Mommy of the Month

Have you ever hit a rock bottom mommy moment where you find yourself in the tub two hours later drinking chocolate chips out of a plastic cup? Oh, you haven't? I guess it's just me then. 

I have yelled at my children. Lots. I have given them the mommy eye. Lots. I have even flicked there heads when they are being morons. But tonight takes the cake. Tonight I lost my shit. Yes, I said shit. And it is gone. Probably somewhere in the Himalayas sucking it's thumb. 

Let's preface that I have been with out my partner in crime and the kids have been without their favorite person ever, for six days. I know it doesn't matter or shouldn't matter, it is nothing compared to what a lot of people do, but I think subconsciously we are all going a bit bananas. 

Jack and I had already had a run in earlier in the day and worked it out. He played a great basketball game and we all came home happy. I even let them watch half a cartoon while I bathed Lanes and told them they could watch the other half after their bath while I fed and put Laney to sleep. I should be in the Mommy of the Month Club, right? How cool am I to let them do that before bed? Flash forward to them in the tub. Lots of yelling, splashing, banging, full on freaking out happening in there while I am dressing my screaming boo bear. And right out Laney's window it went. Buh-bye my shit. Smell ya later! I yanked them out of the tub sopping wet, checked for blood, threw their jammies at them as I yelled, What in the hell is wrong with you two? I did it. I officially swore at my kids. What in the hell is wrong with me? 

I went back to Laney who is naked and high-centered on her towel. Ugh, what is happening? Get it together girl, they are four and six. I go back out, ask them each what they did wrong. I thought we were getting somewhere when Millie said she needed to use her words and not freak out. But then we move to Jack, who is my loving, intelligent child, but one who soooo encompasses a first child. By that, I mean, one who only thinks about himself about 90% of the time. J's first words were, do we still get the second half of Octonauts? Double ugh! I don't need to continue but we worked it out. And they did get the second half, just because I was too tired and Laney was too hungry for me to continue the fight and the tears that I would have to listen to as I put her down. FAIL.

Or is it a fail? Maybe I should've sent them straight to bed, maybe not. As I lay in the tub pounding my chocolate chips, I'm not sure. Because you know what? They are little. They had a fight in the tub. And although it scared me, they survived. We talked about how we let ourselves down as I tucked them in. How we all need to do better next time communicating. Explaining to Millie what communicating means. Her saying how she is going to conumicate so much tomorrow. Yeah, I think we are doing okay. Plus I got more I love you's, and kisses blown at me tonight as I left then I have had in a long time. They must have learned something, right? I dunno, maybe it's just the chocolate chips talking. 

(In memory of happier tub times)

Not all posts are easy to write

Last night all the kids were in bed, and had stayed there so far. Chris was watching the game at his parents with his dad. I decided to run a bath. These moments are rare. I look forward to them. I read or just let my thoughts bounce around. Tonight I only have one in my mind. And it is that I have failed my child. And all I can do is fill the tub with tears.

Jack had a birthday party earlier in the day. After dropping him off I ran into another mom and we started chatting. Right away she told me that her son had told her that Jack and a few other kids had been teasing a boy at school. Lots of kids tease to some degree. I feel at this age kids are trying to figure out how to socialize, what is acceptable, what isn't. But my heart dropped to the sidewalk when she told me who it was. 

This boy was born early and has some physical disabilities. This boy is darling and is your typical 6 year old kid from what I have observed on field trips. All I could think was, not my Jack. Would he? No! He is a sweet boy. But then I thought yes, he very well could.  He is growing up and changing everyday. Trying to find his way. And if others were involved, absolutely this could be true. But hadn't we taught him well enough?

I tried to think about six year old boys. There is lots of name calling and "I'm not your friend anymore!" type of banter that goes on. Also, Jack hasn't seen many people with disabilities before. But he should still know better. Especially because last year his class had a little boy who was behind and could be disruptive and difficult. The class had so much patience and understanding with him. Where did that go? Have we as parents not taught him better? All I could think about was this little kiddo's thoughts of feeling different being solidified by my son pointing and saying those things. It is awful. It is not the son we are raising whether he is six years old or sixteen.

Then I had to dry my eyes and become a parent. You know, those moments where you go, "Whoa, I have very large responsibilities. Think this one out Em." We wanted his side of course, so we sat him down. I won't go into the details, but it was a good talk. And when you have those good talks, something hits you. These are the learning moments. For him. For us. It wasn't our fault or his fault that he didn't know the best way to handle that situation. He does now. We as parents can not make him handle every moment in life to the best of his abilities. We can sure try. But he will also need sit down talks with his parents after the fact sometimes. We are all human. 

My heart may be a little broken for awhile, but I hope that piece went and filled Jack's with a little compassion and understanding.

To play or not to play?

I've been weaning myself from my children. That sounds super strange. Over the last year or so (yes it is taking me that long) I have been trying to take more of a back seat when it comes to on the floor playing. But it is hard for me! I have not only the guilt of these short years looming over my head, but also a five and three year old who have tremendously gorgeous eyes asking to play with me. Look at them! Look at them and say no, I dare you!

I have seen some improvement when it comes to having them play independently or with each other, but the last few months of constantly saying, "Just go play!" wears on a person. Do they still feel loved? Are they going to turn into adults who end up on TLC's My Strange Addiction all because their mother couldn't play dinosaurs for another minute? Probably not. But my point is, is for me there is such a fine between teaching them independent play and them depending on me to entertain and help their imaginations along. Isn't that what we are supposed to do as parents? But how much? IS THERE ANYONE OUT THERE WITH THE MAGIC RECIPE?!?!

I want to raise children who can thrive on their own, feel confident, creative, and happy. And I think I am figuring it out. Slowly but surely. Honestly, I remember playing with my parents a little, but most of my childhood memories are from playing with friends, my sister, and in my room. I remember playing in my room, alone, a lot. And I was happy doing so! I am hoping that as long as I am designating a portion of my day to just them, all the nagging and the GO PLAY WITH YOUR SISTER!'s  won't be a sound they remember in their heads for the rest of their lives. 

What are your thoughts? I would love anyone who checks in here every now to lend a guilt ridden mother some of their opinions. Is this just me? Or do we all have this overwhelming feeling that the disappointing things we do or say to our children might stay with them FOREVER? Even if it is for the better good of them?