Visions of Parenthood vs. the Reality of Parenthood

There are these moments when I imagined what it will be like when my kids get a little older and we can we share experiences together.  Trips to the zoo, the library, the park....bedtime stories, family walks ~ in my head it all seems so blissful.

I've seen other families on these excursions and no one is screaming or yelling ~ not the parents or the kids.  They are all having a fabulous time.  Their kids are the same age as my kids.  They go on regular trips to all of these fabulous kid friendly places and I am empowered. Certainly we can do this.  We are ready.  And it is a good thing we go into these things with no expectations WHAT SO EVER.

My kids are at the perfect age for these little toddler excursions or moments.  They are 3 and 5.

We go equipped with snacks and water for our walk on the nature trail and it inevitably ends with someone dumping their snack, the other no willing to share, resulting tears and a trip cut short.

We take them to the book store prepared to spend a morning reading stories and playing at the train table and they are more interested Starbucks snacks or riding the "excavator" (escalator).  More tears ensue and another trip is cut short.

We snuggle in at bed and they beg for story time together as a family instead of one at a time.  After 10 minutes of negotiating who is sitting where, who is pulling covers, who isn't comfortable and why so 'n so's story is going first, story time ends with no story at all or individual story times that still aren't good enough.

My husband and I have learned to not take it personally.  We are not failing at this.  They are simply kids and to them sometimes spilt milk is the end of the world.  We work on trying to get them to adjust better in these situations, but I'm not so sure they are there yet.

So no matter how much prep work we have done, no matter if we are  using treasured vacation time for the journey, no matter how many situations we have accounted for ~ we are prepared to calmly call it quits and we finally quit having our own temper tantrums at failed special family outings.  It doesn't matter if a trip to the library was the best trip ever last Saturday ~ this Saturday it could resemble something closer to torture or hell.

Our visions of parenthood are not always a reality and we have learned to lower our expectations.

Cleaning ~ exercise of futility

I used to love to clean.  I'd start one room at a time and work from one corner to the next.  I loved the satisfaction of the chemical smell and clean lines....and then we had kids.

At first I used to think I could beat them at avoiding the messes.  I once spent a weekend with my sister and watched how she followed her kids from room to room picking up after each thing they played with.  I was exhausted just watching.

She also keeps all of her juice boxes organized in the fridge by flavor and facing the same direction and other crazy things like same color towels stacked together in the linen closet.  I was going to need a different strategy

It kind of made me want to give up and more and more I justified that I couldn't possibly own my own business, have a 100 lb indoor/outdoor dog, two kids and a back yard incapable of growing grass (mostly because we didn't ever water the grass we planted) and manage to keep clean floors.  It's bad enough our dog sheds a full body of hair everyday and I HAVE to vacuum that.  Nothing says squalor more than white hair balls along every floor board and piece of furniture.  I thought it was purely a matter of time that I didn't have.

When I sold my business I developed an inflated sense of confidence on my soon to be spotless palace.  The time I spent working could now be spent cleaning ~ HA!

Here's how yesterday went:
I stripped the beds and less than four hours later my son wet the bed during his nap and managed to get pee on the comforter, sheets and pillows! I was worse off than when I started.

I mopped the floors and while I was mopping my daughter was playing quietly at the bottom of our porch steps pulverizing a Costco size box of sidewalk chalk that immediately got tracked inside.  She then went and sat on the couch while I was re-wiping the floors.  Did I mention it had rained and that wet side walk chalk is more like clay and not so easy to dust off.

I cleaned and scrubbed every bathroom enough to make my mom proud.  My daughter decided to brush her teeth beginning with Agent Blue (bright blue pre-rinse to help your kids brush better by watching the blue disappear).  She spit it out with the vigor of projectile vomit onto the mirrors, walls, light fixtures, floor and a believe a little bit got into the sink.

I cleaned my daughters room while she was at school and returned it to the peaceful organized room that I love more than any other room in the house.  It reminds me of her childhood innocence...which is ironic considering what happened next.  She came home from school and threw an atomic bomb size temper tantrum because I wouldn't let her have a juice box.  She was sent to her room to continue her ridiculous rants and she proceeded to unmake her bed, empty her bookshelves onto the floor, empty her drawers and threw apart the dollhouse I had just found all of the pieces for.

So after a day of cleaning, my house is still in shambles and I never got that moment of quiet pride that is supposed to come with the over whelming smell of chemicals permeating through the air.  My house looks more like it got a "perfume shower".

I'm taking today off.

How's this for good parenting....

A few weeks back we had a "tune up" with Lulu's behavior specialist/child psychologist.  We share stories...she writes notes and starts to give us suggestions.
Time out...time in her room...losing privileges...go on one side of things we've worked at.

On the other side, we've tried rewards and bribery...we prefer to refer to them as incentives.

We are consistent.

We are firm.

We are calm.

We are loving.

We are compassionate.

And then...I think it is fair to say when all of that fails we lose our sh*@!

The story that finally clicked with the therapist was the great "buckle in" debate.

Every time we are getting into the car I ask Lulu ~ "do you want me to buckle you or do you want to do it?" (giving her options)

Lulu: I'll do it.

So I proceed to get her little brother in and she changes her mind.

Lulu: No, you do it.

So I start to do it and she yells

Lulu: Not like that!  I'll do it.

I resign myself to the fact that this is my life and I get in my seat.  I buckle in and ask if everyone is ready to go.

If you have a difficult child, this next part won't shock you.

Lulu (at the top of her lungs): I am not buckled it!  Come buckle me in now!

Of course this is the perfect time for the Walkers Brigade who all have grandchildren to walk past and I smile politely.  I really shouldn't open the garage door until I have things under control.

