Mindfulness. It's about being present, focusing on the positive, and being in control of your emotions. A place where you can forget the past and be worry-free about the future. As hard as I try, this just simply isn't always the way the day goes.
I get up early to try and capture the one hour of hot coffee and breakfast I enjoy to myself while the house is still dark and quiet. Just as I sit down, delicious almond milk-dashed coffee warming my hands, there goes little Hannah over the monitor. By the time she's either nursed and back to sleep, or changed and happily playing - coffee's cold. I opt for the quick bowl of cereal instead of veggie egg-white omelette I had planned. Once Hannah sees mommy eating, she wants breakfast too. I wolf down my cereal and take sips of cold coffee between feeding Hannah bites of yogurt. I'm frustrated that my morning is not going as planned, but am trying to keep a positive mind. "Oh well, early bed time tonight - then ill have my mommy-time", I think.
Wrong.
After a day full of "oh well, we're going to make this a good day" reminders, I have nothing left come dinner time. I tell Lyla to eat her dinner for the hundredth time through gritted, fake-smiling teeth. Hannah is covered in sweet potato and exhausted - I just want to cry right along with her. I skip bath time because I simply do not have the energy. I catch myself feeling snappy and I try to focus on my breathing: "I am aware of my in-breath, I am aware of my out-breath"
Not working.
Eventually, they are both fed, cleaned up, in pajamas, and asleep. But since I chose to put off all the cleaning and chores that day to make myself more available to the girls, I now have a kitchen full of dirty dishes and laundry piles that are so high I can barely see our laundry room, let alone the washing machine. I wash and fold as quickly as I can, and look forward to making myself a snack and some tea, and finally sit down to my beloved DVR'd crap-TV shows.
Hannah wakes up. Time to nurse. I get her settled back down, and fall asleep on the couch mid-show, and never even took a sip of my tea.
Of course, not everyday is like this. Infact, I'm lucky enough to say that MOST days are not. However, when they DO occur, I can't seem to handle them and I absolutely hate myself for this. I get so easily overwhelmed, I piss and moan about how I never get time to myself, I dwell on my injury and how I can't run - I know the negativity won't get me anywhere, but I'm in too deep and start spiraling downward.
It's days like this that remind me just how difficult mindfulness really is. I practice and practice, but still find myself reactive, and stressed out. My husband calls this "being human" - agreed; I know that I have the right to have emotions and to acknowledge them, and that is is normal to lose your cool. But that doesn't mean I feel good about it when it happens.
Mindful parenting has been one of my biggest practices, and one of the more difficult things I have dealt with. On a good day, I am forever grateful. I stare and stare at my girls, think of how beautiful they are, what great kids they truly are, feel good about how I handled Lyla's meltdown, spend the day smiling and laughing...you get the idea. It's the bad days that I really get down on myself for.
How am I teaching Lyla not to yell when I am yelling at her?
How am I teaching her to stay calm when the smallest thing seems to send me over the edge?
How am I teaching her to listen when I am rushing her through the story she has told me 5 times that morning?
And the funny thing is, most of the things that frustrate me with her is how she reacts to things - but who am I to talk when I am the one she's modeling after? This realization is what makes me feel most guilty about the "bad" days, and furthermore, what makes me want to practice mindfulness even more. Happy kids, happy mom? Sure. But I think the cause of happy kids IS a happy mom, and I am happiest when I feel good about myself, about my reactions, about the time spent with my girls.
Practice makes perfect.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Mom-Fail
For the last 3 and a half years, I'd like to think I have been a pretty patient, tolerant mother. Always finding a way to use my words, keep my voice at a reasonable level, and really just enjoy my kids - even in their worst moments. But lately? Not so much. It's almost as if these last few years have finally caught up to me, and my prize-winning performance has run its course. To say the least, lately, motherhood has been kicking my ass.
