Today started out well enough.  And it actually ended quite well too.  But that whole bit in the middle was a huge load of crap.

I picked up Stevie a little early from school.  He had an eye appointment, and I knew if he didn’t at least get a short nap, that appointment just wouldn’t happen.

I spent the next hour and a half of my life driving around the streets of Arcadia like an idiot trying to get him to fall asleep.  I could see that he was tired, but he must have known what I was trying to do and fought it with every fiber of his being.  Until he just couldn’t anymore.

He woke up 25 minutes later pissed.  Not groggy or a little annoyed that his nap was cut short – but straight up pissed.  I took him out of the car and tried to make the doctor’s appointment sound appealing, as he fell into a pile of spaghetti right there on the sidewalk and screamed “BYE! BYE! BYYYYYE!!!!”  And you know it’s super easy to carry a toddler too, when they are a pile of spaghetti.  It actually feels more like you’re holding onto a giant, wriggling 32-pound fish with your bare hands.

So I dragged him in the office and he sat for a moment, just looking around quietly.  I now realize that instead of being a good boy, he was plotting.  “How can I ruin these peoples’ day, like SHE has ruined mine?” He started by finding a little push car and ramming it into every person’s ankles that he could find.  I repeatedly steered him in the right direction and reminded him to watch where he was going.  It was no use.  So I took it from him and put it away.  I signed “all done”  because you’re not listening.  

Spaghetti on the floor + screaming.

Then he started throwing legos.  I calmly tried to remind him how to put them together and take them apart. And we don’t throw (she says for the 146th time that day.)

He runs into the middle of the room, opens his mouth wide and I know what’s coming.  I like to call it the Pterodactyl.  Because honestly, that’s what it sounds like.  The loudest scream you will ever hear from such a small person.  Or a large person, for that matter. The room went silent as they first stared at Stevie and then glanced to me as if to say “Isn’t it about time you slap that child upside the head or something?”

The rest of the appointment carried on like this.  You could hear his screams from one side of the office to the other.  They even let us go ahead of a few other waiting people to get him the hell out of there.

When the doctor came in, he was good.  The eye exam was over in about 5 minutes.  And then he happily walked out of the office and cheerfully said good-bye to everyone we passed, proud that his mission had been accomplished.  I followed behind schlepping all of our junk, surely looking like a rag doll.

A kind gentleman who was sitting, waiting with his kids stopped me on the way out. “So how is he doing overall?” gesturing toward the loud one.  I kind of chuckled and said “Well, his eyes are good.  His health is good.  He gets a lot of therapy and keeps me pretty busy.”  And he replied “Well, you are just so good with him.”  I replied “oh, thanks” with a bit of an embarrassed giggle, grateful for the compliment.

And then I immediately made a bee-line for the exit, because my eyes welled up with tears.

I honestly don’t know what it was about “You are just so good with him.”  That made me instantly emotional. It’s not like I never hear it.  My insecurities sure get the best of me a lot of times though. I’m so good with him? I thought.  I must be hiding my exasperation pretty well.  This guy can’t tell that I want punch Stevie in the mouth right now?

But what it really came down to, I think, is that he was a stranger.  He only saw Stevie for a few minutes and yet, he could acknowledge how difficult it must be to be Stevie’s mom sometimes.  No, not every moment of every day is like this, and it certainly has improved over the last few months, and I know people who have it a lot worse than I do.  But still a lot of times, its just hard.  Being a parent to any child is hard, period.  And perhaps, I was a little relieved he said that.  That I was good with him.  Because there are definitely days when I’m not.  I grab him a little too hard.  Or yell a little too much.  Or get frustrated a little too easily.

And I never wanted to be that mom.

All I ever wanted was to be good with him.