Ugh. These are the nights I dread. The nights I have to play "enforcer." The nights I don't get to be "fun, cool Mom," but instead have to discipline and enforce consequences. It's especially brutal at bedtime.
I've found myself lately slipping into an "ANNA" voice. Meaning that everything that comes out of my mouth is IN ALL CAPS. Seems like the kid is CHAMPION at tuning me out unless I SPEAK TO HER LIKE THIS at certain times. And I don't want to be "that" mom.
I read "Parenting with Love and Logic" this past summer. I think it might be time for a re-read. I know most of my consequences are natural consequences. I explain the circumstances calmly, but still, I find myself getting so frustrated at times that I can't help raising my voice. And I don't want to be "that" mom.
Bedtime is an especially tough time for us. I'm usually exhausted. She's usually wound up. It usually ends in tears. All around. Tonight she peaked her little head around the door and whispered, "don't be made at me." And my heart broke. Granted, she'd earned it by being violent and not listening. She'd already lost all her bedtime stories. But I'm giving the victory of that battle over to her, because she's sleeping peacefully and I'm sitting on the couch, still stinging over those 5 little words. I wanted to go back in after I closed her bedroom door and tell her I changed my mind and just read her some stories. But I don't want to be "that" mom.
This whole parenting thing...just a constant battle of what we know will be best for them in the long-run versus what will make them happy now. I love when she's happy NOW. Her little eyes light up and she has the best smile. But I want my kid to learn that there are consequences for her actions (or lack thereof). I want her to grow up to be responsible, to take initiative, to be respectful. I want to be the mom who sits back proudly in 10, 15, 20 years and says "yeah, that's MY kid."
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
If I Find One More Sandra Boynton Book in my Underwear Drawer...
In so very many ways, toddlers are like squirrels, socking away their treats in several little treasure troves all over the place. Funny I should mention sock. Anna's favorite place to stash all her treasures lately is in my underwear drawer. IS NOTHING SACRED? Every time I go in to pull out a fresh pair of socks, out flies Barnyard Dance. Or a Ninja Turtle. Or a plastic piece of bologna. I mean, seriously, BOLOGNA!
We're settling in to being at home, but I'm quickly realizing that Anna loves repetition. As in, we're playing the same games over. And over. And over. Oh, and over. I tend to get a little tired of "put the bunny to bed" and I definitely fear for my life when we play doctor. I'm getting creative with solutions to the monotony, but also trying to respect the fact that she LIKES the repetition. I try to schedule one or two things outside the house each week (keeping in mind that I'm only at home 3 days a week). Plus we do a lot of baking, coloring and nail painting. She's been fairly flexible with my desire to obsessively clean the house, but I can tell I've been pushing it too far when she asks "Aw, mom, are there MORE bad germs on the tub AGAIN?" Scarred for life.
Speaking of scarred for life, I did a bad thing last week. I was TRYING to do a good thing. But it backfired big time.
Anna is like an addict with her pacifier. She has been, literally, from the day she was born. She sneaks it when she's not supposed to have it, begs for it when I take it away and won't go to bed without it. I decided last week that since her half birthday was on January 31st, maybe this would be an opportune time for the "nuk fairy" to visit our house. The nuk fairy visits big girls who don't need their nuks anymore and trades a fun new toy for the nuk, taking the nuk to babies who need it.
I decided to give Anna a few days of pep talks about the nuk fairy, explaining that she was almost a big girl and how exciting it would be for the nuk fairy to pay her a visit. Yes. Great. She was pumped. Until bed time rolled around.
I put her to bed as usual and she whined as usual when I left the room. But after about 10 minutes of her complaining off and on, hubby and I heard her door knob rattling, followed by a positively pathetic moan from behind the door. I sent hubby in since he can usually resolve issues quickly with her. A few minutes later he came out snickering.
"She's afraid to go to sleep because the 'fairy babies' are going to come to her room in the night and steal her nuks."
Truly, this child is afraid of NOTHING. She likes to be scared. She loves to talk and read about monsters. But I casually mention about a friendly, benevolent fairy possibly, maybe sneaking into her bedroom during the night and stealing her most prized possession, and THAT freaks her out?! Of course it does.
I had to go in and promise to call the nuk fairy right away (who is very nice and ALWAYS listens to mommies) and tell her we weren't ready for her to visit our house yet.
So, we're keeping the nuk! At least for a little while longer. Which I suspect was her end game all along. Well played, tiny human, well played.
