Safa means tranquil, serene, calm…I try

I am very disturbed. Of course my son has moved on but I hope I haven’t totally shaken his trust in me. A few nights ago…let me back up a bit.

Over the past several weeks (maybe months) he’s been coming into our room more frequently several times throughout the night/overnight. Initially, he said he needed to use the bathroom and the one closest to his room was too dark. So, I would turn on my nightstand lamp while he used our bathroom. Afterwards, he would whine about wanting to sleep with us. Most of the time I’d say no and walk (he just came out of his room as I’m typing at 11:42pm) him back to his room, sit with him for a bit and tuck him in. It progressed to him crying about being scared and any other excuse under the sun. My husband and I didn’t help the situation b/c as the pregnancy has progressed and after his 3rd awakening, I am too tired to walk him back downstairs to his room and my husband sleeps like a log and when I make him take the boy back to bed, he is way too harsh and my son winds up crying even more. So, we let him sleep with us sometimes.

He’s always had a nightlight in his room and now we put one in his bathroom. Here’s the thing - he will wake up, use his bathroom and still come up to my room asking to sleep with us! I am very firm now even though he has a plethora of excuses and wakes me up 2-3x throughout the night.

OK…now that the backstory is out of the way. A few nights ago, he woke up before I’d gone to bed. I put him on the toilet and tried to tuck him in. He cried about there being a bee in his room - another one of his many avoidance tactics. I told him I wasn’t buying it and made him get back in bed. About an hour later, after I’d gone to bed, he came up to my room crying about a bee flying around his room. I walked him back to his room, turned on the light sat with him for 10 minutes so he could see he had a bad dream and there really wasn’t any bees in his room. About 40 minutes later he woke me up again and I was livid. I swatted his bottom, threatened to spank him if he got out of the bed again, walked him back to his room, and forced him to bed. I reminded him that he was 4 and had to be a big boy. I also reminded him that he needed to ask God to also protect him through the night…as he’s a better protector than me. He went back to sleep. Would you believe at 3:30am he came back to my room crying so hard and saying that a bee was on his neck? I had to really control my anger as everytime I turn over my body is a ball of pain. I was worn out by this time and woke my husband, told him that the boy was obviously having a terrible dream and would have to sleep with us. Hubby grumbled something and we all went to sleep together.

Yesterday I’m vaccuming the hallway outside of son’s room. What do I see laying in the corner dead…or barely alive? You guessed it, I HUGE bumblebee…the furry, fuzzy yellow and black kind. I almost cried I felt so bad. My son was still asleep so when he woke up I told him I had to talk to him. He smiled and said ok. I sat him on my lap and asked if he remembered about the other night? He says, “when the bee was on my neck mommy?”. My heart breaks. I basically tell him what happened, apologize, and shower him with hugs and kisses. He was fine. I feel terrible.

I guess I am feeling like I may have left him feeling insecure and like mommy will not have his back. I am 34 and to this day I remember an experience from my childhood when I was 7. My upper lip itched, I scratched it and then proceeded to admire the new lace curtain my mom had just hung over my closet. She was sitting on my bed and thought I wiped a booger on it. I of course denied it and she didn’t believe me. I received a spanking (euphemism for a ’70’s style butt whoppin) - not because I wiped but because I lied about it. I guess I’ve forgiven her but it still makes me sore when I think about that. I just don’t want my son to have those kinds of memories of me. Anyway, he’s 4 and hopefully he’ll forget this ever happened in a few years.

I took my son to his 4 year well-child visit. This is the routine annual check-up. He got a couple of shots (heart-breaking wails) and a rudimentary vision screen. They had the letter chart and he just had to call out the letters..nevermind, you know how it works. Anyway, he appeared to have some trouble seeing from further away. The doctor casually suggested we take him to an opthamologist even though it is probably nothing. I didn’t schedule the appt for like 2 weeks. When I asked my husband to take him, he agreed but not before expressing his feelings that we were wasting our time and a co-pay on an eye doctor when the boy is fine.

