Mommies Magazine

Weathering the Storm

Posted on 13. Jul, 2006 by Stacy in Your Home

Last week I had a horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad day. One of my worst days as a mom. I took my daughter to her feeding therapy this morning and she was doing great.

When it was time to clean up and go, she had a meltdown. A HUGE meltdown. I warned her five minutes before we stopped, but that didn’t work. I tried distracting her, bribing her, walking away, being patient, yada, yada, yada. Nothing was working. So I warned her again that if she didn’t get up and walk out all by herself like a big girl, I would carry her out screaming and yelling. And that’s just what she did ~ SCREAM AND YELL.

She dropped to the floor a couple times and pretended to fall asleep. When she wouldn’t get up, I picked her up. When she started slipping out of my arms, I put her down and she flopped on the floor. She was making such a scene that people started coming up to me and asking if I needed help. All I wanted to do was get out of there and hide. She was kicking and screaming and flailing her arms. This went on for the entire walk to the car, which went through a quiet hallway IN A HOSPITAL and then through the parking garage.

When we finally got to the car, I pretty much threw her in and shut the door. I got in the front seat and cried my eyes out. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I just wanted to disappear. I cried and yelled ~ cried and yelled some more. She refused to get in her car seat so I waited, then yelled, waited and yelled some more. Then I got out of the car and walked around the back to force her in, but she was already on her way in the seat. I buckled her up, got back in the car, and drove away as fast as I could.

I called my husband so he could distract me from crying but he didn’t answer. I turned the radio up so I couldn’t hear J screaming and crying. She was trying to wiggle herself out of the car seat. All I could think to myself was, "this is crazy, this is not normal. normal kids don’t act like this." I started to cry again and she heard me sobbing. It made her cry harder. I drove as fast as I could and finally got home. I didn’t say a word, helped her out of the car and opened the front door. She walked in and laid down on the floor. I took her shoes off, picked her up and brought her into her room. Changed her diaper really quick, pulled the blanket over her, put on some soft music and walked out without saying a word. I heard her whimper as I walked away, but I just couldn’t talk. Instead, I curled up into a ball on the couch and cried. I actually sobbed! I felt, I FEEL, so alone in this. No one gets it. I was embarrassed, angry, sad, confused, frustrated. I literally wanted to throw her across the room. Why does it always have to be so difficult?