I start to buckle her in calmly and she struggles and complains about how she wants the seat belt over her head.  I tell her for the umpteenth time that it is not an option and that it isn't safe.

She yells again.

Lulu:  Don't touch me, I'll buckle myself in.

At this point my calm is fading and we are late.  I forcibly take the seatbelt out of her hands and buckle her in.

She promptly unbuckles herself and yells more nasty things at me about how I am not her friend and she doesn't like me.

I get into my seat and start to back out the driveway to fits and screams of her complaining that she isn't buckled in and now the seat belt is tangled and she can't buckle herself in.

Are you tired yet?  This regular routine is freaking exhausting to me.

I stop the car, get out AGAIN and she lets me buckle her in properly as she continues to mutter all the reasons she doesn't like me.

She carries this grudge with her the rest of the day and it irritates me that she can't let it go.  This has happened more times than I care to admit and I still haven't figured out how to break the cycle....though this is a case when bribery works best.

"Fastest one in their seat gets a piece of candy"...How's that for good parenting?

Good Morning to you too Sunshine

Hello Bewilderment ~ I know I shouldn't be surprised to see you again, but I am.  I'm not ready for you in the morning.  I'm 7 months pregnant and not sleeping well.  I can't deal with atomic bomb level temper tantrums at 8 am.  If you could please hold off until I at least drink a full cup of luke warm coffee ~ that would be great.

Going to school has NEVER been an issue in our house.  Lulu will always go.  She's excited to go.  She LOVES school.  Today she decided not so much.  Shrill screams could probably be heard for miles.  "I am not going to school...I don't like school....I won't go and you can't make me."  I attempt to calm her a little (bad mistake...feeds the fire).  So I ignore and when the time comes I drag her to the car for carpool.  She clings to me for dear life gasping on her tears.  I smile, tell her I love her and have a good day.

I wanted to scream ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

I called my carpool buddy to check in a few minutes later to find out that the tears dried almost instantly and giggles ensued within minutes.  She got out of the car with no issue and went about her happy way.

Thanks Bewilderment ~  this is something new and we may get to add this to our daily battle list.

Not reacting is NOT in my nature

Our current focus on parenting is not responding.  Apparently when we respond to basic commentary from little Lulu or tell her she isn't using a very nice tone we push a button that releases an atomic bomb in our house.

She yells back at us with the fury and vengeance I imagine I had accumulated by age seventeen.  She is enraged.  We are supposed to let it roll of our backs....even when that means she yells "You are stupid" at me repeatedly.  That nearly kills me.  Counting to 10 is hard.  The parents looking at me in Trader Joes is hard.  They don't know that I have tried being stern, maintaining control, I have tried coddling parenting methods...I admit I've tried smacking her hand, time out, I've carried her out of stores kicking and screaming leaving a full cart behind.  They don't know that I have been advised by a professional to just let it go.  Three aisles over in the store my daughter has realized she hasn't gotten a response.  The next thing out of her mouth is "Mommy, can I be your helper and put things in the cart please?"

WHAT?  Who is this child?  Where are all the staring eyes that heard her call me stupid and were calling their friends to talk about the mom with No Control over her 4 yr old!  She becomes my perfect angel ~ my sweet helper and am I so proud of.....me.  I didn't match her temper tantrum and anger and that is a big step for me.  It is hard not to do when you are so exhausted by these constant battles.

This morning she announced she was sitting on the table to put shoes on.  I told her that the table wasn't a good place to sit and recommended a chair instead.  She yelled back "You know absolutely nothing" (my 17 year old self has appeared again).  I smile and she yells "It is not funny mommy".  I walk out of the room and another atomic bomb is avoided.  She puts on her shoes and runs outside to play.

As a mother, we all learn to pass a little less judgement when we see stuff happening between another mother and child....we all know that it was a series of trying events that probably got them to a point where they could just stare off into space as their child yells "Did you hear me?  I said you were stupid".

Nothing is "easy"

Our daughter (let's call her Lulu) is going to be a star litigator...she's four and I'd put all of my money on it.  This "strength" is not the easiest one to work with as a parent.   It's one my husband and I flippantly say "it will serve her well in the future" when all we want to do is match her temper tantrums with our own.

Yesterday she was invited to a playdate at my sister's.  This is nothing new.  No strangers.  No odd children to make her withdraw.  The same house she has been going to for the past four years.  A place she begs to go.

And in comes my bewilderment.  When you live with a difficult child it seems nothing is fail-proof.

We pull into the driveway and she announces that she is not staying.  I say "ok, let's just go in, say hello and see what is going on".  She clings for a minute and older well-meaning sister suggests I run when she is not looking.  I know she would be fine, but she would not be ok with me.  I'd get a lecture.  I'm getting nervous.  My child is watching me.  I'm watching my child.  My sister is watching how the whole thing is going down and my insecurities creep in.  I remember what our counselor has said ~ "pick your battles".  Is this one of my battles?  Is the playdate that important?  I was planning on errands with my 2 yr old? Could I manage them both in the store.

I stall.
I help my sister pack for work travel.
I wait for Lulu to settle in.
She's fine and I tell her I'm going to run an errand and she is going to stay for her playdate.
I wait for the reaction ~ will it be screams, cries, clinging or is there a chance I can walk out of here?
She smiles and tells me she will see me in a little bit.

Phew ~ tantrum averted. (and I'm sure I'll have an opportunity to explain what her tantrums are like some time in the near future).

I smile.  She hugs me and she's off.

She reminds me that nothing is easy in my role as a mother but on the flip side even these simple little things can be a huge success for both of us.  We take our victories where we can get them.