I miss going to the bathroom alone.... #parenting

What do you miss from the time before you were a parent? 

There are several things for me.
Well, maybe a lot of things.

A few pop into my mind right away...

For one, I miss taking time to actually taste my food at a restaurant instead of constantly digging snacks and sippy cups and crayons and toys out of my bag while I scarf whatever edible concoction is placed in front of me so we can dash out the door before we hit the child meltdown zone. 

I miss waking on a weekend to see an 8 (or greater) as the first number on the clock. Even a 7 is a rare sight on the morning clock these days. It is sad when a 7:22 Saturday wake-up equates to "sleeping in". Way, waaaaaay back in the day, I remember thinking that ESPN's College Game Day program was on a bit too early on Fall football Saturdays..... it starts at noon. 

I also miss going to the bathroom all my myself. Seriously. I would like to have a couple quiet moments in the bathroom to do what I need to do without an extra body in there. These days, I have a toddler shadow who gets into absolutely everything. In the moment it takes me to try to pee, I take away the toilet brush (this week, he seems to think it is a big hairbrush), roll up at least twenty-two squares of toilet paper that he happily unrolled onto the floor, and pry little chubby hands from my bare legs.

He flushes the toilet before I am done. He plays in the trash can. He tries to climb into the tub and gets frustrated that he can't quite get a leg all the way over.  If I lock him out, my bathroom tasks are serenaded by a screeching wail that could frighten an angry velociraptor. This is paired with frantic door pounding. 

It's no wonder that I generally head to the bathroom the moment I get home from dropping him at his Monday daycare or the church preschool!

Bathroom activities are not a team sport.


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Linking up to Mama Kat's writer's workshop today! 

Step it up a notch

I am a human, a woman, and both a working and stay-at-home mother. I could not survive the hustle of real life if it all had to be perfect. “Good enough is enough” is my mantra. Cleaning the house? Chores? Dolling myself up with hair and makeup? You bet - good enough is absolutely fine.

When it comes to improving my inner self, however, I rarely settle for good enough. I am in a constant state of wonder, of questioning, of change. I think to myself, how can I be better?

As a mom to an almost 4-year old (who gives me a run for my money in the brains department), I have vast room for improvement. I need to keep an even, non-emotional tone. I need to work on my patience. I need to let loose and play once in a while, even if it makes a mess. I need to compliment her efforts more often, instead of only reprimanding her problem moments.

Our children model their behaviors on ours. Have you ever seen Nanny 911? Supernanny? These parenting experts never adjust the kids… they fix the parents. I am thankful and proud for the amazing little girl we have raised so far. She is a joy to travel with, she behaves in restaurants, she is a quiet listener in school, and she has a genuine desire to make us happy. But she is a preschooler – she has an attention span of approximate two-point-five minutes and everything, from dressing to getting in the car, takes exponentially longer than I think it should. And now, she gets impatient with me sometimes. She uses a short tone of voice. She questions my rules. And when she does these things, I can see how it mimics exactly what she hears on the other side.

I am mom and she is child, I get this. But I do wish her a calm, happy, balanced life. I will never be perfect, but I can always step it up a notch. Every human on earth has something (several things) that could stand improvement. If a few personal improvements can make my daughter a better mommy one day, then I am all for it.

I just have to take a breath and remember them when I’m completely annoyed.
And that's the hardest part, isn't it?

Getting creative with bedtime issues

Every now and then, I come up with a pretty good parenting idea. Today? I am quite proud of my "bedtime activities chart."

You see, we have a bedtime issue.
A classic three-year-old "I don't want to stop playing" issue.
And yes, we - Mom & Dad - are probably to blame.

After a busy day of work, errands, and various tasks, we enjoy the quiet of Amelia's bedroom and the extra time for some giggles. But with every new funny game we play, our precocious little daughter files it away and comes to expect it. Again and again and again each night. At this point, our bedtime routine has about twelve steps and takes forever. We can't even get a nighttime babysitter because her routine is that crazy.

Tonight, we're introducing my new creation. A chart with velcro images. A chart that allows Amelia to make her own bedtime choices. But only two of them. Each night, we will let her dictate what we play. She will select two images (books, animals, Little People, songs, etc.) and stick them to the bright pink squares.

No changing her mind. No asking to do more. She gets to select TWO activities.

I am prepared to face a few tears at first. However, I hold out hope that we can reach a good place. I want to help Amelia assert her independence by leaving the activity selection entirely in her own hands (literally). I want to help manage her expectations by focusing those decisions and consistently sticking with only two per night.

This chart was easy to make. Images from the Internet, self-stick velcro dots, some poster board, and tape. I think it's a pretty sharp idea!

