It is during times like these when I feel that I am unfit for motherhood.
I just came from a two hour battle with Chloe. Over eight spoonfuls of rice and chicken adobo. And the battle is not over. She is still downstairs, facing the wall and crying her heart out. I cannot say that I've won the battle, even though she is currently serving her 'sentence' for it. We are both worn out, tired and exasperated from each other. Yet, I do not think either of us came out the wiser.
I have left the care of Chloe to her yaya for almost seven months now. The yaya is wonderful. At least, I think she is. I feel she loves Chloe, and sincerely believes she's doing the right thing. But after interviewing several moms who have kids around Chloe's age, and finding out that their kids are eating by themselves already, I panicked. A year ago, while we were out malling, Mike and I saw a boy of about eight to ten years old, being spoonfed by a yaya while his mom looked on. Spoonfed. At (conservatively) eight years old!!! I shudder at the thought of Chloe reaching that age, and still being spoonfed.
So the transition from being spoonfed to eating by herself was sudden. One day, I just decided on it. I know she knows how to eat by herself. All I have to do now is make her want to do it.
And from the looks of it, I'm not being successful at the task.
I have to remind myself that I am dealing with a three year old. I have to remind myself that when I was still single, I had dreams of being THE BEST mom because I'd know how to handle my own kids well. Silly me. It wasn't a dream. It was a
fantasy.
Look at where we are now. :( The dinner table has become a battleground of some sort. We both dread being on it. We both cannot wait to get out of it.
Not only that. But lately, EVERYTHING has been a struggle. From getting her to brush her teeth in the morning, to getting her to brush her teeth at night. Even the aircon and electric fan have become issues. She wants it on. I want it off. And we fight.
Sometimes, actually, a lot of times, I just want to let her be.
You don't want to brush your teeth? Then don't.
You don't want to eat? Then don't. But if I do that, what kind of mother would I be?
I need to preserve my sanity, if only so I'd still be sane when the second baby comes. Even now, when people (i.e. MY MOM) tell me I
need to bring another baby to this world in the hopes that it'll be a boy, in my mind, I am secretly bonking them on the head already. It would be so easy to just give birth and leave everything to the yaya's hands. But I know myself -- I cannot do it. I AM a hands on mom.
The other day, after a post toothbrush war, Chloe told her yaya she's scared of me.
Because I'm so mad daw. It broke my heart into pieces. It made me think even more of whether I'm doing the right thing.
I knew parenting would be hard. I just didn't realize it would be
this hard.