Hmph..he calls me from the eye doctor to say that my precious 4 year-old is near-sighted and needs a pretty strong prescription to see farther away. Unlike reading glasses, he will need to wear these all of the time…except when playing sports. This may sound silly but when we went last week to fit him for his glasses (which will be ready in a few days God-willing), he looked so cute! He’s also at that age where he is excited and not at all embarassed to need glasses.

My husband feels better because now he knows why he isn’t the star of his Tee-ball team!

In other news, praises to God that the pregnancy is progressing great. I had a sonogram today and the baby weighs a tad over 6lbs. They have to keep watch of the weight because of the gestational diabetes. I am ever hopeful and prayerful that I will still be able to birth at the birthing center with midwives and not at a hospital.

My job threw me a suprise shower Monday and I received some great gifts. They actually bought from my registry and even bought some of those big ticket items that are usually reserved for family! I am getting tired and ready to meet my new baby God-willing. My last day of work is next Wednesday and I can’t wait.

Meaning, ‘too much information’. I’m a very sensitive person. News stories tend to stick with me for months after the fact. There are stories that I read or saw on the news two years ago that I wish I could follow-up on. I am emotionally devastated…well at least emotionally wrought and spent if I encounter anything bad involving children - even moreso now that I am a mother.

Eventhough I live in the Washington DC area, I still read news from my home on a daily basis. I guess it makes me feel like I haven’t really left. Anyway I am reading Monday’s NY D.aily News and the story involves a guy who after celebrating his 30th birthday, goes home, drinks, gets mad when his girl’s grandmother asks him to stop drinking around the kids, and starts shooting at everyone! He is finally stopped but not before critically injuring the grandmother and killing an almost 4 year-old baby girl. Now, I teared up because I am emotional and plus my own son has just turned 4.

I decide to read the NY P.ost afterwards. BAD CHOICE. As soon as the site opens, it shows the cop carrying the little girl in his arms outside with her little jeans and undies pulled around her thighs. The cop looks anguished and that was all it took. Man I balled like a newborn baby… I was totally undone.

Why do newspapers print this kind of stuff? I mean, ok, to sell papers. But at what cost? It’s too much information. If I was little Tajmere’s mother, I would hate to know that this photo was printed of my baby. My heart just goes out to them.

The thing about it…I can’t just see these stories as “stories”. I don’t just move on to the next headline. I’ve always been like that. When I was in college, a little girl was abducted. I guess this was in ‘93. I still remember her name and can you believe in ‘99, 5 years after I graduated, I contacted the local news station to find out if she was ever found? I’m in DC and this was upstate NY!

Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones or I may be genuinely irking my husband to death but we’ve been having the most serious battles over the dumbest things lately.

Case in point…the bug. A big bug/beetle/waterbug found it’s way into the bathroom of our bedroom. My husband killed it. It’s final resting place being on the floor between the wall and the side of the toilet. When it rains, we notice these bugs a lot in the basement. If I kill it, I’ll dispose of it. So of course I expect the same.

This dude will kill them, and when I (or anyone) walks in the basement’s laundry room, it’s like trying to avoid landmines. I’ll usually get them up. But I have to take a stand! Keep in mind I am TERRIFIED of roaches and other vermin (tramautized as a child…’nother post) but I do what needs to be done. I mean I couldn’t muster up enough courage to put a nice pic on this post of a roach/bug.

So, we had a blow-out arguement b/c no one is picking up this bug. I have trained my eyes away from the area so I don’t see it when I enter the bathroom. His argument is that since I’ve become pregnant, my penchant for housekeeping has gone WAY down and since he has taken up a lot of the slack, the least I could do is sweep the bathroom (read sweep up that roach)!

I’m sorry, it’s been there about 2 weeks and no one has made a move to pick it up. I don’t ask him to pick up after me so why should he go around killing bugs and leaving the carnage for others to get?

Believe me, it may sound funny but last week the argument escalated to us being real nasty and harsh with one another….I was even brought to tears by frustration! What should I do?