Normally I love Fridays. It’s the end of the week, the trusty husband will be home all weekend, I look forward to spending two whole days as a family. Usually I spend my Friday mornings cleaning the house and having fun with the boy. We take field trips to places like the zoo or the duck pond. But for some reason I woke up on the wrong side of Friday this morning. It didn’t help that I went to bed a little pissed off. I am tired of the ringing in my ear and the significant lack of hearing. Not to mention those two things aren’t improving with the copious amounts of antibiotics I am taking. *note to self: call doctor* I am sick of the sound of my own voice. It is so fricken loud in my head from all the backed up gunk. I spent yesterday making chocolates. Not something that normally makes me angry and yesterday was no exception. I did have a phone call yesterday that irritated me a bit, but in general what is killing me slowly is the child and the rocking.
Now you’re thinking oh great… here she’s going to go on about the rocking again. Not really. Ok, maybe just for a little bit. About every 2 months the rocking finally grates on my very last nerve. Just when I get used to it, that urge to make him stop kicks back in. You would think I would learn after 8 months there is no stopping this kid. I’ve had validation from nearly every source out there that it a)isn’t hurting him and b) is just his thing. I accept that. I live with it. But in reality is drives. me. insane.
Last night I made a vain attempt to keep him from rocking. I thought I had done it too. I rocked him in the chair, put him to bed sleepy and told him no rocking. Of course the minute I stepped out of the room he started in. I quietly went in and rolled him onto his side and told him not to rock. I left, and a few minutes later he started again. I quietly went back in and told him again. This is where things changed a bit. Normally he will look back and whisper, “no rocking.” Last night he laid on his stomach and quietly pouted. It wasn’t a cry, but it was a frustrated, “lady I can’t sleep unless I rock.” I comforted him and left the room. About 5 minutes later I hear him rocking again. I just let him do it.
My poor sweet baby. His little brain is so ingrained with this that he just can’t not do it. It kills me to think about what his life was like prior to joining our home. I get shivers when he shakes and screams every time we go into a public toilet. My heart breaks a little to see him rocking and weaving in his bed. I know there is nothing I can do about his past. I can only make new memories and comfort him to the best of my ability. I am doing the best job I know how, but it is still difficult.
So when I awoke to the trusty husband’s alarm going off at 6:00 this morning I was already unhappy. Then to hear my child rocking at 6:30 just irritated me even more. When I once again noticed the ringing in my ear and my lack of hearing… I was set for one crappy Friday.