I keep telling fellow moms that I don't know whether it's my kids, or me. Are they both going through tough stages, or am I just being intolerant? Sure, Hannah's separation anxiety is in full force and I can not put her down these days, and Lyla's "questions phase" has grown to at least 800 per day. Probably more. But as the mom, aren't I supposed to just be able to handle these things? Sure, I have my Super-Mom days where I keep the 18lb baby on my hip all day and answer each and every one of Lyla's questions with grueling detail and explanation, all while juggling meal time, chores, and Lyla's love of crafts. But then there are what I call the mom-fail days.
Okay, that's not a very fair name for them, but at the end of one of these days, that's how I'm left feeling - like I failed. I should have done this. I should have been able to handle that. These are the days where the screams go right through me. Where the first "cause why???" that comes out of Lyla's mouth makes me want to go hide under a rock until this phase is over. Meltdowns from both kids are in full swing; from Hannah because I put her down for two seconds so I could pee, and Lyla because she refuses to walk to the bathroom and get a tissue herself. These are the days, the mom-fail days, where my vocal chords get to stretch their wings. "KNOCK IT OFF! GO TO YOUR ROOM! NO TV! NO DESSERT!" So again, I ask, is it them, or me? One mom told me "it's always them" - I like that, but I never, ever feel good at the end of these days. I've never let out a good scream and thought "man, that felt good". In fact, I'm pretty sure I usually un-do any punishing by simply feeling bad, and going into Lyla's room, curling her up on my lap, explaining why mommy got so upset, and then apologizing for my reaction - but not always. On mom-fail days, I stay upset. Because I stay upset, the next little thing she does sends her right back into her time out chair, without any chances. And it's always in these moments that Hannah is at her worst; flailing in my arms or scooting around on the floor begging to be picked up. On mom-fail days, whether it's them or me, it never settles down. It is non-stop, zero tolerance, constant yelling, absolute failure of a day - both with their actions and my ability to handle it.
On top of it, the day doesn't end at bedtime. Hannah has not slept for more than 3-4 hour chunks at night since her arrival 9 months ago, and it never fails that once I climb into our warm, cozy bed, the cries begin. Luckily, she goes back down easily - a quick nursing session or a pacifier-pop - but it's the constant broken sleep that leaves me exhausted and, particularly on these days, frustrated. "Come on, Hannah" I'll grunt from under the covers. Great. Now I'm upset with my little innocent baby after an entire day of pointing my toddler to the time-out chair in her room. All I want is to sleep it off and wake up with a fresh start, but I can't even do that.
Last week seemed like this vicious cycle was on repeat. I wake up tired, but want to have a good day. I decide to surprise Lyla with breakfast in bed. While flipping pancakes, I'm trying to brush off the day before by taking some cleansing breaths and concentrating on today. I start to think of fun things to do with the girls. Maybe the library for some new bedtime stories, and a trip to the mall to treat Lyla to her favorite giant soft pretzel. Just as I'm finished putting together Lyla's breakfast - blueberry pancakes, sliced fruit, and a juice box (usually just used for school), I am so excited to hear that she is awake over the monitor. I grab the tray of food and head into her room. "Good morning my girl! I made you some breakfast to eat in bed for a treat". Aaaaaaaand meltdown. She was so upset because usually when I make blueberry pancakes, I let her put the blueberries in. I can feel my blood start to boil but try to keep my cool, explaining that next time she can help mommy but that I wanted to surprise her. No dice. At this point, Hannah is blaring over the monitor, awake and in need of a diaper change and breakfast. I ended up throwing the pancakes away, which sent Lyla into an even further panicked tantrum. I just walked away, closing the bedroom door behind me when I went in to get Hannah, and had a meltdown myself. It was only 7am.
Last week was particularly bad. The worst I've felt as a parent, the worst I've seen Lyla behave, and the crankiest Hannah has been since her sad-belly days. I was so unbelievably overwhelmed, and on top of if all, sustained a foot injury that has prevented me from training and, potentially, even running the half marathon. As shitty as last week was, it makes me truly appreciate the good days, like today, where Lyla was so kind and sweet, and didn't have one time out. We did crafts, danced, watched TV and ate dessert. Now, the question again, is it them, or me? Sure, Lyla was great today, but I also felt back to my cool-calm-collected ways. So who was last week really about? Either way, I came out of it totally beat up.
