I struggled with this post today which is why it is so late. I had it scheduled to write about my fears, but have been struck speechless at the moment.
Having anxiety disorder, I have irrational fears. I fear death. I fear the future for my children. When you sit down and write it out, I have very irrational fears that when in the right frame of mind can recognize (but, I’m not always in the right frame of mind). Tonight, I am having a fear for my son. Let me see if I can expand…
My son will be 4 years old at the end of the month. Mother’s intuition has always nagged at me that something is… different about him. He gives me a sense of borderline autistic, but everyone tells me that it’s just because I compare him to his sister. Which, it may. His sister is 6 and is average if not slightly advanced for her age. (And of course, rumor has it girls advanced faster than boys.) But there is just something about him that nags me as not feeling right (and please feel free to chime in at any time and tell me it’s my irrational fears!)
Let me use tonight for an example as that seems to be the best example. Being that its the weekends, the kids generally stay up a bit later than their normal 7pm bedtime. Tonight, at 8pm, the kids said they were tired. Normally, on non-school nights, my son sleeps in his sister’s room. (He requests it, he tends to sleep better in her room with her, it’s less of a fight.) Tonight, she was not feeling well so she said he can sleep with her. This ignited a battle that is still continuing an hour later.
He has been yelling, crying, throwing things, breaking toys (his own of course), calling hubby and I names, trying to hurt me – the whole 9 yards. This is not just tonight. This is not something that just happened because he’s in a mood. This happens nearly every night for the past couple of months.
He talks back (horribly). He has a potty mouth (for his age anyway). He has anger that can come on with the snap of your fingers. He lashes out when he’s angry trying to hurt people or break things. He doesn’t listen to anything we say. Everything is a constant battle with him.
Consequences are a joke to him. Nothing seems to phase him as far as discipline goes.
Now, here I sit, fearing for my little boy. Fearing for myself as I don’t know what more to do with him. Tonight, I am not feeling irrational fear.