The One With the Breakdown
I might as well tell you all, as I'm killing time at work after 5 when I'm not allowed to leave but don't want to work, about the trials and tribulations of being an emotional mother of a "problem" child. As I was thinking about the joys Mon would have as a mother of an African baby, I couldn't help thinking of the hardships: how there will often seem to be more bad times than good when it really isn't worth it, though it always is.
This weekend I had one such time. Muggsy has been very grouchy and aggressive since his appointment, and I haven't really dealt with it. I've been telling myself that it's OK, that he is who he is. However, I'm not me if I don't admit that the situation is always going to be upsetting to me. I'm an emotional girl, what can I say?
Anyway, I started thinking about what Muggsy was like as a puppy. I told Robby this story about how I taught Muggsy to shake. I had no idea how to do it the right way, but I would just pick up his hand, shake it and give him a treat. In no time, literally a matter of minutes, he was offering the behavior. Every time he would get it right, I would get so excited and tell him what a good boy he was in my squeaky voice. He would get so excited that he would spin in a circle with his butt still on the ground. It was so cute. He would look up at me with such love, and he loved to learn and spend time with me.
I felt the same way. I spent every moment from the time I got home from work with him, playing with him and teaching him tricks. I guess that might be part of his problem -- too spoiled. :) I just felt about him the way I think a new mom would feel. I was in a relationship with someone who was always critical of me, I wasn't getting along that well with my family, who is always critical of me, and I needed that feeling of unconditional love. I took him everywhere and we got along so well.
Anyway, telling Robby this story made me so sad. I just started crying, and it went on for a good hour. Now I'm teaching him things that are for his own good, but they don't seem as fun. I don't see that "I love to learn and be with you" look that I got when he was a pup. I still see it sometimes -- that I love you and trust you and will do whatever you say look. But I just wish he could be happier and have that look a lot more often.
He's a treasure, and I will always do right by him, no matter what that takes. It's just a lot harder now than it used to be. And every now and then, me being me, I need to have a good cry.
This weekend I had one such time. Muggsy has been very grouchy and aggressive since his appointment, and I haven't really dealt with it. I've been telling myself that it's OK, that he is who he is. However, I'm not me if I don't admit that the situation is always going to be upsetting to me. I'm an emotional girl, what can I say?
Anyway, I started thinking about what Muggsy was like as a puppy. I told Robby this story about how I taught Muggsy to shake. I had no idea how to do it the right way, but I would just pick up his hand, shake it and give him a treat. In no time, literally a matter of minutes, he was offering the behavior. Every time he would get it right, I would get so excited and tell him what a good boy he was in my squeaky voice. He would get so excited that he would spin in a circle with his butt still on the ground. It was so cute. He would look up at me with such love, and he loved to learn and spend time with me.
I felt the same way. I spent every moment from the time I got home from work with him, playing with him and teaching him tricks. I guess that might be part of his problem -- too spoiled. :) I just felt about him the way I think a new mom would feel. I was in a relationship with someone who was always critical of me, I wasn't getting along that well with my family, who is always critical of me, and I needed that feeling of unconditional love. I took him everywhere and we got along so well.
Anyway, telling Robby this story made me so sad. I just started crying, and it went on for a good hour. Now I'm teaching him things that are for his own good, but they don't seem as fun. I don't see that "I love to learn and be with you" look that I got when he was a pup. I still see it sometimes -- that I love you and trust you and will do whatever you say look. But I just wish he could be happier and have that look a lot more often.
He's a treasure, and I will always do right by him, no matter what that takes. It's just a lot harder now than it used to be. And every now and then, me being me, I need to have a good cry.
posted by Rachel at
5:02 PM
3 Comments:
A good cry is the best. Gets it all out, you feel cleansed, and miraculously can see clearer at the end. Men don't know what they're missing out on.
Don't worry, David no longer looks up at me adoringly and wants to do everything I ask either. In fact, most of the time he's saying "I can do it by mySELF!" or "I can't" or "NO Mom!" I was so excited the other day that he actually responded to one of my requests with "Ok Mom" I almost bought the boy a candy bar. Sad.
Welcome to parenthood I guess. They want to be independent and resent our attempts to mold them into model citizens. Remember? We did the same thing! :) Maybe every now and then, he just needs undeserved, unrestrained lovings ... squeaky voice included! ;)
By
Monica, at 8:42 AM
Have you ever wondered why some women have 6 or 8 or more kids? That's why. It's only special, unconditional love for a short time. So when the baby is no longer a baby, well, then you have another one. Or you cherish your memories, and cry out your new hurts. And rejoice with the new successes as your child grows up. But it's very hard when the puppy love is gone.
By
Diana, at 8:53 PM
Oh. I just thought these women were insane. I mean, who would stretch out their body EIGHT times?!?! That fo' sho' ain't snapping back! (I just bought the new Will Smith cd. Can you tell?)
By
Monica, at 3:35 PM
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