Let's hope it works.

Tips for The Terribles

“The Terribles” are different for every kid (and every parent). Some are smacked in the face with terrible twos as early as 19 months. Some don’t see the wrath until 2 ½ or nearly three. Some, thinking they have magically escaped The Terribles altogether, are blindsided with a three-year-old straight out of a Chuckie movie.


My daughter fit in that second category. We suffered a serious case of The Terribles last fall, when she was around 29 months old. And let me tell you, those were three months of pure torture. I did not know what kind of crazy child I raised, and I did not know if I had what it took to continue being a mom.

Now that Amelia is three years (+ a few months) old, I have a solid grip on my parenting. We’re entering the dramatic, cry-about-everything world of a feisty girl, but I’m not scared. I faced The Terribles, and I came out on the other side! Our little family of three is still intact, and happier than ever.

I read my Twitter stream several times a day, and I know some of you are in the dark place right now. I cannot claim to be an expert (goodness knows I’ve failed many, many times), but maybe I have a tip that can help you face the dreaded Terribles.

Tip 1: Consistency, consistency, consistency. This can be a lot harder than it sounds. When you are in the midst of an all-out toddler/preschooler tantrum, panic mode can set in. The temptation to end the shrieking, flailing chaos at your feet is tremendous. But giving in? Is the worst thing you can do. If you said NO, you must stick with it at all costs. Similarly, punishment should be the same every. single. time. I was not physically capable of sitting my child in a timeout chair or even keeping her in her room. My solution? I put myself in timeout. I told her “I cannot listen to this.” I removed myself from the room. She would follow and I would sit, breathing deeply in and out, calming my own body and mind. I did this every time (er, almost… like I said, it’s so hard!). Pretty soon, she realized that she would get no attention from me until she used her words and calmed herself down too.

Fight. Fear. Guilt.

My pounding head could not withstand another moment of whining. My patience was stretched too thin, like a rubber band about sting my skin with a sudden snap. The pressure expanded in my chest; was I nearing a heart attack at age 32?



It was fall. 2010.

I was in the midst of my worst mommy moment.



Amelia was nearing 2 1/2 years old. She was having difficulty dealing with boundaries, rules. She could likely feel the stress that entered our household earlier that summer when her aunt had a bad accident and became paralyzed. Our summer was full of concerned houseguests, hospital visits, long weekend days at the rehab center. Amelia was placed in front of a movie a few times too many. She was brushed aside more often than she would like.

My daughter lashed out in anger when things didn't go her way. Rage erupted from her small body and discharged through her hands, fingernails, and teeth. I was afraid of her.

I cried. I worried. Did I do something terribly wrong to create such a monster? I had physical bruises and scratches. I was abused by my own young child.

Finally, my patience could take no more. My stress level was through the roof. One additional outburst from Amelia, and I lost my cool. I yelled. I spanked. I dumped her in her room. As she tried to escape to dig those little claws near my skin, I pushed her back. I pushed her with more force than intended. She fell backward into her room. For a moment, her rage ceased. She looked up at me with those big blue eyes, and I saw the hurt. I felt her fear. I had lost my grip on the calm Mommy voice. I let my stress level go too far. I frightened my child.

Wordless (almost) Wednesday: Contentment

Contentment: The state of being contented

Contented: Accepting one's situation or lifewith equanimity and satisfaction

Synonyms?
               Gratified.
               Pleased.
               Happy.


We are doing great these days.

    My girl is kind.
       She is smart.
          She is creative.
             (She is potty trained!)

We are finally moving past our nightmare called the terrible twos. I can only remember putting her in one timeout in the past three weeks!

Every night, Daddy and/or Mommy ask her, "did you get any timeouts today?"

Her face brightens and her eyes twinkle when she is able to exclaim, "No! No timeouts today!"

Kids crave praise. They want to make us happy.

Amelia makes me happy. Finally, I am having fun being Mommy.

*Definitions from Dictionary.com

So afraid

Sometimes I feel paralyzed with fear. With every tantrum, every expression of anger, every meltdown I see from my child, I worry. I worry that she is not normal. That she is somehow more angry than other 3-year olds in this world. I am terrified that I am not raising her right. That I am going to create a little monster who ends up to be a teenage terror.

I am afraid of her tantrums. Timeout is a punishment for me as much as it is for her - my heart races, my stress level goes through the roof. I cannot stand forcing her into her room, then running to close the gate before she prys herself free. The sound of her screaming and calling "mommy! mooooommy!" really hurts.

