This little boy named Ryan.

When my first born Evan was a baby, I had a really hard time nursing him. My milk was slow to come in and he was a hefty 8 pounder who seemed to constantly want to eat. However as a new Mom I was determined to figure this out. I made several trips to the lactation consultant, spent hours with Evan trying to get him to latch on, applied lanolin on the few moment my boobs were on a break and did my best to eat healthy and keep pumping to help get my milk to come in faster. After the first few days at home with him and a diagnosis from the lactation nurse that Evan had a "Barracuda" latch technique and that I would just have to suck it up, I remember vividly standing in the shower hugging my sore and raw tender breasts and crying because I knew that a feeding wasn't far off and it was the absolute last thing I wanted to do.
Not wanting to nurisng Evan was an emotion I was not prepared for. I dread when it was his time to eat, I started favoring the bottle and on the time when I did get Evan latched on it hurt so much that I can't honestly say that I spent more time staring up at the ceiling counting to ten to help take my mind of the pain, then I did staring at him cradled in my arms. Where was all this in the "what to expect when you are expecting book" There sould have been a chapter on why I just wanted to run like hell when Evan began his hunger cry. I was a new Mom for only a few weeks and already I was a failure.
Of course eventually I realized that wasn't the case. I firmly believe God saw a moment to intervene and stepped in with giving Evan a milk allergy. I was no longer able to give him my breast milk and he was put on a Hypoallergenic formula fed through a bottle and in a nut shell problem solved. I sat back and relaxed a little and firmly believed that I would nerv have another moment of feeling like I was a failure as a parent again.
That is until Ryan, my second born turned 3. The past few weeks have been a challenge with him. He has more energy now at 3 than he did at 2 if that is possible. He is constantly trying to keep up with Evan which means lot's of frustration and lot's of temper tantrums. In typical 3 year old fashion he doesn't like to share, he thinks everything is his and he has learned anew trick which involves taunting his brother and instigating trouble where ever he turns. Now before I go on any further, let me clarify. I love this little boy. I love every ounce of him, I would lay down my life for this kid. But there are days where I find myself not looking forward to spending time with him. Just to even type that makes me feel like a big failure than I did not being bale to nurse Evan. This dawned on me yesterday while I assumed the position of standing in the middle of the kitchen massaging my temples while counting to 10 so I could figure out the best way to handle how to handle Ryan who is in front of me on the floor throwing one of his famous tantrums. I know this is a aprt of the deal. Toodlerhood/ early preschool years are full of changes for these little guys and when you have an older brother who seems a second faster than you are and is able to communicate better than I can see why it would lead to lot's of frustration and anger. I just don't know how to handle it anymore. I am your classic case of woman on the egd of a nervous break down if I hear Ryan scream yell of whine any more. Where did my sunny and bubbly little boy go?? I see glimpses of him from time to time. Especially when he is sleepy and he wants to cuddle in my lap. yup, that is him. But how do I hep him get through this phase. How can I be patient enough for him and learn more tolerance because quite frankly I am running out. The familiar feelings of failing one of my boys creeps and and surrounds me. It probably something I need to squash and just get over myself but my challenge with Ryan lately is leaving me tired, frustrated and I will just be honest - depressed. Once again where is this in the "What to expect - The Toddler years."
So I do the best I can.. On some days I have more tolerance than others and I do my best to explain to Ryan why he can't have a certain toy or a certain food (usually cookies). I do my best to react fairly to every situation and try and encourage Ryan to feel good about himself even when he is in the throws of acting out. I praise his energy and love his enthusiasm on everything even when I am bone tired and using safety pins to keep my eye lids open. I hug him probably more now than I did ever before because I want him to know that no matter how mad I get with him or how frustrated he can make me, I love him unconditionally and always will. I hope deep down he knows that. And I hope for myself, even deeper down that I will realize that I am not a failure. I am just a Mom, hanging on with both hands through this storm of parenthood, glimpsing at moments that really do remind me, this is the ride of my life.