Picture this, several years ago, my 4 year old son comes running into the living room sobbing for, what I am well aware is, no reason! The scene progresses as such:
4 year old Raul: (Crying. For no reason.)
31 year old Me: (Annoyed) Why are you crying? Are you hurt?Raul: (Still crying) He hurt my feelings!
Me: (Here it comes. The 7 words I will never live down…)
WE DON’T HAVE FEELINGS IN THIS HOUSE!
My youngest child is what my best friend refers to as a
“Sensi”. He’s “sensitive”. Translation: He cries over EVERYTHING. My best
friend, who is also my cousin, apparently completely understands what it is
like to be so “sensitive”. I, on the other hand, do not. If I’m physically hurt, I don’t cry (not
never, but it’s rare). I know as a child, I did on occasion if the pain was
horrible. But if someone hurts my
feelings, I shrug it off or get pissed. I do NOT cry. I am not trying to be
any sort of superhero, but seriously, I didn’t even cry during child birth. No
screams. No curses. I did not blame my husband (either of them). I closed my
eyes, held onto the bed rail, breathed deep and dealt with it. Now, granted, I
had it easy. My labors were all under 4 hours. God bless those of you who
endured 8+ hours of labor. I couldn’t imagine how horrible. But seriously, I
don’t think I have patience for that long of labor anyway. It all circles back
to me being a complete a-hole about feeling feelings.
But my darling, sweet, caring, sensitive baby boy wears his feelings on his sleeve, as does my
teenage daughter. She’s also what Dena, my bff/cousin, calls a “sensi”. They
cry a lot. My daughter cries about random things, and the older she gets, the
more she cries because she is trying to be independent and we are holding her
down. Or because she is a teenager and as we are all WELL aware, she knows
everything. My baby boy, now he’s a good listener, and isn’t rebellious most of
the time. But when he acts up, he is too busy having meltdowns to realize he’s
not really even in trouble; not until he has the meltdown, at which time my
head explodes and I want to wring his neck.
He doesn’t even let you finish a sentence. He hears what he perceives is a
“no” and automatically the waterworks begin and he runs off down the hall
crying.
That’s his coping mechanism for having an a-hole mom who
says regularly, “No one wants to hear you crying! Go away.” Here’s the things I cannot wrap my head
around…WHY? I am always asking him why he is crying about things. Recently he
walks in sobbing. Here was my response, which as you will learn about me, is
typical of me:
Me: Why the hell are you crying?
Raul: I can’t hear the sound on the TV.Me: (Rolls eyes) And is crying about it helping you hear it better?
Raul: (Stunned and shocked at the realization that it is not) No.
Me: Did you ever bother to think of saying, “Hey mommy, could you please help me”? Turn your tears off (I say those words VERY often).
Raul: (Wipes eyes) Mommy, could you please help me?
So
I go to the TV, fix a cord and viola! It works. I am a freakin’ magician.
Magically his face has changed from sorrow and despair to a regular smile. I
adore THAT face. He’s a cutie-butt and KNOWS it. When he is being cute, he’s
ADORABLE! I may be an a-hole, but I love
my kids with all my heart. They are, and it’s not because I’m biased, some of
the cutest kids in existence. I did a great job! Not only are they cute, but
they are smart. And their sole survival ability is that they ARE cute and smart,
because otherwise, I may have had to end them. (Oh c’mon, Bill Cosby said it
too. I wouldn’t ACTUALLY kill my children, I’m not one of those psychos. But
they have made me crazy enough to speak it out loud! You’ve all thought it at
one point or another. Don’t be so shocked that I had the balls to say it.)
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