Tag: frustration

bad day, children

Duck and Cover

WFAM

As mother to T.Puzzle and Full Speed, I know what it takes to get through a day. I have to be strong, set lots of stern boundaries and not give them an inch. If I can’t do these things then I have to be prepared to duck and cover.

We were down to our last pull-up and I had to take little T.Puzzle with me to Target. If I am in the right frame of mind and he is too, it is a reasonable task. If I am tired, crabby and not feeling up to being a drill-sergeant mommy, then we are in big, big trouble.

I just was not in the mood to fight him at every turn. He kept tossing everything I had in the cart onto the floor. Normally, I would stop no matter if we are in the food isle or near ladies’ lingerie, and reprimand him. He would be placed in time-out and would wail to the high heavens but most likely would get his act together. I just couldn’t do it today. I wordlessly kept placing everything he tossed on the floor back in the cart. I chose to ignore his behavoir and that was the first of my mistakes.

By the time we had reached the cashier little T.Puzzle was ‘helping’ me push the cart. It was my weak attempt at distracting him from his naughty behavior. It didn’t work (another mistake). He decides now is the time to run away from Mommy and giggle. I grab him and place him in the cart’s seat and he starts screaming ‘no!’ at the top of his lungs. To complicate matters he keeps getting up in the seat dangerously teetering over the side. He looks ready to jump. I try my best to unload the cart and to make light of his insanity to the cashier. She looks wholly empathetic and mortified at the same time. As I lean down to grab something off the base of the cart, little T.Puzzle makes his move. He grabs a heavy box from the counter in front of him and proceeds to chuck it at my head. The cashier lunges forward to save me and in the process her knee hits the counter with a sickening thud. It’s her bad knee she tells me. Well, of course it is. Why would it be her good knee? That would make this story less upsetting and as you can tell, I wasn’t catching any breaks today.

I effusively apologize for the misdeeds of my child and the unfortunate injury he caused. Of course, he hasn’t let up screaming ‘no!’ yet either. I take my cart, my wobbly self-esteem and my overtly aggressive child and exit. I manage to strap him in his car seat, get my things unloaded and put the cart back. As soon as I reach the car I dial Mad Dog. I cry and he listens and when my crying gets really desperate sounding, little T.Puzzle switches his ‘nos!’ to ‘sorrys’.

It didn’t help because I was very sorry, too.

children, life in pictures, mommyhood

When the Shark Bites (Part Two)

WFAM

Part of what sisters do is share their challenges when it comes to child-rearing. Some kids in the brood challenge us in different ways at different times. Some seem as if they might be gifted at pushing their mommies’ buttons (they shall remain nameless in hopes of reducing their future therapy bills). My sister Skee finished telling a particularly frustrating time with one of her kids and then I went on to describe the horrible biting phase of little T.Puzzle.  How it started when he was barely walking (just under a year) and continues to this day. The fortunate part is that now his only victim is his brother (I can’t tell you how relieved I am he is keeping it in the family so the world at large is safe). Then I went on describe how just last week he bit his brother so hard, he almost drew blood. He must have been listening to what I said because less than 24 hours after I shared this story, he struck again. This pic is of the bite mark he inflicted on Full Speed. Full Speed claims this bite attack was unprovoked. I highly doubt it.

This is possibly the longest biting streak on record. Maybe little T.Puzzle could win a cash prize of some sort from the Guiness Book of World Records. My guess is, he will have to use it to pay his lawyer. Full Speed isn’t going to let him go unpunished.

mean mom, mommyhood

Mean Mom

WFAM

I came across one of those mommies today. The kind that just rub you the wrong way with a look or the way they ‘properly’ discipline their seemingly ‘perfect’ children. It’s obvious that their intent is to attempt to model appropriate parenting techniques in the hopes that someone as hopeless as yourself can glean some valuable parenting knowledge.

I had the boys at the park. They actually were behaving (relatively speaking) for me quite well and it was turning into an enjoyable late afternoon. Then it started to get tense.  Full Speed was off doing his own thing while little T.Puzzle was climbing up the slide and jetting down it into a pile of playground friends (who were all boys and who were clearly loving every minute of it). Since most of the kids were similar in size, I didn’t correct him. Soon enough, a little toddler boy waddles over and tries to join the mix. His mom immediately steps in and admonishes him not to climb up the slide and that it is ‘dangerous!’. I could totally respect this UNTIL she looks directly at ME and then says, ‘thank you!’ to her little boy like he is so kind and miraculous that he always pleasantly follows her command. She clearly was trying to make a point.

