Part-time Mom

Wow! What a night with JJ . . . he was in one of his moods. I work most days from 10:30 (or so) until 5, so as much as I hate it sometimes, I am a part-time mom. Thankfully, my mother watches him during the day, so at least I know he's with family. Today, I picked him up early since my parents were going out of town to visit my sister, and he fell asleep on the way home. He's very routine-oriented, so changing his schedule or routine on him makes him a bit grumpy. He's used to waking up from his nap and seeing his grandma (who he affectionately calls "Ba"), but today, heaven forbid, he woke up to see "mama". Ba was nowhere in sight. He woke up and immediately started crying and calling for Ba, and I patted his back since he still looked half asleep. It didn't help. He just kept call for Ba, so I finally picked him up once he stood up (I'm about 19 weeks pregnant with twins and only 4' 11", so reaching into a crib to pick up a 26 pound baby is somewhat of a challenge.).

It was time for his dinner, but I knew he would not get into his high chair in his current mood. Instead, I rocked him in the recliner, and we sat and watched cartoons for a minute. He finally settled, and his mood perked up a bit so I figured he was ready. He wasn't. He starts asking me for some Care Bear gummies, and I oblige in an effort to keep him quiet while I heat up his food. I warmed up some lentil stew I had and sliced an orange. He was happy to eat the orange, and I figured it was a good sign that he would cooperate through dinner. I told him I had his lentils, and I give him a spoonful. He starts crying and asks for "thopa kibby", which I know means spaghetti soup. He's used to speaking Spanlish since he spends half a day with my mother who speaks only Spanish to him and half a day with his dad and I who speak mostly English to him. Luckily, I have some pasta soup, and I heat that up for him. He starts to eat it, and after about 6 spoonfuls says "No mama" and turns his head when I try to feed him. He hasn't eaten anything since lunch, and it's now 5:30 pm, so I know he must be hungry. I try again, and he still refuses. I offer him a turkey sandwich, and he nods his head. I make his sandwich hopeful that he will finally eat, and he looks at it and says "no burger mama". At this point, I'm pretty frustrated, so I ask him if he's hungry. He says he's not, so I figure I will just let him play for a bit and try again later.

We played ball for a while and waited for dad to come home. Dad finally comes him around 7, and offers to take him to the store to get milk. I could use the time to straighten up, so I say 'yes'. I tell JJ he's going to the store with his dad, and I start to change his outfit . . . another tantrum ensues (not sure why this time). I quickly change his clothes, and he's off to the store. As much as I'm dreading it, I know I have to try to get him to eat some more when he returns. They come home at about 8, and I heat up some fried rice and wash some blueberries and an apple. This time he eats the rice with little struggle, and has a couple apple slices. He starts eating the blueberries with no problem at first. He must have found a sour one in the bunch though because a few minutes later, I catch him spitting out smashed up blueberry on his chair. I quickly clean it up and tell him not to spit the blueberries out anymore. He's quiet for a minute and heads back to the plate for more blueberries. I'm watching him the entire time, and he knows it. He starts to chew it up, and kneels down in front of his chair with a grimace on his face. He starts to open his mouth, and I say, "JJ no! If you spit that out, you're not getting anymore blueberries.". He spits out the blueberry, and quickly puts it back in his mouth. I'm aggravated that he's not listening, but I have to turn my head to keep from laughing at his boldness in front of him. As he gets up to reach for more blueberries, I take the other blueberries away, and his 3rd tantrum of the night starts. He goes up to the TV screen and smudges it with the blueberry remnants he has in his hands. He then drops onto his butt and flings his head back smacking on it on the floor, and he realizes it doesn't feel good. He starts to fake cry, and I tell him to get up and come give mom a hug. After rolling around for a moment, he comes for his hug. I know he's just having a bad night, so I'm just trying to get through it and hope he's in a better mood in the morning. He's obviously tired, so we take a shower, and his dad puts him to bed.

He can be a real stinker, but even on his bad nights, it's funny how he still melts my heart. It strikes me sometimes how he can be so little and already know so much. He knows how to push my buttons, and he knows how to make it better when he's made me mad. He knows what he wants, and he knows how to ask for it. He knows his routines, and his memory is better than mine. I don't think anyone ever knows what they're getting into when they think about becoming parents. It's not what you expect it to be. It's so much more.