This is my sweet, loving, energetic, and delightfully entertaining 4 year old, Dean. He's super spoiled and rules the house. First, my defense: I miscarried 6 times before I got pregnant with him. I was on bedrest for FIVE months due to a subchorionic hemmorage (a hole in the placenta). Each day I was terrified he would die if the hole got too big. I had really grown to love parenting and was finally ready to have children (teen mom). It was the first time I was congratulated for being pregnant. I had baby showers. People asked how I was feeling and brought meals and gifts. THIS is what it felt like for normal people to have babies - and I got to experience it!
He arrived, alive. So precious to all of us. I also became a stay at home mom and breastfed for the first time. Such a sweet bond. We co-slept. We cuddled. I carried him in a wrap all the time. By the time I had transitioned him to a crib at 10 months I was pregnant again. A month later, February 4th, after over a week of spotting, insane pain, and daily doctor visits, we found this child was ectopic. I woke from surgery to find I had lost the baby and my right tube.
I brought Dean back to my bed, I spoiled him. We all catered to him. He had 3 mommies (awesome big sisters). The next pregnancy lasted longer (17 weeks). I went to the infusion center at the hospital EVERY DAY for IV fluids due to severe morning sickness (hyperemesis). I couldn't care for him very well. Potty training stopped; I wasn't able to get up and follow through. Consistency went out the window and I did not discipline well. He got whatever he wanted.
After the baby died, I was in a deep depression; I brought Dean back into my bed and spoiled him like crazy. Then I was better and worked hard to re-train, reverse the bad behaviors he was displaying. Then, when he was 3, I got pregnant again. Sick. So flippin sick. More IVs, more doctor visits, more bedrest. Forget consistency in potty training. Forget forcing him to clean up his toys. This was survival mode.
For the 5 months since Bruce was born I have worked soooo hard to be consistent, patient, and follow through. Dean does not sleep with me. He wears underwear with minimal accidents. He writes and says the alphabet. But the damage was done. It is almost as if I mated with satan and he is our demon spawn. Because he is NAUGHTY.
First stop: Costco. I'm making meals for a couple friends who had babies and another friend who is sick, and a lady who is going through chemo. I need groceries today!!
Dean runs across the store, proceeds to throw a 5 lb box of strawberries on the floor and stomp on them. I'm holding him, kicking and screaming, with Bruce also on me in the Moby wrap. I buckle him in, pick up the berries, and place a call to daddy to come get him. I don't care if he's tired, it's NOT okay to act the way he does. HOW did it get so bad?! HOW do I "fix" it??!
Can't get baby, Taylor, or groceries into my van. Ended up having to back out first.