Sometimes my children's behaviors blow me away. Eric is, well.. Eric. Lily is at the threshold between toddler and preschooler. Gamma has become a toddler.
Yesterday we were all walking Eric home from school. I cannot wait until husband buys himself a commuter car. And we are all giggly and happy, la di da de. Then Eric comes upon an empty glass bottle with a lizard on it. We never have drinks like this around our house, he is curious. He picks it up.
Immediately lots of things go through my head. All with him ending up hurt by the glass. I so I say calmly "Eric, put it down." He smiles at me. Continues to hold it. "PLEASE, put it down." He starts walking away from me with it. "Eric, I am trying not to get angry. Put it down." He turns around holding the bottle by the lid looking at it.
"Eric put it down, put it down. Put it down. Put it down" I repeat and repeat. But its like he is deaf. "PUT THE BOTTLE DOWN." I yell. Hating myself as I do so.
He throws it onto the asphalt. It smashes and glass is everywhere. "What is wrong with you!" I instinctively say. Why did I say that? Why did he do that? Why me?
I close my eyes. I count to ten.
"I wasn't telling you to put it down because I am a jerk. I was telling you to put it down so it wouldn't break and you wouldn't get hurt."
Glass was everywhere. I had nothing to clean it up with. I had three children trying to walk home. A kind passerby offers his plastic bag. I accept it and thank him. Then I clean up as much glass as I can. We walk home in silence. I am furious.
I just don't know what to say to him to make him listen. I don't know what to do to make him understand that some things are very important. That he has to do what I say so no one gets hurt. I am at a loss. Situations like this make me feel like maybe I wasn't meant to be a mother.