I keep telling fellow moms that I don't know whether it's my kids, or me. Are they both going through tough stages, or am I just being intolerant? Sure, Hannah's separation anxiety is in full force and I can not put her down these days, and Lyla's "questions phase" has grown to at least 800 per day. Probably more. But as the mom, aren't I supposed to just be able to handle these things? Sure, I have my Super-Mom days where I keep the 18lb baby on my hip all day and answer each and every one of Lyla's questions with grueling detail and explanation, all while juggling meal time, chores, and Lyla's love of crafts. But then there are what I call the mom-fail days.
Okay, that's not a very fair name for them, but at the end of one of these days, that's how I'm left feeling - like I failed. I should have done this. I should have been able to handle that. These are the days where the screams go right through me. Where the first "cause why???" that comes out of Lyla's mouth makes me want to go hide under a rock until this phase is over. Meltdowns from both kids are in full swing; from Hannah because I put her down for two seconds so I could pee, and Lyla because she refuses to walk to the bathroom and get a tissue herself. These are the days, the mom-fail days, where my vocal chords get to stretch their wings. "KNOCK IT OFF! GO TO YOUR ROOM! NO TV! NO DESSERT!" So again, I ask, is it them, or me? One mom told me "it's always them" - I like that, but I never, ever feel good at the end of these days. I've never let out a good scream and thought "man, that felt good". In fact, I'm pretty sure I usually un-do any punishing by simply feeling bad, and going into Lyla's room, curling her up on my lap, explaining why mommy got so upset, and then apologizing for my reaction - but not always. On mom-fail days, I stay upset. Because I stay upset, the next little thing she does sends her right back into her time out chair, without any chances. And it's always in these moments that Hannah is at her worst; flailing in my arms or scooting around on the floor begging to be picked up. On mom-fail days, whether it's them or me, it never settles down. It is non-stop, zero tolerance, constant yelling, absolute failure of a day - both with their actions and my ability to handle it.
On top of it, the day doesn't end at bedtime. Hannah has not slept for more than 3-4 hour chunks at night since her arrival 9 months ago, and it never fails that once I climb into our warm, cozy bed, the cries begin. Luckily, she goes back down easily - a quick nursing session or a pacifier-pop - but it's the constant broken sleep that leaves me exhausted and, particularly on these days, frustrated. "Come on, Hannah" I'll grunt from under the covers. Great. Now I'm upset with my little innocent baby after an entire day of pointing my toddler to the time-out chair in her room. All I want is to sleep it off and wake up with a fresh start, but I can't even do that.
Last week seemed like this vicious cycle was on repeat. I wake up tired, but want to have a good day. I decide to surprise Lyla with breakfast in bed. While flipping pancakes, I'm trying to brush off the day before by taking some cleansing breaths and concentrating on today. I start to think of fun things to do with the girls. Maybe the library for some new bedtime stories, and a trip to the mall to treat Lyla to her favorite giant soft pretzel. Just as I'm finished putting together Lyla's breakfast - blueberry pancakes, sliced fruit, and a juice box (usually just used for school), I am so excited to hear that she is awake over the monitor. I grab the tray of food and head into her room. "Good morning my girl! I made you some breakfast to eat in bed for a treat". Aaaaaaaand meltdown. She was so upset because usually when I make blueberry pancakes, I let her put the blueberries in. I can feel my blood start to boil but try to keep my cool, explaining that next time she can help mommy but that I wanted to surprise her. No dice. At this point, Hannah is blaring over the monitor, awake and in need of a diaper change and breakfast. I ended up throwing the pancakes away, which sent Lyla into an even further panicked tantrum. I just walked away, closing the bedroom door behind me when I went in to get Hannah, and had a meltdown myself. It was only 7am.
