Honing My "Cry-dar"

Since becoming a mother, I've noticed I've developed a pretty good "cry radar" for other people's kids. Like, I'll see a frustrated mother scolding her little kid at the grocery store and think, "yo, Mom, your kid is clearly tired and unsure of the situation and probably just wants a little compassion or a hug or something. Can you just stop for a minute and empathize with him?"

Why is it that when I hear some other mom's kid cry, I immediately know what the problem is, and have an instant solution?

I wish I could emotionally detach enough to have that same kind of insight with my own kids sometimes.

Cracking Down on Disrespect

I had been preparing to write a short and simple post yesterday to share a photo of a parenting-related meme that's been making its way around Facebook:

When I re-posted this to my Facebook page a few days ago, I commented that I'd tattoo these "rules" to the backs of my kids' eyelids if I could, and made a mental note to blog about it this weekend. (By the way--the "speech" quoted in the above photo was neither a speech nor was it written by Bill Gates. I figured as much, but I'd still do the tattooing.)

Well, life happened, and I didn't get to my blog yesterday. And anyway, what ended up going down between Bug (he recently turned six) and me this morning illustrates some of the sentiment quite nicely. Let's take a look at the email I shot off to my mom directly after school drop-off at 9:12 am, recounting the scenario:

"Mom, I just need you to tell me everything will be OK: Bug was being a BRAT in the car this morning; making annoying noises whenever I would talk (I was trying to tell Pie something). Bug got in a snit when I said I was going to stop taking, because I ruined his fun (i.e. if I didn't talk, he couldn't make noises over me). When I tried to talk to Pie again, Bug started with the noises again, so I pulled the car over and got out and grabbed his collar and called him a brat and said "you cannot treat people like this." He started crying and said, "but I WANT TO" (which was SO SPOILED sounding). So I just got back in the car to drive through the dropoff line at school. Bug pulled himself together, but then TRIPPED and FELL as he got out of the car.

I feel SO HORRIBLE. I sent an email to his teacher to tell her what had happened in case Bug seemed upset. I'm thinking he'll probably just get over it and get on with his day, but I still feel HORRIBLE that he was crying and that he tripped. But I really shouldn't feel horrible because he was being a brat, right? What do I do?"

Prickly Grandma's responses came pretty quickly:

"You did the RIGHT thing!!!!!"

"That kind of behavior CAN NOT be tolerated; so your reaction was RIGHT ON!  Of course it’s too bad that he tripped and fell, but he didn’t  (obviously) need coddling by his mother. Keep up the non-tolerance and you will eventually see results!!"

"You are doing the world a favor by insisting that your boys behave properly!!!!!"

Sigh. The touchy-feely parenting trends of our generation have convinced me and many, many other parents that any "cracking down, " molding of, or even mere guiding our children's behavior is tantamount to breaking their spirits, denying their status as a human being with equal rights, or worse. The parenting experts have taught us to question, or just outright distrust our instincts and common sense. But like "Bill Gates" implies above, would this kind of entitled, annoying behavior be tolerated between adults and/or peers in the real world? Hell no. Like I've told Bug many times, my job is to teach him how to be a good grown-up. 

That's what I'm trying to do. Why can't we all just be on the same page?

Yes, I Allow the Kids to Do This

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the Obstacle Course 2000, "the greatest obstacle course ever" (according to my six-year-old).

Was I upset when I walked in the house this afternoon and found the couch in the dining room and the dining chairs in the living room? A little. Stuff like this used to make me really, really angry...and I still wish it wouldn't happen...but it does. I just choose not to flip out.

Bug started walking like he was shot out of a cannon at 10 months old, was climbing ladders at the playground at 11 months, and running all over the house at his first birthday party. I'm not exaggerating.

As a new mom (who was also pregnant at the time with Pie), I was beside myself with this little ball of energy. Not long after the day I walked into the dining room to discover Bug standing on the table, about to swing from the chandelier, (which I absolutely did not allow), my mom came to visit. As we sat in the living room trying to have some coffee and conversation, baby Bug, who was probably close to two years old by then, kept climbing on and off the coffee table in front of us. I remember trying to coax him down, distract him, scold him. He wouldn't stop. My anxiety and despair and helplessness was obvious, and my mom commented, "what's wrong with letting him stand on the coffee table? Think about it in the grand scheme of things. Is it really worth getting so upset over?"

We knew how agile Bug was, and knew that he probably was less likely to hurt himself than a kid who was less acrobatically inclined. So I took my mom's advice and chose not to pick that battle. And that's why my first floor is still, on most days,  home to some incarnation of the Obstacle Course 2000. It's not the perfect solution, but for now, it's one that works.

Tantrums: Am I Part of the Problem?