More than anything in this world, I want a well-adjusted, happy child. I know she will act up at times. I know she's in a stage where the world completely revolves around her wishes. But I can't stop the fear. Is she worse than other kids her age? Am I doing something totally wrong? My mommy confidence is in tatters.

I try to find that fine line between respecting her wishes and standing my ground as THE MOM. I know I need to be more consistent with her punishments. I have to change myself before I can help her leap the hurdle of this age. That's what Nanny 911 is all about, right? She never changes the kids - she changes the parenting.

We conquered the terrible twos a few months ago. It sounds like threes are going to be just as challenging.

Wish us luck (and thanks for sticking through this rambling post).

Mommy mantra

There are several people lucky enough to have an in-person relationship with my daughter.

Family, friends, and teachers. These people all love to tell me how sweet she is, how pleasant. She is always a fantastic listener at school. Always a good friend to her classmates. Always "so easy!".

While I do not deny that my girl has a real knack for caring and an amazing sweet streak, I also know that she can be very far from it.

At home, the dark side can really come out. We've had some heated arguments lately. She can be violent too - my hair is tired of getting pulled. A few days ago, she even chased me around the house trying to bite my leg.

It breaks my heart to see her with so much rage. To hear her exclaim, "Mommy, I can't stop crying!" when she has gotten over the initial anger.

Sigh... what's a mommy to do?

I feel bad for my last post. I was exhausted and angry. And my face still had a mild sting from the slap I got in the mall.

But I don't want to paint my girl to be a monster. She has a sweet heart and a truly entertaining sense of humor. And never fail, she tells me about her "no-nos" later. She confesses anything she did wrong at school. When Steve comes home, she tells him about any bodily harm she caused me that day. So somewhere in that little head she has regret. She knows what she did was wrong, but she just can't control it in the moment of frustration.

As we stepped out of the mall last night, post-incident, after practically dragging her (while crying) all the way through JC Penney, she sniffles a few times and says,

"Mommy?"

Frustrated and angry, I manage to spit out, "What is it, Amelia?"

"Mommy? Mommy... I had a great time."

I was too angry, embarrassed, and exhausted to appreciate that comment at the time. Now I think it's pretty funny.

Ugh... what I am going to do with this girl? Too feisty for her own good. But too clever and cute to lose me for very long.

I need to call DFACS on my kid

DFACS - Department of Family & Children Services

The agency that protects the economic and social well-being of families. And protects children and adults from violence - from other adults.

Which department protects the mom & dad from their child's violence?

I could worry myself sick over Amelia's behavior. Yes, she's two years old. Yes, I know tantrums are normal. I know she has difficulty handling emotions. And a serious dislike for the word "no". But Steve and I have more scratches and bruises on us than we care to count. It is unacceptable.

Today, Amelia and I were at the mall. She didn't want to leave the play area, but it was time to go. She had 5 minutes of ample warning to get psyched up to depart. Did it help? Oh NO...it did not. She threw herself on the ground and screamed. I gave her a minute, but when she didn't calm down, I picked her up and carried her out. Her response? She slapped me across the face so hard it made three people near us gasp in horror.

Two days ago, Amelia ran towards the street. Instead of stopping when we yelled to her, she laughed and kept on going. Steve picked her up and brought her inside. What did he get? A bleeding eyelid! (Yes, apparently your eyelid can bleed. And it's not pretty.)

About a week ago, Amelia pulled my hair so furiously that I was screaming in pain. Steve had to come to my rescue and pry her nasty little fingers apart.

What breaks my heart is that these are not the only examples. Amelia hits, pulls hair, and pinches on a daily basis. This behavior seems to be directed entirely at her parents (lucky us). Thank goodness she doesn't do it to kids... but I REALLY don't want to suffer anymore.

Timeout doesn't work unless we bring her to her room where she can be closed in by the gate. But to get her to timeout, we have to carry her - and suffer the wrath of those flailing arms and fingernails. And if we're in public, there is nowhere to secure her. The car, maybe - but again, flailing arms and vicious fingernails. We've begun to spank her (and explain afterwards why we had to do so, and how it's different than hitting from anger). I don't think she understands that, either. We've tried ignoring the behavior, but when 1/3 of my hair is about to be ripped from the follicles, I definitely can not ignore it.

To be fair, Amelia has her share of adorable, sweet moments. For the most part, she is a funny and energetic kid. She takes care of her stuffed animals with a gentle touch and soft voice. She does the same for me sometimes. But those moments of anger can take an otherwise wonderful day of togetherness and erase it from my mind.

