I am a pretty peaceful guy, relatively patient and understanding—mild, you might even say—but on Christmas Day I found myself in an angry and resentful mood, all directed at the baby. First, I woke to find her at my bedside, tearing the cover off a 1960’s edition of “Europe on $5 a Day” that a friend in Istanbul had sent me. Later, after changing her pants in my bedroom (because Jean’s cousin and boyfriend were occupying the baby’s room), I accidentally kicked a bedpost and broke a toe.
Neither of these incidents were truly Sasha’s fault. At just 1 year of age, she’s not responsible for anything she does. It’s not as if she knows the difference between right and wrong and has chosen the dark path—she has no conception of either, only of what she’s doing at the moment and (maybe) what Mommy and Daddy are doing, too. How can I get angry at her when there’s not really even a “her” to be angry at?
Which just makes it ever more frustrating—and which, scarily, bends the anger in a strange direction. For, if I can’t be angry at the choice she’s made, I then have to be angry at her very existence. Which again isn’t her fault—it’s mine and her mother’s.
And so what does one do with this anger? It’s a horrible, ongoing feedback loop: anger at someone who can’t be responsible becomes frustration, becomes anger again, and so on. Where does it finally get released? (Paging Ted Ross!)
On some level, it doesn’t have to. From the earliest age, I’ve been well-trained by children’s TV shows such as “Sesame Street” to eliminate anger from my life—or rather, to deal with anger in various ways, by counting down from 10 or breathing deeply. I don’t ever remember watching kids’ TV or movies in which someone is justifiably angry and expresses that anger in a righteous way. The angry ones are always the bad guys, the dalmatian-killers or Lords of the Sith. Bert (of ___ & Ernie) is at most exasperated. Even Oscar the Grouch is only ever grouchy and bad-tempered, and in a whingeing, self-pitiful way.
Yes, it’s good to control one’s anger, and when Sasha’s achieved enough sentience to understand that, I’m sure it’s what I’ll teach her. But anger controlled is not anger eliminated. What are kids supposed to do with such emotions? And more importantly, what am I?
Take it out on anything but the kid or the spouse. It’s real and there isn’t much you can do about it, believe me, I understand. Just remove yourself from the situation, put the kid in a crib and let her cry if you have to (which moves the guilt part up some very tall log curve for extra fun). See a therapist. Get some Prozac–seriously. I never found anything good to do about it.
It goes away, however, when you get more sleep (if you’re not getting enough, remember sleep deprivation is considered torture, and there is no defense for it) and the child grows up, just a little. It’s hard, in fact, it’s a living hell; we dads understand.
Oh, Adolphus, I’m utterly incapable of taking it out on anyone, don’t worry! Decades of pop culture have ensured that. Sleep’s not a problem, either: Sasha’s down 11 hours overnight, thank goodness. Maybe the anger’s just bugging me more lately since the weather’s bad and I can’t go running (never mind the broken-but-fast-healing toe) and dispel it that way?
But the thing is, Jedi training aside, I do believe anger has its uses, but I’m not sure what they are, how to express it, or how to teach the kid how to either. Long ago, I used to beat the living hell out of cardboard boxes with a stick. Maybe it’s time to stock up again.
I totally understand where you’re coming from, and what you’re dealing with. In raising my son, who is 8, and with Autism, frustration levels reach new highs 🙂 I really have to focus on my anger levels, and try to regulate it, as not to blow up.
Being angry or hating your child is completely normal and not often talked about.
I have sometimes given my child the evil eye or middle finder behind his back or mouthed F.O. and felt very angry at him. You could give him your attention for 48 days straight and when you tell him enough is enough he demands 72 more days and never seems to see your point of view.
I verbalize this to my b/f (who is shocked that I would admit to it). I find that telling my b/f helps me get it off my chest.
Next thing you know, your kid does or says something magical that tears your heart asunder and you can’t imagine loving them any more than you do.
Kids grow up fast so I think it’s best to try to enjoy them as much as you can while they are young. I’m sure one day I will miss his antics at home once he’s moved on with his life. He is very entertaining and things get so much easier every year that goes by.
Every night at bedtime the rule is, once he’s put to bed, I don’t talk anymore. That’s it, I’m done. I don’t care if he stays awake until midnight, I’m not chatting anymore after 9:30 pm.
Re Hating your baby.
It’s up and then it’s down.
Get used to it.
My kid’s mom.
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