That poor woman

Today is the day where I'm a bad, bad mom. Today is the day where the nice lady at the rec center told me that while E did a great job playing with most of the kids, he picked out one little girl and pushed her. Relentlessly. Would not stop. And announced that he was pushing her to all who weren't watching and then told her she was sad. "I push kid. She's sad!" And while the nice lady at the rec center recounted this story to me, I stood there, feigning shock and I actually pretended to be surprised. I don't know why. I hate lying and try to avoid it all costs. And I'm sure she saw right through it. How could she not?

I felt like a complete and total asshole the whole ride home. I should have just explained to her that I was hoping since all the kids in the room were bigger than him, he would be smart enough not to pick a fight. That my thighs are rubbing together and that I am so tired and my back hurts and that E doesn't nap anymore and that I really, really just wanted to swim in the pool for half an hour all by myself and I'm sorry that he pushed the little girl but if I didn't take a break, if I didn't do a little bit of exercise and not be responsible for just a few minutes, I was going to lose my mind. She said we were more than welcome to come back and that most of the kids in the room would be starting school next week, so it would be a little less hectic and maybe that would make things easier on E. I muttered one last apology and encouraged E to be as charming as possible upon exiting the room. "Bye! Thanks!" he yelled in his tiny little two year old voice as he waved with all his might and the nice lady at the rec center smiled and waved back and I wondered if I'd ever see her again.

What's to stop me from shoving E in a pillowcase, putting him in the backseat of the car, driving him to Aurora and throwing him out the window into an abandoned parking lot, hoping that I made enough turns to confuse his internal navigation system and thus preventing him from finding his way home? This is what I'm wondering, not half an hour after the whole rec center episode. What's to stop me? He's a really smart kid, but he can't be that smart...can he? Nah. I'm mean, Aurora is far. And there are lots of highways. And he's pretty cute so someone would be bound to pick him up before he crossed I-25. Right? Hmmm...Maybe I should put him in his super-adorable but somewhat fruity giraffe outfit. That would totally up his appeal.

I decide that of all the reasons not to dump him in Aurora, the one that wins today, the one that I'm going to cling to next time he slaps me across the face for doing him the favor of changing his shitty diaper, is that I love him with all my heart and that I know that his behavior is totally normal, that it's just a stage and that it too shall pass. And that for it to pass requires a change in me, not him. He's TWO! I'm an adult, for Pete's sake. An adult who has read countless books on parenting and should be well-equipped to deal with whatever punches this kid throws at me. And while I've been indulging myself in a really whiny phase for the past few weeks, it's gotta stop. I've got to pull myself together and be a better mom. And while I feel like shooting rainbows out of my ass might be easier at this point in my life...

Yes, there are tons of things going on and life feels overwhelming, but whenever I get like this, I remind myself, I need to stop. I have a zillion things to be grateful for. And while it's ok to indulge in a little self-pity every once in a while, enough is enough. I need to assess - What things are bothering me? Triage - What can I fix and how can I fix it? What complications do I simply need to get rid of? And reorganize myself - What is the new reality going to look like?

I realize that I've been ignoring a few things because I don't want to face them. Because maybe if I ignore them, they'll resolve themselves or go away on their own. But that's not going to happen. So here I go. And while I acknowledge that I might not find the solution I was hoping for, sometimes you just have to accept the limitations of the situation and deal.

First thing on the list: the goddamn cat. I love this cat. We've been together for over 10 years. I bottle-fed him when his mother was killed (he was this tiny, 3 week old kitten and god, was he ever cute) but now...now he wakes us up every morning with his incessant meowing and just. won't. stop. We've let him go for an almost an hour and he meows THE ENTIRE FUCKING TIME. He doesn't stop to breathe, he doesn't stop to lick his ass, he doesn't stop until someone comes downstairs and feeds him. And then if you have the balls to go back upstairs, guess what?!? He'll meow again. I bought him an auto-feeder in hopes that a few scheduled morsels of kibble would shut him up, but nope. And not only does he meow unceasingly, he doesn't move when Ev is looming with that deranged look in his eye. I mean, how many times does E have to pull Baci's tail before he realizes what's coming?!? And just like when E pushes other kids, he exclaims for all to hear, "I pull Baci's tail!" like the newsboy announcing "Extra! Extra! Read all about it!" And I've tried everything. I am so desperately out of ideas and patience. I've tried immediately picking Baci's fat ass up and putting him outside. The stupid cat comes right back, tail and all. I've tried firmly telling E, "No!" I've tried explaining that it makes Baci so sad and that it hurts Baci, which E clearly internalized because he has incorporated it into his announcement, "I pull Baci's tail. Baci sad!" I've tried ignoring E (as difficult as it is) and lavishing attention on the poor, idiotic cat. E comes over and hugs Baci and brings him a blanket and declares Baci happy...until the next time he pulls his tail, at which point, Baci is apparently, sad all over again. I tried to use Love and Logic, but I froze and couldn't come up with the alternative - "E, you can either stop pulling Baci's tail, or..." because there is no OR. Or what? Or you can go live in Aurora?

So, back to my list - Baci is at the top of it for multiple reasons. Oh, not to mention that I'm terrified that once B arrives, Baci is going to block up again, almost die and cost us another mortgage payment in vet bills. So, as I see it, my options are: put Baci on the anti-anxiety meds the vet gave us, even though I'm worried that with his previous medical history, we might be risking his health. It would solve the meowing problem and the new baby problem, but it wouldn't solve the E pulling his tail problem. It might make it so Baci doesn't care, but it would still fundamentally be a problem. Or we could find him a new home...but it's not really a solution if it's worse than the problem, is it? Baci requires special food and again, could block up in response to the stress of a new life. And I don't want to make that someone else's responsibility. Unfortunately, I can't explain to him that it could be a much better life and that he ruins his chances by almost DYING, but if I could, then this would be a no-brainer. So what do I do?

For allowing me to vent, here's my gift to you: Louis CK's Why? Today I felt like the mom at McDonald's he talks about 6.5 minutes into the clip. Just listening to this in the background made me feel better.