We're settling in to being at home, but I'm quickly realizing that Anna loves repetition. As in, we're playing the same games over. And over. And over. Oh, and over. I tend to get a little tired of "put the bunny to bed" and I definitely fear for my life when we play doctor. I'm getting creative with solutions to the monotony, but also trying to respect the fact that she LIKES the repetition. I try to schedule one or two things outside the house each week (keeping in mind that I'm only at home 3 days a week). Plus we do a lot of baking, coloring and nail painting. She's been fairly flexible with my desire to obsessively clean the house, but I can tell I've been pushing it too far when she asks "Aw, mom, are there MORE bad germs on the tub AGAIN?" Scarred for life.
Speaking of scarred for life, I did a bad thing last week. I was TRYING to do a good thing. But it backfired big time.
Anna is like an addict with her pacifier. She has been, literally, from the day she was born. She sneaks it when she's not supposed to have it, begs for it when I take it away and won't go to bed without it. I decided last week that since her half birthday was on January 31st, maybe this would be an opportune time for the "nuk fairy" to visit our house. The nuk fairy visits big girls who don't need their nuks anymore and trades a fun new toy for the nuk, taking the nuk to babies who need it.
I decided to give Anna a few days of pep talks about the nuk fairy, explaining that she was almost a big girl and how exciting it would be for the nuk fairy to pay her a visit. Yes. Great. She was pumped. Until bed time rolled around.
I put her to bed as usual and she whined as usual when I left the room. But after about 10 minutes of her complaining off and on, hubby and I heard her door knob rattling, followed by a positively pathetic moan from behind the door. I sent hubby in since he can usually resolve issues quickly with her. A few minutes later he came out snickering.
"She's afraid to go to sleep because the 'fairy babies' are going to come to her room in the night and steal her nuks."
Truly, this child is afraid of NOTHING. She likes to be scared. She loves to talk and read about monsters. But I casually mention about a friendly, benevolent fairy possibly, maybe sneaking into her bedroom during the night and stealing her most prized possession, and THAT freaks her out?! Of course it does.
I had to go in and promise to call the nuk fairy right away (who is very nice and ALWAYS listens to mommies) and tell her we weren't ready for her to visit our house yet.
So, we're keeping the nuk! At least for a little while longer. Which I suspect was her end game all along. Well played, tiny human, well played.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Low Key Day
The kid has been under the weather for the last couple of days. Started as a nasty cough that was joined yesterday by a fever. Thankfully that seems to have subsided as of early this morning, but she's been extra snuggly all day (no complaints here! Though it is slightly strange to "snuggle" a child when you're trying to go to the bathroom. I'm just saying.).
I was so thankful as I lay awake this morning at 3:30 after Anna woke up absolutely terrified and disoriented, begging me to turn the light on, that I didn't have to stress about missing work today. She had been talking in her sleep all night and I'm fairly sure she was having nightmares, which I don't think she's had before. We got a drink of milk and read some books and she was back asleep within about a half hour. She managed to sleep until right around 7:30, at which point we moved to the couch to snuggle. We just relaxed in our jammies most of the day, chugging fluids (since I'm now also feeling the tightness in my chest, lovely) and watching Sesame Street.
She still wanted to play, so we got out the blocks and crayons and just chilled on the living room floor watching our driveway and street out front fill up with snow. I sipped my coffee and she sipped her apple juice. Life is good.
**Note mostly to myself - it's been too long since I posted pictures. I will make my next post a picture post. Please feel free to harass me if I forget.
I was so thankful as I lay awake this morning at 3:30 after Anna woke up absolutely terrified and disoriented, begging me to turn the light on, that I didn't have to stress about missing work today. She had been talking in her sleep all night and I'm fairly sure she was having nightmares, which I don't think she's had before. We got a drink of milk and read some books and she was back asleep within about a half hour. She managed to sleep until right around 7:30, at which point we moved to the couch to snuggle. We just relaxed in our jammies most of the day, chugging fluids (since I'm now also feeling the tightness in my chest, lovely) and watching Sesame Street.
She still wanted to play, so we got out the blocks and crayons and just chilled on the living room floor watching our driveway and street out front fill up with snow. I sipped my coffee and she sipped her apple juice. Life is good.
**Note mostly to myself - it's been too long since I posted pictures. I will make my next post a picture post. Please feel free to harass me if I forget.
Monday, January 10, 2011
My Little Storyteller
Anna's imagination has literally exploded. All over my living room. She is a champion at pretend play - building block castles, cities and towers, which she then populates with her beanie babies, Fischer Price Little People and various other critters that have invaded my once-clean house. She makes up stories to go along with her play and frequently she tells those stories to me. However, there are only two story lines that she follows consistently (in some variation).