I get it. I realized as soon as the little guy came up, that T.Puzzle would need to change his game plan. And he did. I made him use the stairs or climb up the side of the playground equipment and use the slide ‘properly’ while the little guy was around. I am not oblivious to the needs or safety of other children when my boys are around. I do my best to keep everyone happy and safe and sometimes my guys sweetly comply (like today thank God) or they cause a big stink but eventually they do comply. Or, simply we leave the scene of the crime as quickly as humanly possible.

What I cannot tolerate are mothers who are so uptight that they wear their icy judgment like a coat of armor. They look at you and your kids with such obvious disdain, that it is almost impossible for you to choke down the words of frustration that are creeping up your throat. But I managed to keep these words at bay. I did my best to ignore her as she talked furiously on her cell-phone full of complaints about who-knows-what for the remainder of our time at the park.

As hard as I tried to tune her out, I couldn’t help but thinking that what I really wanted to do was to go over to her, remove the cell-phone from her hand, tell her to pay attention to her kids and end the interaction with a pointed ‘thank you!’.

Maybe she has something to learn, too.

mommyhood

Mommy Brain

WFAM

Picture this: a skillet with a sizzle of butter coating it; that’s your brain. Then, an unexpectedly large egg containing what used to be your independence and your short-term memory cracks open and falls into this skillet. Within seconds the egg’s contents are fried beyond recognition. This is your brain. This is your brain on motherhood.

I may have mentioned the effects of what I like to call ‘Mommy Brain’ in previous posts, but honestly, I can’t remember. Ever since I have given birth the first time well over five years ago, my ability to remember details and locate keys has decreased substantially. I know I appear completely incompetent when my babysitter comes to the house. I can’t find my keys, my phone or my sanity. It is an unfortunate running joke between us. I’m not sure if she realizes it is an extreme case of “Mommy Brain” or if she just thinks I’m crazy.

Of course “Mommy Brain’ starts with what everyone calls ‘Baby Brain’. Anyone who has cared for a newborn, even if only for a few short hours, can relate to this phenomenon. You can’t remember anything. You are so tired and overwhelmed that you count yourself lucky if you can remember the baby’s name. This was very difficult for me being the consummate ‘Type A’ and a perfectionistic scheduler. Eventually, I adjusted to my loss of organization and assumed it would return as my children aged. It has to some extent but it has never been the same. I wonder, is it lost for good? Thus, the invention of the term ‘Mommy Brain’.

Here’s an excellent example of “Mommy Brain’. I cannot count the number of times I leave my lock attached to a locker at the gym. I’ll walk into the locker room, search frantically through my bag for it and find that it is hanging on the locker that I used over a week ago. Fortunately, the members of my gym are honest and it’s always exactly where I left it. I appreciate their honesty because it is the type of lock that you line up the numbers (the dial kind cause me too much anxiety due to past traumas they caused during high school) and my combination is always clearly displayed as the open lock swings loosely from last week’s locker.

Let me know about your own experiences with ‘Mommy Brain’. Does it ever go away? Does it only relate to motherhood or is it just an unfortunate part of the aging process? I would love to hear your stories.

mommyhood, tantrums

Whatever

WFAM

The boys woke up in good moods. This always helps on a Monday. I corralled them into our bathroom, grabbed their clothes and started to help little T.Puzzle undo the snap and zipper of his pjs.

“No!” he screams. “I do it myself!”

Soon he realizes he doesn’t have the dexterity to open the closure.

“I need help!” he recants.

I reach for the flap of fabric, pop it open and start to unzip him.

“No! I do it myself!”

Whatever.

T.Puzzle also got angry at me at breakfast. I attempted to pull apart his mini waffles, like I do every morning, and he couldn’t believe I would have the audacity to do so.

Whatvever.

A three year old is a lot like a moody, teenage girl. How do I know this? I used to be one. Payback is, well, you know…

That is until he takes two of his mini waffles and fashions them into a toilet seat. I can honestly say, I have never done that. Not once in my former teenaged life or in my current situation.

At least I found it mildly humorous. Of course, I didn’t let little T.Puzzle know that. He would have somehow managed to use this information against me.