(Editor's note [the editor being, well, me]: for some reason, the working title of this post--which has taken me over two weeks to write--was "Raising Little Jerks." I can't remember why. I thought y'all would find that interesting.)

I know I've been MIA for a while. To be completely honest (like I'm ever not completely honest), I've been trying to wrap my head around something that is very troubling to me as a mother.

Most of my recent posts have been about the issues surrounding my little Pie (who just turned four) and his meltdowns. He, like me, has an intense and gregarious personality. And he, also like me, doesn't know how to rein it in much of the time. So he's still having tantrums--not only at home, but at school.

After a big internal struggle, I finally decided to take the advice of Pie's school counselor and an administrator, and consulted a child psychologist. When the school staff first broached the topic, I admit my first thoughts were that they wanted me to get a label slapped on my little guy ASAP so he could be held back, medicated, kicked out of school...or who knows what else. I had been thinking he may have a sensory processing issue or, again like me, be a Highly Sensitive Person. I thought I might be able to solve Pie's problems myself with positive parenting concepts or a "Caught Ya Being Good" jar.

As a mother, my number one priority is to never, ever, ever allow my children to feel misunderstood (untreated anxiety and clinical depression totally effed up my childhood). Now, I'm all about acknowledging every utterance that passes their lips, validating every feeling they have, struggling to understand, examine, and rectify any internal battle they may be fighting. My boys will not have their childhoods marred by an undiagnosed or misunderstood cognitive or brain chemistry issue. Period. End of story.

I had been researching attachment parenting/positive discipline and reading Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids: How to Stop Yelling and Start Connecting. I was really digging the "time in" concept and teaching coping skills rather than sending my preschoolers into exile and expecting them to figure out how to deal with their emotions by themselves. I wanted to make sure they knew that I understood what they were going through.

So sometimes when Pie would have a meltdown over not getting his way, Prickly Dad would scoop him up, march him upstairs, deposit him in his room, and shut the door. On some level I was all for this, but I could only hack about 20 minutes of screaming before I would want to swoop in and comfort him and try to validate his feelings. A lot of times I'd go into his room and hold him tightly and whisper soothing words until he calmed down. Sometimes we'd end up playing or reading a story.

I described my "method" to the psychologist (along with the reason I was so compelled to make sure the boys knew I understood their feelings). Long story short...she wondered if I was unintentionally rewarding Pie's behavior. She suggested I consider leaving him in his room and letting him ride it out (coincidentally, Pie's teacher had suggested a similar strategy and recommended I read Love and Logic Magic for Early Childhood).

I'm not going to say I was devastated, but my core was was pretty shaken for the next several days. Could it be that my insistence on validating my boys' feelings was turning them into little monsters? Was I a failure as a mother? (The answer to that question is obviously no, as my own therapist helped me figure out a few days later. I'm big into catastrophizing, all-or-nothing thinking, and sundry other cognitive distortions).

Unfortunately, I don't have an ending, happy or otherwise, for this story right now. I finished reading the Love and Logic book, plan on reading another one, and realize in my heart that no matter what I do, my boys know that they are loved, valued, and respected. That's the best spin I can put on it while I figure out what to do about Pie's tantrums.

Featured in The Sunday Parenting Party

Today Is (Non-Soylent) Green Day

Soylent Green (1973).

I could have decided to call the days Pie Day and Bug Day (using their real names, of course). Or Big Brother Day and Little Brother Day. But Bug's favorite color happens to be green, and I couldn't resist the Soylent Green reference. So it's been Green Day and Yellow Day (Pie's favorite color).

So, what the heck am I talking about? Every single morning, the boys argue about who's going to get his socks and shoes on first (I still help them). And then who's going to get his coat on first. Then who's going to get in the car first. It. Never. Ends. So a few days ago, I decided to check off another item on my "37 Tips for Frazzled Moms" list and institute the "I get to go first/choose" plan.

"Guess what, you guys!" I said in the most excitable voice I could muster, "Here's what we're going to do, starting tomorrow. When it's Green Day, Bug will put on his shoes and coat first, choose what to watch on TV, and pick out the bedtime story. On Yellow Day, Pie will get to go first and make the choices!"

They were, and still are, so into it! Sure there's still arguing every single day, but now I just have to remind them of which color day it is (or one of them reminds the rest of us). They're actually learning to take turns. I'm glad I finally gave it a try!

37 Tips for Frazzled Moms

I was feeling overwhelmed and discouraged the other day and forced myself to sit down and make a master list of everything I've been meaning to do to help make my life run more smoothly. I don't know how long it's going to take me to tackle the entire list (#29 accidentally became the first "done"), but I hope it's before Pie turns 18 in 2027.

Thanks to all the mom bloggers who provided inspiration for this list. You seriously keep me sane.

