If this weekend earns me a grade of any kind, I would say I earned a solid C-. My son was safe, well fed, clean in both body and clothes for the most part and arrived at two scheduled events on time. Logistically, I am pretty decent at motherhood.
My grade takes a hit once the t-ball game starts. My lecture from home to field was about listening to his coach and keeping his hands off the other players. We were planning to go out for hot dogs and ice cream after the game. Twenty minutes into the game, another kid approached him taking off my son's hat. My son returned the favor with a body slam to the ground. One of the assistants breaks them apart and carries my son off the field.
My son saw my angry eyes through the fence in the dugout. The sweet assistant sits with my son and asks him questions about what happened. I decided to walk away. My words aren't working, but maybe this guy has the right touch. Next inning, my son does it again to another child. Here comes another one-on-one conversation with the same sweet assistant in the dugout. My son knows now that all promises of hot dogs and ice cream are long gone.
Later that evening, we go to a dance concert to watch his godmother dance. He was great though I was on him several times to stop talking during the dance numbers. He leave at the same time as another little girl. My son is showing off around her. Moments later, he takes off up several flights of stairs running away from us. He is laughing. I am shouting his name. A security guard walks over to see what is happening. The situation ends when I pick up my screaming, wiggling 40-pound son and carry him down several flights of stairs in 4-inch heels. By the time I make it to the car, he is hysterical and I am exhausted. All I can think is get him home. I will save you the details of what transpired at home, but it was not pretty.
Here is what I know. I love this creature more than life itself. He is four and very strong both in body and will. Four year old humans are searching for their independence. Testing boundaries is par for the course. What is happening is normal, but that does not make any of this crazy behavior easier. I went to bed Saturday night feeling like a failure. I didn't cry because frankly I was too damn tired to do so.
I kept him alive. He hurt a few people. He startled the security guard. We almost lost our lives while he was trying to knock me me down the stairs while fighting my grasp. He also got to see a variety of dancers perform and enjoy some sunshine on his face. My son may never watch TV again if this trend continues. So you see my grade is a solid C-.