Selfish girl.

So yesterday, I realized how selfish I really am, and it was such a horrible feeling. 

Benjamin is just over the line of being completely functional, and sometimes I get annoyed by the small things in our life that are inconvenient.  For example, he has a few OCD tendencies, and nothing major (yet) like the typical hand washing or turning on lights over and over.  Most of them are actually quite common, and apply to lots of neurotypical children as well.  So sometimes they annoy me, and especially so if I'm tired, or hungry, or thirsty, or if the sky is blue, or... ha, no, it's not that bad, but it's hard being pregnant and having a baby that is getting increasingly heavy and still wakes up two or three times a night on most nights.  So my patience gets thin, and as with any child, patience is something that you really do not want to run out of at any time.  And on top of it, I had contractions yesterday afternoon, so that made it a bit worse.  (I'm fine.) 

When I say that we've been potty training for years, I'm not kidding.  He gets better, he gets great, he's at rock bottom again, he gets better, etc.  It's just like anything that we've ever had to do with him, but since it's affecting us more, it's a major issue these days.  And he's turning five in a few months, and just thinking about that makes me cry and grieve all over again.  I hate birthdays, I do.  I'm not some crazy "I hate parties" Mom, I promise.  It's just that parties bring birthdays front and center, and sometimes it's just easier for me not to acknowledge that he's another year older.  It's hard to explain to people who have "normal" children because these types of thoughts just never enter their minds.  They're usually worrying about their kid being able to read in kindergarten, and here I am, still worrying about him using the potty.  Textbooks will tell you it's just part of the grieving process, and I do agree with that... sometimes it's just harder than others.

So I'm sitting there, irritated with him, and I remember that he's so small.  And he's only small once.  And he might not ever be completely potty trained.  One day he will grow up, and I don't want him to remember the irritation in my voice.  He knows it irritates me, and he is trying... some things are just harder for him, and he knows that without having it explained to him, which brings up a whole lot of other issues about self-realization that he's different.

And this rarely happens, but I wished my life different... and it's such a horrible feeling.  Benjamin is such a sweet child, and God gave him to me specifically.  So basically, I wished that God had given him to someone else.  Given my Benjamin to someone else.  I was heart broken for myself for even thinking of such a selfish notion.

I am reminded that all children are a gift.