Don't Know How
February 11, 1998
I am so frustrated. Marc is crying and moaning and complaining AGAIN. I hate it when he acts like this. I can't make him shut up, I can't make him listen, I can only punish him by sending him to his room and then I STILL have to listen to him cry and complain and whine.

This time FIRST he started to cry because I told him he couldn't feed the fish as a job. Then I told him we could see how he does tonight and then make up our mind. He kept crying and I sent him to his room.
Came out, had to be given simple instructions over and over and over again. Went to play in his room and then SLAMMED the door on Eddie and hurt him.
I told him to come see me. He started screaming and had to be told several times to be quiet and come here. Still screaming as he sat down. "1 -2- " and he stopped screaming. No tears, nothing!
Pissed Pissed Pissed I am pissed. Don't know how to make this better. Sick of same old SHIT. Why should he get to do what he wants when he won't do what he is told? I am stuck and going crazy. How do I get this child to behave???
...
Marc is taking a nap in here now. I told him if he took a nap, then I didn't have to hear him cry and scream anymore. "I'm not tired!" he whined.
I know, and I feel bad about napping him when he's not tired, but what else can I do?
*Footnote
Reading this makes me feel terrible. I don't want to put it online. I'm embarrassed of what was going on in my head. I only hope that MAYBE mothers who are in healthy relationships with their spouses have days like this, too. And if those lucky ladies do NOT have days like this, then this day needs to be documented to show more side-effects of abusive relationships.
One of my greatest fears is that my behavior negatively affects my boys. I guess looking back on this journal entry makes that fear real. By staying in this relationship, I have set a bad example for my boys in part because I don't always separate my frustrations with my relationship and myself from my frustrations as a mother. My boys have always deserved better.
On this day my oldest son was four years old. We did have a handful of bad days. Most were good, but days like this did happen. I would have rather napped myself, but the boys were too young for me to sleep while they played.
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