A while ago I posted about an experience where having multiple kids in a "good behavior expected" situation ended up being disasterous as Joel got angry and threw his sippy cup across a banquet table nailing a bowl of salad and salad dressing and shooting it across the table onto an unsuspecting innocent bistandard.
Today was SO much worse.
I laughed about that situation (above) after it happened. It was embarrassing, it was frustrating, but all in all, life went on. I suppose now in the moment I am still to raw to laugh... or maybe it's the realization that today's experience is something that will repeat throughout his childhood into adulthood. ...who knows.
We went to church. We usually go Sunday mornings, but I decided to go tonight since we were close and it would prevent us from having to arise early in the morning and prep, etc. Joel goes to the preschool class while Kaeden is still in the nursery program. Once Joel got checked in, he was fine. When I went to pick him up I saw a picture on the video they play in the preschool hallway of him laying on a train table. Cute, totally not acceptable at home, but cute. I picked him up, and to his discerning nature, I did not allow him to go through the tunnel to get out of his class. He then went to the church sanctuary, ran in, up onto the stage, and began banging on the drums (which, by the way, were still attached to microphones). Amidst the pastor and a few others standing on stage, I grabbed him trying to explain acceptable and not acceptable and that these drums were too expensive for his crazy three year old hands to break. ...Joel didn't understand. He began yelling "walk big boy" meaning, put me down so I can walk. After being punched in the face and kicked in the stomach, I obliged for a trail run. Joel began running back on stage. I grabbed the hood of his coat and swung him back around. He kicked me in the leg and then knocked an entire row of chairs over. I tried to tell him "This is God's house and we don't destroy other's homes!" and he then knocked another row over. ...note to others, don't invite him in your home, he has no respect.
At that point I picked him up and with all my might I carried him to the car--with his hands smacking me over and over again in the face, and his feet kicking away at my already damaged uterus.
I love him, really I do.
I barely got to the car before the physical pain of these actions actually took effect. With the gorilla strength I hear so much about, I took him, flung him into his car seat and said "we don't hit!" as deep and evil as I could.
On our ride home, he took the entire large lemonaid I had gotten him for dinner before church and flung it up to the front seat. Seeing as how I'm allergic to citrus, it was a lovely experience to see, all over a car that I have to clean now, and will have allergy issues because of it. ...hello battery acid on skin feeling, I have so not missed you.
The truth of the matter is that on the ride home a thought went through my mind that sadly isn't a stranger of reaction to Joel's behavior issues... simply that of "if you put him outside the car, on the side of the road, and drive off... your life will be so much simpler". I've often wondered why I feel so connected and loving towards Joel... and have justified this by saying "he made me a mom". I have begun to believe that without that bond, Joel would be a homeless three year old. Yeah, I said it.
Nobody said this parenting thing was going to be easy... but along with that, nobody ever explained all the issues that come along with parenting a child who was exposed to God only knows what en utero...
I'm calling to get a ped appointment on Monday, and to get him back into occupational therapy and into a ped psych as well. I don't know how much longer I can mentally take dealing with these insane crazy irrational impulsive behavior.
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