running). Ryan is retaliating, and I'm afraid. Very afraid. I'm not that scared of her or her insane rantings (I am the one who passed her the crazy gene, after all), it's more like I'm afraid of what I'll do to her if she doesn't stop. I know myself and I know my limits, and I don't want to be Spanking Mommy. I really don't. I know my parents used corporal punishment and my sisters and I were fine, but I have a tendency to want to hit when I get really mad, and I just can't do it. Oh, I have done it before -- spanking, not hitting in anger -- and each and every time left me with a sour taste in my mouth and sleepless nights.

So here we are, cowering in fear, and I am racking my brain for Supernanny tactics, all of which it turns out I've already used, all of which have left me high and dry this cold bleak winter afternoon. Ryan is literally out in the hall throwing things, including herself, against the walls, doors -- basically any inanimate stable object will suffice, apparently.

I don't know how to help my child channel her emotions -- whether they are angry or excited, she can't harness them, and it's becoming more and more evident. When she's excited she throws herself onto and into anything in sight, screaming and yelling in delight. When she's upset, she throws herself onto and into anything in sight, screaming and yelling in what can only be described a madness.

You may be wondering what the hell I'm doing typing this while my child writhes alone in anger, but I. don't.know.what. I understand her predicament; suffered it as a child, adolescent, teenager, even as a young adult. It's a real problem, with real anwers (Prozac works well), but I'm not that into medicating my 3 yr old, and I don't want her labeled. I taught middle school, people, I know what that does to a kid. So this is why I'm typing.

What do I do to help this fragile, beautiful little angel who looks to Mommy to help her, only to have to be left alone because Mommy is at a loss? I know she will calm down soon; we've played out this scene before, and when she does, we will sit and talk things out, talk about using our words, breathing deep, removing ourselves from the situation, etc... This just doesn't seem like enough. I do not want her to go through the struggle I went through. I know kids have to learn lessons on their own, and I advocate that, but not this one. This one is destructive to body mind and soul. This one took me 22 years to overcome, and I still fight with it at times.

She's sitting in her time-out spot right now, holding a picture of her Daddy, crying for him to come help her. I want to do the same.

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