They are:
1. "Once upon a time there were THREE MON-SERS!!!! And one fall down he CRY!"
2. "God Jesus was borned and he gonna love us. All....Night!"
Her facial expressions and gestures while she's telling these stories make it more of a performance than a story. And she ends each story with "That's a good story, mama?"
Yes, honey. They are great stories. No matter how many times I hear them, because I think it's both sweet and amazing that she's beginning to be able to grasp the idea of storytelling and imagination.
They are:
1. "Once upon a time there were THREE MON-SERS!!!! And one fall down he CRY!"
2. "God Jesus was borned and he gonna love us. All....Night!"
Her facial expressions and gestures while she's telling these stories make it more of a performance than a story. And she ends each story with "That's a good story, mama?"
Yes, honey. They are great stories. No matter how many times I hear them, because I think it's both sweet and amazing that she's beginning to be able to grasp the idea of storytelling and imagination.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Living the Dream
Well, here we are. Finally. I'm down to working two days a week and am spending the rest of my time home with Anna as I've been wishing and hoping to do for the past two and a half years. And you know what? It's as fun as I imagined it would be!
We spent this week taking down our Christmas decorations, organizing toys, books, closets, etc (wherever I can convince Anna to play for 10 minutes on her own, I try to clean or organize there at the same time).
We spent a good chunk of time at the library yesterday and then read tons of books when we got home. She's helped me cook. I've helped her color. And then there was the "Let's play doctor" incident where she tried to shove a cash register key into my ear to get the french fries out.
Yes, french fries. Apparently her McDonalds cash register-turned-x-ray scanner informed her that my ear was harboring delicious morsels and she decided to remove them with the little yellow plastic key.
Her bedside manner is SERIOUSLY lacking. I'll be seeing a new doctor next time a tasty treat mysteriously finds its way into one of my ears. For nearly an hour she shouted at me to "LAY DOWN ON THE FLOOR, DON'T WAGGLE (wiggle), DON'T LAUGH, DON'T TALK and LET ME SEE YOUR EARS...NOW!" Oh, and she forced me to wear a bowl over my face (I think it was meant to be a surgical mask). I'm still traumatized.
I've since caught her using her "x-ray" on both cats and Hubby. None of whom went running and screaming for the hills as I suggested they should. Suckers.
We spent this week taking down our Christmas decorations, organizing toys, books, closets, etc (wherever I can convince Anna to play for 10 minutes on her own, I try to clean or organize there at the same time).
We spent a good chunk of time at the library yesterday and then read tons of books when we got home. She's helped me cook. I've helped her color. And then there was the "Let's play doctor" incident where she tried to shove a cash register key into my ear to get the french fries out.
Yes, french fries. Apparently her McDonalds cash register-turned-x-ray scanner informed her that my ear was harboring delicious morsels and she decided to remove them with the little yellow plastic key.
Her bedside manner is SERIOUSLY lacking. I'll be seeing a new doctor next time a tasty treat mysteriously finds its way into one of my ears. For nearly an hour she shouted at me to "LAY DOWN ON THE FLOOR, DON'T WAGGLE (wiggle), DON'T LAUGH, DON'T TALK and LET ME SEE YOUR EARS...NOW!" Oh, and she forced me to wear a bowl over my face (I think it was meant to be a surgical mask). I'm still traumatized.
I've since caught her using her "x-ray" on both cats and Hubby. None of whom went running and screaming for the hills as I suggested they should. Suckers.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Who Rang That Bell?!
I love the Wizard of Oz. As a kid, I think I probably watched that movie at least 100 times (a week). And I remember always thinking "Jeez, what a crab" about the guy who answers the door when Dorothy & Co. reach the doors to the Emerald City. "WHO RANG THAT BELL?" While, yes, he is supposed to find out the answer to that question, you'd think maybe the greeter to the sparkling green paradise would have a little more patience and class while performing his duties.
I realized something this weekend, though. That poor door greeter, it wasn't his fault. He was just sick to death of political supporters and politicians themselves ringing the doorbell. He was probably incredibly relieved to see a walking talking bag of straw and trembling feline instead of some suited-up, fake-smile wearing liar toting enough literature to have single-handedly taken out half of America's remaining trees.
Ah, campaign season...
