Yeah, probably not a good idea. Especially if he is 18 months old, definitely not a good idea. But still, there are times when my greatest desire is to communicate my displeasure to him with something water filled and porcelain.
Does that make me a bad parent?
No, I haven’t done it…
Will it be ok when he’s a teenager?
No, never mind.
Anyway, I’ve been reading Welcome to My Brain [dot] Net for some time now. She is a friend from college. She’s grown into a wonderful mother, with such great advice. She’s been blessed with RAD issues. Errr… perhaps not the best way to say that.
She and her husband have adopted children with RAD issues. Yeah, that is probably a better way to say that.
She is my hero when it comes to parenting? I read her blog consistently, because it reminds me how blessed I am to be a part of the family I’m in. I’m sure she feels the same way, completely blessed in her situation.
I’ve found an unexpected side affect to reading about such awesome parenting. I’m embarrassed to ask questions, or for help, when it comes to my own parenting experience.
“Surely, I have no problems that come even close to that of other families!”
That’s a true statement.
“My kid is wonderful compared to <insert just about any name of any kid in town>.”
Yep, I feel that way. I can’t begin to tell you how truly blessed I feel.
But, that doesn’t help me figure out how to be a better father. For instance, we are trying to teach him to not throw things, nor act out by slapping (literally, anything that is within reach) when we tell him, “No, do not throw <insert object>.” He looks at me, gives me just about the most disdainful look I’ve ever beheld, and slaps (Palm-Heel strike anyone?) the coffee table. I’m not sure, but I think he may have also stamped a foot as well. The little brat toot.
So, for those that have made it successfully through the pre-two years, any advice?
p.s. I gain more respect for my mother every day. It’s a miracle that she let me live/kept me alive into adulthood.