And then the moment passes and I’m me again. Well-meaning, flawed, and human…but I like to think that is just as meaningful. At least I like to convince myself of that when I falter. Like at the doctor’s today, when both of us acted our worst due to lack of sleep and adequate nourishment. He was the very picture of a precocious pain the ass and I was all scattered and on the verge of tears. At least neither of us lost our temper and I was able to put aside my annoyance to comfort him after six brutal procedures. There I was, a total mess and embarrassed…and still managed to illicit a smile through his tears. I am determined to make sure he knows his mom is human but can still be what he needs…that he’s safe even when I can’t possibly be perfect. That I am many things, but most importantly, his mom (at least to him).
On a side note….although I loved his new doctors, why the fuck do people feel the need to “help” when a parent disciplines? He was being a bratty kid…not doing what he was told, giving wrong answers when it mattered. And all I did was gently remind him that he might lose his iPad time if he didn’t start acting appropriately….I didn’t even raise my voice…but repeatedly the Dr and nurse felt the need to smooth the situation over…”oh it’s okay…he’s fine”. NO, he’s not fine. I’m not some crazy strict bitchy mom telling him to not cry during a shot or yelling at him, threatening him. And its not the end of the world if he loses the damn thing. I was simply trying to teach him proper etiquette. And my expectations for him are usually reasonable. I know they want to be liked. I know they want to be the nice guy but don’t interfere with someone teaching their child proper manners. We need balance in this world. Not perfection. Just personal responsibility. And that’s my job to help him understand. As a Dr, you don’t have to help…just stay out if it. Just smile and wait a second. Sorry. Just pissed me off a tiny bit. Off my soapbox now.