Well, it was one of “those” weekends with the kids. Some of those days when nothing is going right, and the patience/tolerance level is just not there.
Friday was one of those days when my skills as a mother were questionable. It was hot, I was tired, plans did not work out. Ryley couldn’t seem to behave for longer than five seconds if his life had depended on it. I really hate days like those. I had no patience whatsoever. All that I know about parenting and discipline went right out the window when Ryley kicked Ethan in the chest (no damage done, thankfully), was spinning in circles laying on the floor just to keep his feet in Ethan’s path so E would fall down, was throwing things down the stairs and over the railing at the top of the stairs, completely undid my made bed, and threw clean laundry ALL OVER my bedroom. The yelling match and battle of wills began. Have I said before that Ryley is stubborn? I’ll never forget my joy when half an hour after Ryley was born, the neo came into my room and told me that Ryley was a feisty fighter, already trying to pull the vent tubes out, and that it was a good thing for a preemie to be. Fast forward nearly five years and that same fiestiness can become the bane of my existence some days. Time out after time out, I finally sent him to his room. He knows when I say “YOU’RE DONE” that he had better make himself scarce, quickly.
When you spend 93 days in the NICU, your child battling for life, you swear you will treasure every minute of their life, you will never take one minute for granted. I still treasure his life, don’t take a minute for granted, but there are times he challenges me so much, and in my eyes, I fail miserably. I struggle so much with my belief in myself as a mother. Then I come here. I am reminded that I was chosen by God to be Ryley’s mother, to be the mother of a preemie. It’s still hard, but I am somehow restored.
Ryley started coughing again yesterday. After the first five months of this year, and finally being diagnosed with reactive airway disease, I go on high alert whenever I see his nose start to get stuffy and runny. He got a dose of albuterol this morning, and off to school he went with his inhaler. My phone rang while I was at lunch, and I was sure it was his preschool calling to come pick him up due to his cough being out of control once again. Thankfully, it wasn’t school. So now I’ll hold my breath for a couple of days, and pray this cough doesn’t get worse, for the fifth time this year.
And on an ending good note, day number 9 without an accident (Grace on the other hand has had two in the past two days, which is extremely out of character for her!). So YAHOO for Ryley! Pray that we have finally turned the last corner on his potty training.