Say Hello to Mother Goose

Why isn't there a Chicken Soup for the Big Sister's Soul?
Lord knows I could use one.

They never told me siblinghood was so difficult. I wasn't to know it would be so close to the bones of motherhood. So fraught with love that I would sit myself down every time I yelled at him and think I was terrible.
That if he didn't eat, I'd worry he was sickening for something.

Oh and the self-blame.

I screamed at him today and daid he was slow...it's all my fault if he gets a complex.

Why didn't I make him sleep in the afternoon, no wonder if he was sleepy and hardly ate dinner!

Every meal, all I tell him is eat! eat! eat! When he grows up, what will he remember...a sister who fed him all five food-groups or one who heard him out and talked back?

Nutrients or good conversation
Discipline~ a little, a lot, too damn much???
Let him get out there and figure things out for himself while I stop breathing till he's home safe...or just let go.

Yes, it's funny. I'm twenty-two and I'm raising a child. He isn't orphaned or neglected...I just do it because anything less is too little. I berate myself for not doing it right by him. For screaming too much. Saying too little. Not answering his endless questions.
I make funny faces sometimes. Go to pick up his report card and talk back to his teacher. Fall asleep and wake up too late to get his homework done.
What's really amazing is...that he never questions it..