“I Hate You, Mommy”
My son told me he hated me the other day and it sliced right
through my heart. He was having one of his meltdowns over whatever he was
melting down over-probably not wanting to take a bath or not wanting to go to
bed or clean up his toys... the usual. Anyway, there he was, melting down,
screaming, crying, throwing a fit and there I was standing there, begging for
him to stop.
"Please, honey, just please relax." The
things I usually say as I picture myself on a deserted island with a book in my
hands and no boat to rescue me in sight.
"NO. I WON'T RELAX BECAUSE I. HATE. YOU.
MOMMY!"
Well, those words crashed a huge tsunami over my deserted island
and I nearly drowned in my horror and sadness.
"You what?!"
I watched my 4 year olds face turn bright red with anger and
embarrassment mixed in one, but I had to give it to him, he didn't give in and
cower down from my shrill tone.
"I said I hate
you, Mommy!" Then he proceeded to cry and scream even more than he
was before he declared his aversion to me and my parenting.
Hate me? I thought. How could this child hate me when I do
literally every single thing in the world for him?
That's not even an overstatement when I think about it and I used
to not have enough appreciation for mothers, fathers, guardians, and parents
before I became one.
I gave birth to this screaming, yelling, tantruming,
meltdown-having child. I take him to therapies and make sure he has all the
resources he needs. I worry about him 24/7 365 days in my sleep, while I'm
awake. He's the first thing I think of when I wake up, the last thing I think
about before I go to sleep. He's what I base my life around; my school, my
work, my (now non-existent) friendships and relationships, my shopping, my
relaxation, my showers, my number 1s and 2s in the bathroom that he accompanies
me to! I pray for him every night and I thank God for him every day and when he
cries I cry, when he laughs I laugh. I take the hits, the punches, the
scratches, the bites that he gives to me when throwing said tantrums and
meltdowns. I take the stares and whispers when he has his meltdowns in public
and I take people telling me I don't know how to handle my child because they
don't understand Autism, let alone high functioning Autism. I've given up
friendships and graduations and countless night sleeps, none that I would have
asked for back. All for my child, at the small age of 4 years old, to say that
he hates me over something so minuscule that I can't even remember what it was.
Writing it out, it sounds dramatic and reading it back it will
definitely sound considerably more over the top, but my feelings were
absolutely crushed in that moment and I felt as if I had lost the parenting
game that day. I felt like crawling up into a little ball in my bed and calling
it quits. I felt like I should have passed the imaginary adult torch to my son
and said, "here, you do it if you think it's so damn easy," and then
just got in my car and drove away but, as aforementioned, he is four and would
have just opted for M&Ms and Teen Titans Go! as a steady schedule for the
rest of the week.
I think what got to my heart so much wasn't that he actually said
those words because, let's face it, I knew it would happen eventually. I think
I was just surprised by how young he started with it. I tried to stop myself
and wonder, is it normal for a 4 year old to say that they hate their mother?
Is is part of his meltdowns and disability with ASD/Aspergers? Is it a boy
thing? But maybe it's just a my son thing and maybe every kid is different in
when they start to feel comfortable in expressing their feelings towards their
parents.
My son eventually calmed down, his face went back to its normal
color and his tears dried up. I didn't take his words to heart and, of course,
I didn't hold it against his tiny self. I'm sure one day, when he's a dad,
he'll understand.
