Perfectionist Rehab

I love you no matter what,

Even in moments where anything but,

Softness comes easily, and words elusive,

Agony and frustration diffusive.

They say the larger you become, so do the woes,

Simpler were the days I rocked to and fro,

With you swaddled tight, fighting a nap,

Mind-numbing exhaustion – relentless trap.

The days stayed the same, and moments lingered,

Twining myself around your little finger,

Piece by piece, we gently set down,

Constants that soothed your every frown.

The path is obscured, totally blind –

Ever reminded of what we left behind.

We’re different now than we began,

We do together whatever we can,

But the string between us grows ever longer,

I like to imagine it also becomes stronger.

Today you were grumpy and actually mean,

For the first time that I have ever seen.

What a gift that you’re growing, but still the shock,

Of watching you destroy the picture-tied rock,

Because I didn’t follow your bidding,

Retaliation you felt fitting.

Recognizing you were probably just tired,

Prompted me to prep for your nightly retire.

When you were tiny, maybe until two,

Compulsively you would do,

Any impulse, you couldn’t step back,

You had to follow through with every act.

Now you are older, and I realize,

Choices are something to recognize.

It’s not about the break, it’s not severe,

It’s the subliminal that appears.

A choice – retaliate,

Forceable checkmate.

It’s challenging to put this into words,

Right and wrong now blurred –

I knew in that moment you wanted to get me back,

Since my actions deviated from your track.

I sent you to bed, freshly clean,

Still surprised that you tried to be mean.

Not truly upset, but it was clear,

You wanted to take something from me dear,

Just because I said no,

Consequences I had to show.

I thought it was reasonable, you clearly were tired,

You ran, played, adventured, and perspired,

This whole weekend was to connect with you,

And your little brother (who’s only two).

It’s true that your shadow is impulsive,

The same way you were compulsive,

Hitting and slapping and biting away,

Pulling and throwing every day,

And now that you’re older you see,

How very exhausting it can be.

Now when you act out, it differs,

Hormones are beginning to whisper.

I wish I felt certain in my actions,

But per usual I can’t find traction,

Second-guessing every choice I make,

Terrified of every mistake.

The Mother – I must teach you,

But clearly, I have issues.