37 Things I Think Would Help

1. Being able to reflect/collect my thoughts first thing in the morning before the whining/demanding starts
2. Exercising in the morning by myself (treadmill or yoga)
3. Having designated shower days/times
4. Having everyone's outfits picked out the night before
5. Knowing what I was going to make for breakfast
6. Having "breakfast boxes" on the bottom shelf of the fridge (ideally for the kids to get themselves)
7. Knowing more quick/healthy breakfast options that the boys will eat
8. Making a daily to do list (with or without pictures)
9. Having a more organized shoe/coat situation
10. Making checklists for the boys with morning routine tasks (potty, get dressed, eat, play, shoes/coat, etc.)
11. Having a plan to deal with begging for treats throughout the day without having to argue
12. Planning lunch/snack options in advance
13. Making the boys do chores (collect dirty dishes, put back pillows/cushions, clean up toys, scrub floors)
14. Having a chore schedule for myself
15. Making a daily schedule for myself (with designated laundry/dishes/meal prep times)
16. Making a weekly schedule for myself for school hours (meal prep, cleaning, phone calls, nap)
17. Enforcing rest/quiet time for Pie (and myself)
18. Making a calendar with designated "I get to choose/I get to go first" days for each boy
19. Having "busy bag" or "file folder"-type activities on hand for when I'm working in the kitchen
20. Making an "Okay, Mom" reward chart
21. Figuring out how to teach the boys not to interrupt/take turns speaking
22. Talking in a quiet voice when I get angry
23. Extinguishing tantrums the John Rosemond way
24. Running or kicking a ball around
25. Going outside more
26. Playing with/enjoying the boys instead of worrying
27. Scheduling one-on-one time with each kid
28. Knowing in advance what was for dinner
29. Enforcing "The Kitchen Hour" for myself
30. Feeling less defeated about pleasing everybody at dinner (make what I want instead of worrying about everyone else)
31. Making rules about daily milk and juice consumption
32. Making the boys get their own drinks
33. Serving a bedtime snack/milk every night
34. Making a tradition/routine of checking the weather with the boys and planning tomorrow's outfit
35. Having "candle time" (a quiet reflection/meditation time…maybe with the bedtime snack)
36. Starting bedtime earlier…or prescribe an "end time" with the Time Timer
37. Making husband do bedtime a couple times a week

When "Ask Me in a Nice Voice" Isn't Working

Here's a conversation that went down over the summer between Bug (age four and a half) and his grandpa:

Bug (in a demanding voice): "I want milk!"
Grandpa: "Well, you're not getting anything if you ask like that."
Bug: "I don't wanna ask in a nice voice!"
Grandpa: "Well, then you're not getting any milk."
Bug: "If you make me ask in a nice voice, I'm not coming to visit you anymore."
Grandpa: "Ooooooo...am I supposed to be scared?"

(Is my dad awesome, or what?)

The whining and disrespectful behavior from both of my kids has really been bugging me since the summer (it's all finally coming to a head for some reason). I'm the type of person who cannot bear the sound of whining, and I know I've created the monsters by giving in to it too much. The time has come, however, to buckle down and extinguish. The conversation above, coupled with an impromptu mini-intervention by my sister, dad, and mom ("the boys are too old to be acting like this") has given me a little resolve.

We had a little jump start on "Operation Stop Whining" in August when the boys and I went camping with the above-mentioned family members. Prickly Aunt and Grandpa were the most adamant about the kids' behavior: they stuck to their guns and wouldn't give in to the boys' rudeness and whining. What I admired most, aside from their ability to ride through the most ridiculous hissy-fits, was how they approached the "teaching" with dry humor (I heard my sister ask each kid sarcastically, "what are you, two?").

Now that's my style of parenting.

The problem I've had with the standard parenting advice is that it's just not me. Good or bad, I tend to approach everything with some amount of wit, and playing the sing-song-y "I'll listen to you when you ask me in a nice voice" broken record has just ended up being too inauthentic in the context of the way we run our family.

Now, I know I can't use this "Sarcastic Supernanny" method all the time...but if I can throw it in the parenting toolbox along with some other authentic-to-me options (like the power of a bluntly-worded suggestion: "A better way to ask would be, 'Mommy, can you come in the bathroom and wipe me?'"), I might actually have the beginning of an actual plan.

Ask me for some milk now, Bug. I dare you!

I Hate New Year's Resolutions

Since the boys have been out of state with their grandparents for the last few days, I've had the chance to take a breath and figure out how to be a better mother this year (read: calm down and stop yelling so much). Like the rest of society, I hate making--and breaking--New Year's resolutions, but I feel like I have to try. So here are my top three parenting-related goals for 2012:

• Enforce nap/rest time (for all of us!)
• Start having the boys sit in the corner (I hate the term "time-out")
• Bite the bullet and stop responding to whining ("I'll listen to you when you speak nicely")

I have about 12 more things written down, but we can tackle those later.