Out

O is for out. As in out of control. I don't like to feel out of control. Does anyone, really? I know toddlers hate it, that's for sure. But it's not a fun feeling. I especially don't like feeling out of control with my child and I don't mean like I can't control him or I can't control myself around him. I mean when other people are playing the "in charge" person of the moment. Even if it's my husband. It drives me nuts and it's all I can do to bite my tongue and not scream out "You're doing it wrong!!!" I especially can't stand it when other people are (justifiably) letting him be out of control, like when they stand their ground because he wants to do something like chop his fingers off with a knife while we're cooking dinner and they say no so he's throwing a fit. I just want to sweep him up in my arms, give him kisses and throw dagger glares at the offending adult. How dare you make my baby mad!!! I however feel no compunction whatsoever about letting him bawl his eyes out or stamp his feet to stumps if I am the one laying down the law. He could go on all day in a fit of righteous indignation and I wouldn't feel a thing. Perhaps I sound unreasonable, maybe even a little kooky, but I figure I've earned it. I do spend the most time with him, right? I am the one who knows him better than everyone else, right? Why shouldn't everyone else parent like I do when it comes to my kid?

O is also for out of the loop. I am soon to have my second child and yet I feel like it's the first time because I am hoping to avoid a C-section. I hate feeling like even though I've already birthed a child I am still not a full fledged mother because I skipped that one crucial experience of pushing out a watermelon. I am not part of the club. I'm on the fringes. I have yet to join the legions of battle weary mothers who can claim "I have suffered pain indescribable!" I don't feel I have earned my stripes. So here's to hoping. That's a strange thing to hope for, isn't it?