Last week was particularly bad. The worst I've felt as a parent, the worst I've seen Lyla behave, and the crankiest Hannah has been since her sad-belly days. I was so unbelievably overwhelmed, and on top of if all, sustained a foot injury that has prevented me from training and, potentially, even running the half marathon. As shitty as last week was, it makes me truly appreciate the good days, like today, where Lyla was so kind and sweet, and didn't have one time out. We did crafts, danced, watched TV and ate dessert. Now, the question again, is it them, or me? Sure, Lyla was great today, but I also felt back to my cool-calm-collected ways. So who was last week really about? Either way, I came out of it totally beat up.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Slow Down!
Lately, I've been totally freaking out about just how fast these girls are growing up. Anytime either of them does anything new, I find myself more sad than glad about it - how terrible is that? When Lyla came out of her bedroom dressed from head to toe entirely on her own, I was proud, and then put on a big she-doesn't-need-my-anymore pout. When Hannah started sitting up, I couldn't help but think "didn't you just start lifting up your head" no, more like "aren't I still pregnant?"
I find myself in a bit of a panic, wanting to just freeze time. I'm especially cherishing Hannah, because aside form getting zero sleep, I absolutely love having a baby. So cuddly, smiley, totally dependent on you - it's the best feeling. She'll be 7 months old in about a week - she's more than half way done being a baby! The big first birthday marks the official start of toddlerhood - it's already coming too quickly. I can't believe how much faster it goes with your 2nd child. Everyone has told me this, but I could never imagine that I would blink and 7 months would fly by. I'm sure for me especially this time around seemed faster because of my happiness and exponentially better circumstances. But seriously. 5 more months of having a baby! That seems like no time at all and all I want is for it to slow down.
And Lyla. Oh this child. We watched our wedding video on our anniversary, and I couldn't BELIEVE the difference a year had made. Sure, looking back at pictures I can tell her hair is a bit longer, face has matured a bit, and that she's taller, but there's nothing like listening to the verbal difference. Obviously when you're as lucky as I am to spend every day with your child, you're not going to see these changes happen in such extremes, but watching that video somehow made me feel like I missed it.
Ever since the tragic shooting, I have never been more grateful for my ability to be a stay at home mom. I've hugged them a little longer and have been especially aware of being present with them. It's such a scary thought to know that anything could happen - any day, any time. The fact that this precious time with them seems to be slipping away too quickly makes that thought all the more worse. Days never drag. I am never bored. Even just sitting and staring at them gives me joy - and something to do.
In less than 2 years Lyla will be in school full time, and Hannah will be on her way to starting pre-school. My stay-at-home days are numbered. One thing I've read time and time again is that people on their death beds have confessed that their one wish is that they worked less. I am so fortunate that right now my work is motherhood. It's a full time job that lasts the rest of your life. I have such respect for mothers who have to go back to work after having their babies because I can't imagine how hard it must be to be away from them. I am ever so lucky to have the ability to stay home, and because of it, I work my ass off every single day to be the best mother I can be. I'll never regret my decision to stay home, and the last thing I want is to look back and think I could have worked harder. 2 years will fly by like nothing. How I wish I could freeze this time with them; with Hannah so rolly-polly and playful, and Lyla so sweet and fun.
Too fast, too fast, too fast!
Ever since the tragic shooting, I have never been more grateful for my ability to be a stay at home mom. I've hugged them a little longer and have been especially aware of being present with them. It's such a scary thought to know that anything could happen - any day, any time. The fact that this precious time with them seems to be slipping away too quickly makes that thought all the more worse. Days never drag. I am never bored. Even just sitting and staring at them gives me joy - and something to do.
In less than 2 years Lyla will be in school full time, and Hannah will be on her way to starting pre-school. My stay-at-home days are numbered. One thing I've read time and time again is that people on their death beds have confessed that their one wish is that they worked less. I am so fortunate that right now my work is motherhood. It's a full time job that lasts the rest of your life. I have such respect for mothers who have to go back to work after having their babies because I can't imagine how hard it must be to be away from them. I am ever so lucky to have the ability to stay home, and because of it, I work my ass off every single day to be the best mother I can be. I'll never regret my decision to stay home, and the last thing I want is to look back and think I could have worked harder. 2 years will fly by like nothing. How I wish I could freeze this time with them; with Hannah so rolly-polly and playful, and Lyla so sweet and fun.