I have never been terribly interested in politics. I vote. I spend some time getting to know which candidates are which. A lot of what I base my vote on is purely gut - do I like the candidate, think they'll try to do their best, etc. - because regardless of whether or not they agree with me on issues like big/small government and federal spending, whatever, if the person is of faulty character, they're not going to get the job done anyway. I've tried to ignore the mountains of junk mail I've received from both political parties in the recent months, but after I cleaned up our piles of mail this weekend and filled our indoor recycle bin TWO TIMES with a majority of political fliers, I'd had enough. That is why when we received multiple calls to our cell phones and personal visits to our house (during nap time, no less), I found myself shouting, "WHO RANG THAT BELL?!"
You know what? As soon as one of them shows up wearing ruby slippers, I'll be happy to talk them. Until then, "Nobody sees the wizard!"
I realized something this weekend, though. That poor door greeter, it wasn't his fault. He was just sick to death of political supporters and politicians themselves ringing the doorbell. He was probably incredibly relieved to see a walking talking bag of straw and trembling feline instead of some suited-up, fake-smile wearing liar toting enough literature to have single-handedly taken out half of America's remaining trees.
Ah, campaign season...
I have never been terribly interested in politics. I vote. I spend some time getting to know which candidates are which. A lot of what I base my vote on is purely gut - do I like the candidate, think they'll try to do their best, etc. - because regardless of whether or not they agree with me on issues like big/small government and federal spending, whatever, if the person is of faulty character, they're not going to get the job done anyway. I've tried to ignore the mountains of junk mail I've received from both political parties in the recent months, but after I cleaned up our piles of mail this weekend and filled our indoor recycle bin TWO TIMES with a majority of political fliers, I'd had enough. That is why when we received multiple calls to our cell phones and personal visits to our house (during nap time, no less), I found myself shouting, "WHO RANG THAT BELL?!"
You know what? As soon as one of them shows up wearing ruby slippers, I'll be happy to talk them. Until then, "Nobody sees the wizard!"
Saturday, October 2, 2010
The Toddler Mommy Bill of Rights
I was celebrating one of my small victories this morning (namely, convincing Anna that going to the grocery store was in fact a cool enough reason to leave the library where puzzles, books and coloring sheets abound), and it got me thinking: There are some "rights" that Toddler Moms should just automatically be awarded. So here's my stand. For Toddler Moms everywhere!
We hold these truths to be self-evident:
1. That all moms deserve a day to sleep in without children prying their eyelids open with sticky syrup fingers before the hour of 8 a.m.
2. That as a mom, I am allowed to go out in public unshowered/with food on my clothing/with my pajamas on WITHOUT being judged. As long as I have my kid along with me.
3. That ketchup IS a food group in our house (whether I want it to be or not!) but I can still serve good food (as long as I'm OK with watching Anna put ketchup on it).
4. That someday, maybe, the interior of my car will be leather or cloth, instead of what it currently is : Cheerios.
5. That if my muscles really hurt from my last workout, I'm allowed to eat an ice cream sundae. Or two.
6. That no matter how crazy this kid is driving me before bedtime, I'll miss her the instant I close her bedroom door. And I am allowed to hover outside her bedroom door to determine whether or not she's "asleep enough" for me to go in and peek at her.
7. That moms are allowed to forget the bad things and remember only the good (Mommy Amnesia!).
8. That being a mom is both the most rewarding, fun, exciting AND challenging, frustrating, exhausting challenge we've ever encountered. And we are allowed to feel all of those things AT THE SAME TIME.
Signed,
Cheerio Mom
Amendments welcome!
We hold these truths to be self-evident:
1. That all moms deserve a day to sleep in without children prying their eyelids open with sticky syrup fingers before the hour of 8 a.m.
2. That as a mom, I am allowed to go out in public unshowered/with food on my clothing/with my pajamas on WITHOUT being judged. As long as I have my kid along with me.
3. That ketchup IS a food group in our house (whether I want it to be or not!) but I can still serve good food (as long as I'm OK with watching Anna put ketchup on it).
4. That someday, maybe, the interior of my car will be leather or cloth, instead of what it currently is : Cheerios.
5. That if my muscles really hurt from my last workout, I'm allowed to eat an ice cream sundae. Or two.
6. That no matter how crazy this kid is driving me before bedtime, I'll miss her the instant I close her bedroom door. And I am allowed to hover outside her bedroom door to determine whether or not she's "asleep enough" for me to go in and peek at her.
7. That moms are allowed to forget the bad things and remember only the good (Mommy Amnesia!).
8. That being a mom is both the most rewarding, fun, exciting AND challenging, frustrating, exhausting challenge we've ever encountered. And we are allowed to feel all of those things AT THE SAME TIME.
Signed,
Cheerio Mom
Amendments welcome!
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