Tonight was one of the most difficult moments I've had as a mom. Chris did the grocery shopping while I took night duty. After watching Mickey Mouse, Ethan came upstairs for bath time.
I proceeded to take off his shirt where he began screaming bloody murder. The type of cry where the poor kid can't catch his breath long enough to breathe. He wanted to keep that damn shirt on.
He screamed while taking off his pants. And socks.
He screamed while putting him in the tub. Normally I'd say "screw it" at this point but the kid was covered in spaghetti sauce.
He screamed while trying to wrestle a diaper on.
I screamed. He cried. I left the room to cool off. He followed me. I left the room again, he continued to scream and cry.
He screamed while putting on pjs. He kicked and smacked. I swatted his little butt.
I don't spank. I don't believe in spanking. I believe a child can get the point through firm words and gestures. I spanked out of frustration.
With the boy finally dressed, I put the screaming, crying kid in bed and left the room. I cried with him. How will I ever deal with two kids if this is how it is with one?
Given some time, I went back into Ethan's room and apologized. The crying had stopped (from both of us.) I told Ethan I was sorry for yelling and spanking and that Mommy was just frustrated. He asked for a kiss and hug and for Mommy to "stay" for a bit. I obliged. What am I going to do?!
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