Too fast, too fast, too fast!
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Tough Times
It goes without saying that seeing your child in pain is one of the worst things to witness, especially when a quick kiss from mommy doesn't fix the problem.
Hannah is without a doubt one of the happiest, best babies I've ever seen; so smiley, super cuddly, go-with-the-flow...that is, until her belly starts to hurt. Then my poor baby girl is so uncomfortable that she practically turns blue from crying. As much as it hurts her, it may even hurt me more to have to sit back and watch her in such pain & know there is little I can do to comfort her.
Dating back to when she was 2 weeks old, we had our suspicions that her stomach bothered her. This was when the doctor had advised me to cut dairy out of my diet since I'm nursing. It seemed to do the trick for a while, but she suddenly became uncomfortable again. So, all soy products went out the door for me. This barely made a difference, if any.
5 months later with several doctors visits and 2 trips to the ER and we still have no answers as to why our baby girl has this discomfort. It's exhausting to get through what we call a "sad belly day"; both because its hard to watch and because she doesn't let you put her down on these days. She's especially clingy to me when she's not feeling well, which can be difficult when Eric wants to spend time with her and all she does is cry for me.
It's also hard when Lyla needs me. Whether its needing help with a task or just wanting to read books or do a puzzle, it's almost impossible on days where keeping Hannah happy means constant walking and bouncing. I've tried to include Lyla by playing "marching band" around the house where we shake shakers and sing songs as we march around. But I feel terrible telling her that mommy can't do something because Hannah needs me. Ive always said that when moms get pregnant, they should grow an extra set of arms along with their big belly.
Whatever is going on with Hannah's belly is also effecting her sleep. For the last couple of months (where her belly as been at its worst) she has only been sleeping a max of 2 hours at a time, and waking as often as every 20 minutes. Needless to say, it's exhausting.
We have an appointment with the GI specialist next week and all I can do is pray for some explanation. I like to be as organic as possible when it comes to my kids; only giving them medicine when it's extremely necessary, strictly sticking to breast milk instead of formula for the first year, etc - but seeing hannah this way makes me hope that maybe there IS some medicine out there to help her, or that adding formula will help (although doctors doubt it since breast milk is specifically formulated for her)
All I want is an answer. I am going to be extremely upset if we leave that appointment next week with no answers and I have to continue to watch my baby girl go through spurts if such discomfort. It's been one of the most difficult things I've had to go through as a mother.
Hannah is without a doubt one of the happiest, best babies I've ever seen; so smiley, super cuddly, go-with-the-flow...that is, until her belly starts to hurt. Then my poor baby girl is so uncomfortable that she practically turns blue from crying. As much as it hurts her, it may even hurt me more to have to sit back and watch her in such pain & know there is little I can do to comfort her.
Dating back to when she was 2 weeks old, we had our suspicions that her stomach bothered her. This was when the doctor had advised me to cut dairy out of my diet since I'm nursing. It seemed to do the trick for a while, but she suddenly became uncomfortable again. So, all soy products went out the door for me. This barely made a difference, if any.
5 months later with several doctors visits and 2 trips to the ER and we still have no answers as to why our baby girl has this discomfort. It's exhausting to get through what we call a "sad belly day"; both because its hard to watch and because she doesn't let you put her down on these days. She's especially clingy to me when she's not feeling well, which can be difficult when Eric wants to spend time with her and all she does is cry for me.
It's also hard when Lyla needs me. Whether its needing help with a task or just wanting to read books or do a puzzle, it's almost impossible on days where keeping Hannah happy means constant walking and bouncing. I've tried to include Lyla by playing "marching band" around the house where we shake shakers and sing songs as we march around. But I feel terrible telling her that mommy can't do something because Hannah needs me. Ive always said that when moms get pregnant, they should grow an extra set of arms along with their big belly.
