Pushing Forward

Mother and Child, by Boris Novak, borrowed from: Here

As a single mom i don't have the luxury to wallow. I need to, and have to, push forward no matter what the circumstances.

We lost two of our three cats last week. The older, a mean, cranky man, who only tolerated me, and was the passive king of the house, had been with me since college. He was going to turn 10 in November. The gray, little princes was 7 and she was lil' A's cat. She adored him and insisted on guarding him all night, and followed him everywhere he went. Whenever he cried she would rush to him, bristled up and prepared to fight off whatever is bothering him. They died suddenly, unexpectedly, and 3 days apart.

They defined an era in my life. I got the old guy but a few months after college. He was there for me through my marriage and separation and offered me comfort I could not draw from anywhere else. The princess, adaptable, and the alpha, was the first pet lil' A would truly bond with.

I have not had time to cry, to mourn, to fall apart. The circumstances were terrible, gruesome, and sadly, I had to keep it together for my little boy. Every morning when he wakes up he searches for his little kitty. Every night when I go to sleep, I feel the empty spot on my legs where my old man cat would sleep at night. How do you explain death to someone who lives almost entirely in the moment? How do I tell lil' A that they are not coming back?

Pushing though all this, I have to put on a brave face. I have to be able to go out and play soccer, to giggle and wrestle, to give him the feeling of security, to make him feel everything is going to be okay.

Meanwhile, he is challenging me at every chance he gets. His sense of identity, much like mine, kicking into gear. The 'I don't want to' stage is kicking my butt.  The changes at home, the cats passing, communication deteriorating with M, all contribute to his behavior.

Yesterday, I had planned a wonderful evening for us. It started as planned, a hour at the park playing soccer, followed by dinner. At dinner everything deteriorated.

"I don't want to!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Squirming so as not to pee himself he refused to use the potty. Time out, soon turned into a major tantrum. Eventually, sitting on the floor with lil' A in my lap, rocking back and forth, while he cried into my neck, he looked up and told me "Momma, I want to make you cry. I want to make you mad, because I am sad."

This took me unawares. Usually the I don't want to's tend to exasperate me, make me mad and grumpy. This was one of the times I refused to let him get to me (or at least appeared so). His statement shook me up a bit.

"Why are you sad, baby?" I asked him.

"Because I don't want to be a good boy. Because I don't want to listen to mama." The bare honesty in a 3 year olds innocent face made this statement even more poignant.

"Baby, I love you no matter what. I love you when you are sad, and I love you when you are a bad boy and nothing can change that." Somehow he did not like that answer. 

I went on cautiously: "You can be a bad boy if you want to. But then you have to be in time out and be sad. Or you can be a good boy and both you and mama will be happy and we will play with your new toys and draw like I promised you." He looked at me hopeful.

"I'll be a good boy mama. Lets be happy." Yet he still refused to go potty despite his squirming getting more and more urgent. 

"Baby, I gotta go peepee." I told him, realizing it was time to get creative, "But I don't know how. Can you show me?" He looked at me amused, and walked into the bathroom. As soon as he flushed and washed his hands he ran up to me:

"Mama, I am a good boy now!"

Patience was something i never had. Its something I am learning to be better at. I want my little boy to grow up to be a good, caring person. I know these moments of testing limits, and how I deal with them, are part of how he forms his understanding of the world, of rules, of the power balance in a family. And yet, sometimes it feels like I am breaking his little, obstinate, spirit. And other times, it feels like his is breaking me.

One thing I know, he is teaching me things that only he can. Patience, love in the face of blatant obstinacy, pushing through and looking forward. I have never loved anyone enough to be able to learn these lessons with them, until now.

Then I stop and think: I am truly blessed.

Photo borrowed from: Here