I know I won't be getting any mommy-of-the-year awards. I have a lot to learn. But I try to show love and respect to Amelia at all times. I try to be consistent with my rules. Have I done something so wrong to cause this violent behavior? Or did I just manage to give birth to a bloodthirsty little monster? I'm seriously terrified that she's messed up. And even more terrified that I did something to cause it.

Is there a boarding school for 2-year olds?

Back to the basics

It's time to check in with myself.

Am I, "Balancing Mama", doing better with the balance I'm always striving to achieve?

Hmm, perhaps. But...

Amelia has thrown some major challenges my way with her extreme mood swings. I've had moments of stress so intense that part of my brain kicked into flight response. I just wanted to go far, far away. I've had moments of self-doubt, wondering if I did something wrong to create this difficult child. And I've experienced frustration all around. Frustration with Amelia for her behavior, frustration with myself for how I handle her issues, and frustration with friends and books that give advice yet cannot relate to MY child. I'm convinced that traditional methods do not apply to her personality.

I tell her no - she stares me straight in the eyes, sets her jaw in a defiant look, and does it anyway. I put her in "timeout" - she's up within seconds and fights so strongly that no person my size can keep her down. Sadly, 31 pounds of pure will can sometimes defeat me. She has such a strong will! Not unlike myself, I'm afraid. Did I do this to my mother?

So how are the three moms in me faring these days? I think, finally, after a couple weeks of terror, I'm doing better.

I am a "perfect mom" - because I'm always striving to find the answers that fit my child. I understand that she doesn't fit in a standard mold. I am trying every day to get more in tune with her feelings and her struggles for independence and self-expression. I even reached out for professional advice on how to handle her tantrums. And you know what? I think it's working. Steve and I have been blessed with a (mostly) well-behaved girl the past two days! Surely a curveball is coming my way again soon, but I'm taking it one day at a time.

I am a "happy mom" - this usually goes hand in hand with Amelia's behavior. When she is happy, I am happy. So we've had a wonderful weekend full of fun. I regained some self confidence by learning to better understand Amelia's needs and my role in her tantrums. And that is necessary for happiness. When I think I'm doing a good job and I see the joy in Amelia's bright eyes, I am definitely happy.

And I am still a "working mom" - vacation was great, but now it's time to get back down to business. There is a direct correlation between the challenges Amelia poses and the amount of work (or lack thereof) I'm able to accomplish. As she is becoming more adjusted and learning to play more independently, I am getting back into work mode. Working from home is still very difficult with a 2-year old at home. Sometimes I have to drop everything to attend to her needs. That can be pretty challenging when I've focused on a task at hand. But that is my reality as a work-from-home mama.

And I can do it. I can do all of it.
Moms are pretty tough, you know.

Mommy is taking over

One of my friends said of their parenting recently,

"We let the 'leash' out longer & longer, until we realize we have to pull it back in again. We let it out, pull it in, let it out, pull it in."

This is very true for us as well. We want to let Amelia become her own person, assert her independence, and gain confidence in her abilities. We don't want to hover and choke her with our own rules and ways of doing things. So we "let the leash out", so to speak. We allow her more and more freedoms and observe how she's doing.

Lately, it has become time to pull that leash back in again.

If it won't hurt her, let her be. It is not worth the fight.
Thus far, I have been a firm believer and consistent follower of this self-written philosophy. Amelia is two years old. If she is not about to bleed and she isn't walking too fine a line between safety and the ER, she really isn't pulled back. Several parents have told me how surprising it is that a first-time mom like me can let her go so much. I just want her to become the confident kid she deserves to be.

However, now is the time to pull on that leash a bit. She is starting to test her boundaries too much. She's become bossy and, dare I say it, a little manipulative. So now I have a new tactic - I refer to it as, tough luck, kid. Mommy is back in charge.

Amelia will not hold my hand in the parking lot at Chick-Fil-A? OK - I tell her we're getting back in the car and not having lunch. She refuses to put on shoes to play outside? Fine - I tell her I'm going outside to play all by myself. She doesn't want the particular episode of Little Einstein's I turned on for her? Great - I'll turn the TV off instead. And if she wants to cry about it? I'm much better at ignoring it these days. I used to try to talk to her and explain why, but now I give my reason ONCE and only once.

It is amazing how my new tough love works. After a week of doing this consistently, she totally understands. Would I ever really not feed her lunch? Or play outside while leaving her in the house? No. Of course not. But so far, the threat alone is working it's magic. Is it mean? I certainly hope not. Amelia still gets plenty of freedoms, but I am slowly metamorphosing from the bullied victim of a two-year old into a much more effective mommy of a slightly less bossy child.

I just hope she never calls my bluff.

That will be another post. Another day. Hopefully a long, long time from now.