Whatever is going on with Hannah's belly is also effecting her sleep. For the last couple of months (where her belly as been at its worst) she has only been sleeping a max of 2 hours at a time, and waking as often as every 20 minutes. Needless to say, it's exhausting.
We have an appointment with the GI specialist next week and all I can do is pray for some explanation. I like to be as organic as possible when it comes to my kids; only giving them medicine when it's extremely necessary, strictly sticking to breast milk instead of formula for the first year, etc - but seeing hannah this way makes me hope that maybe there IS some medicine out there to help her, or that adding formula will help (although doctors doubt it since breast milk is specifically formulated for her)
All I want is an answer. I am going to be extremely upset if we leave that appointment next week with no answers and I have to continue to watch my baby girl go through spurts if such discomfort. It's been one of the most difficult things I've had to go through as a mother.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Letters to Lyla and Hannah
When Lyla was born, I started one of those "Baby's First Year" calendars for her, and I quite literally wrote down everything; from people who visited to each and every new food tasted. Her baby photo album was quickly turned into a scrap book when I decided to cut and paste cards people had given her and add them to the photos, instead of keeping them all in an old shoe box that would sit in a basement and looked at once in a blue moon. However, since she turned one, and the big 1st birthday photos were printed and photo-albumed, I've been slacking.
With all the photos I take and upload to our computer and Facebook albums, I keep thinking "they're there when I need them" ...and now 2 years have gone by without the print out of a single picture to add to her albums. It's even worse with Hannah. I started her baby book the same way I did Lyla's: pee stick (yes, I kept them), ultra sounds and growing belly pictures. However, no actual pictures of Hannah have been printed/added since her arrival! How terrible is that? I immediately upload them all to Facebook and email them to our digital frame, as well as friends and family members, but my laziness has taken over when it comes to taking to trip to the store with my sim card.
So I decided I'll do something new. Something that requires my efforts once a year, instead of every new milestone. (And I'm sure I'll eventually get to printing out the years worth of pictures I need...)
Every year I am going to write each of my girls a letter. A letter that will talk about who they are, favorite toys, acitivites & foods, who their friends are, what we spend our days doing, and even the struggles we may be having (ie. Lyla wanting to wear underwear through the night but unable to keep them dry). This way, each year they can see how they've grown, what new milestones they've reached, and always be able to look back on these younger years. I'd also like to include a photo from the time the letter is written, and maybe a picture they colored or additional photo of a favorite outfit or item. I think that as the years go by and these letters and photos add up, it will tell a cool-tale of my girls and how they've become the people they have. It will also be fun to check in with last years letter to see what new things they are able to do as "big girls" that they may have struggled with the year before.
My plan is to try and write them around the same time each year - whether that be near the holidays to talk about all the excitement and what they may be asking for, or closer to their birthdays to mark the new year. Either way I think the girls will enjoy having them, and I know I will love looking back and re-reading them. You never know the things you may forget! I want to remember every moment with these little girls of mine <3
With all the photos I take and upload to our computer and Facebook albums, I keep thinking "they're there when I need them" ...and now 2 years have gone by without the print out of a single picture to add to her albums. It's even worse with Hannah. I started her baby book the same way I did Lyla's: pee stick (yes, I kept them), ultra sounds and growing belly pictures. However, no actual pictures of Hannah have been printed/added since her arrival! How terrible is that? I immediately upload them all to Facebook and email them to our digital frame, as well as friends and family members, but my laziness has taken over when it comes to taking to trip to the store with my sim card.
So I decided I'll do something new. Something that requires my efforts once a year, instead of every new milestone. (And I'm sure I'll eventually get to printing out the years worth of pictures I need...)
Every year I am going to write each of my girls a letter. A letter that will talk about who they are, favorite toys, acitivites & foods, who their friends are, what we spend our days doing, and even the struggles we may be having (ie. Lyla wanting to wear underwear through the night but unable to keep them dry). This way, each year they can see how they've grown, what new milestones they've reached, and always be able to look back on these younger years. I'd also like to include a photo from the time the letter is written, and maybe a picture they colored or additional photo of a favorite outfit or item. I think that as the years go by and these letters and photos add up, it will tell a cool-tale of my girls and how they've become the people they have. It will also be fun to check in with last years letter to see what new things they are able to do as "big girls" that they may have struggled with the year before.
