Rough with a capital R

oh my goodness.

some days.

some days are Rough with a capital R.

days where the day starts with tears.  so many tears.  tears because I turned the light off and Cole wanted to do it.  then more tears because I opened the door to bring the dogs inside and he wanted to do it.  then more tears because I refused to help Cole put on his pants.  then even more tears because I helped him put on his shoes - "COLE TURN! COLE TURN! NO HELP!".  then tears because I finally got fed up and told him I was going upstairs and he could come up when he was ready.  then more tears (wailing "MAMA! MAMA! HUG! KISS!" because he KNOWS how to make me feel really guilty about not going in to help him) because he wanted me to carry him up the stairs instead of just holding his hand.

uh-huh.  this is all before 7 am, people.  our day is JUST getting started.

Sometimes, I just have to walk away for a moment.  it's all the UNREASONABLENESS.  It's the incredible vacillation between wanting to be as independent as a twelve year old, then as dependent as a one year old.  And I have no idea which its going to be.

I'm over here like, can you maybe wear a different hat for each age you're going to act?  So I know if I'm talking to the twelve year old or the one year old? 

It's a little bit like walking on eggshells.

I'll flush the toilet and it will turn Cole into a screaming, crying mess.  How DARE I flush my own pee!  Don't I know how much that MEANS to him?  So I find myself asking permission for every single action:

"It's time to let the dogs out.  Would you like to do it or should I?" 

"What do you think should happen with your light?"

"Are you going to flush the potty or am I?"

"The toothpaste is really hard to squeeze onto the toothbrush, but you can try if you'd like."

And then listen to the sobs when I forget and accidently let the dogs in.  Or else put the dogs BACK out just so Cole can let them in.

We've been working on "taking turns".  "Oh no, I'm sorry buddy.  I turned the light off this time, but it can be your turn next time, ok?"  Sometimes that flies and sometimes it doesn't.

I know I should be grateful for this stage and all his newfound independence, blah blah blah.  It's awesome that he's now old enough to truly help out - I just wish it came with an instruction manual.

So if you need me, I'll be over here pulling my hair out and asking Cole's permission before every bite of food I take.  

It's a good thing he's so cute.