…for me. Not my little man.
Teachers said he had a great day until the end when it was time to go when he started putting up a fuss when things weren’t going well. But still an over all good day.
Until it was time for us to walk to the car. He started doing the going limp thing because he wanted to go into a nearby puddle. Then he starts yelling that he’d hold my hand once we got to the curb, but I know that all he wanted was freedom to go into the puddle.
At one point he bolts for the puddle and is playing in it. I can’t get to him (it was a HUGE puddle) due to the ice still in the bottom of the puddle and my less that sure footing still at this point. This WHOLE thing is being watched by his teachers, and one offers to go get him for me since they know of my foot injury and don’t want me to get hurt again.
As the teacher goes to grab him he makes a bolt for the parking lot at which point his teachers nabs him.
We finally get to the car and I just start crying. Again. I feel so embarrassed not just for me, but for him as well. I can’t handle my own child. What does that say about me?
He can be so snugly and loving, and is always the first to try and get one of his siblings out of a punishment, the most willing to snuggle and love up on you. And then it is like this other person takes over when he doesn’t get his way or his anger gets to a certain point.
I just don’t know what to do.
I had intended this blog to be not just about my struggles with depression, anxiety, and the daily crazies of having kids, but all I have seemed to do lately is dwell on this because it is such a big part of why I can’t seem to climb out of this funk.
I’m not giving up on him, I just am at a loss for what to do at this point.