My plan is to try and write them around the same time each year - whether that be near the holidays to talk about all the excitement and what they may be asking for, or closer to their birthdays to mark the new year. Either way I think the girls will enjoy having them, and I know I will love looking back and re-reading them. You never know the things you may forget! I want to remember every moment with these little girls of mine <3
Friday, October 5, 2012
Adorable, memorable moment
Yesterday, Lyla and I (along with Hannah and Petey in tow) went walking around the neighborhood collecting the freshly fallen leaves. As we strolled along, she looked up at me and said "Know what mom? I could call Eric 'daddy', because he is my daddy, but I'm going to keep calling him Eric because he's always been my Eric."
Gush.
I love the innocence of the 3 year old mind, and I love hearing her little views of the world. She's right, he has always been her Eric. Well, technically, first he was "Era" and then "Eca" - but I think it's funny how she recognizes him as her daddy, but feels an attachment to calling him Eric. Almost like it's a special thing between them, that only they share, because she finished this conversation by saying "Hannah can just call him daddy, but he's my Eric"
<3
Gush.
I love the innocence of the 3 year old mind, and I love hearing her little views of the world. She's right, he has always been her Eric. Well, technically, first he was "Era" and then "Eca" - but I think it's funny how she recognizes him as her daddy, but feels an attachment to calling him Eric. Almost like it's a special thing between them, that only they share, because she finished this conversation by saying "Hannah can just call him daddy, but he's my Eric"
<3
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Feeling Helpless
Lyla has given us a rough few days this week, and admittedly, I've felt a bit helpless. I'm not sure if it's the "normal" 3 year old behavior, her getting sick, or learning lovely new things from other kids at school - but it's been tough.
Yesterday was the worst.
Now, I can deal with the usual toddler-defiance-power struggle-game. But yesterday was different; talking back at every chance, demanding things "NOW", sheer panic when she didn't get her way, and ear curdling screams. And I exhausted every parenting tactic there is. I calmly talked. I gave chances. I gave warnings. I took away dessert. I raised my voice. I sat and rocked with her. I walked away. Nothing was helping, nothing was calming her down. As easy as it would have been to give in and give her dessert before dinner or let her watch more TV - what would that teach her? Nothing. I didn't want her to think that this behavior was okay or would get her what she wanted, and so, I let her scream. I let her be angry. I stuck to my word.
She eventually settled down, fell asleep, and woke up my loving, happy toddler again. But once dinner time approached and she asked about dessert, she was reminded that because of her previous behavior, she was not allowed a dessert. Now, being 3 is all about the power. She wants to be in control, and panics when she's not. So, in my best attempt to distract her, I kindly stated that she could not have dessert after dinner, but tomorrow would be a better day. "What do you think you'll have for dessert tomorrow, Ly?" I asked.
Cue round 2.
"NO! NOT tomorrow! I want dessert NOW! NOWWWWWW!" And there go my ear drums. Once again, I exhaust all methods - calmly explaining, attempting to distract, placing her in time out while she calms down....still nothing. She screamed so loud and so much that I was sure she would come out of it with no voice. I can't imagine what our neighbors were thinking. I felt completely and utterly helpless. I had to stick to my word and show Lyla that she was indeed not the boss, and that this was not okay behavior - but the feeling of not being able to calm my daughter down was the worst. I finally placed her in her room, shut the door, looked at Eric and put my hands up in defeat. For the first time in my journey of motherhood, I didn't know what to do.
I don't know what has changed. Normally, I can talk Lyla down from any tantrum. Even when reminding her of something less favorable, like getting dessert taken away, she usually (so adorably) responds with "I'll just have one tomorrow! Maybe some chocolate! Mmmm!" But this week, her responses are totally out of control, and I feel terrible that I can't help her feel better. She seems to be having a real hard time expressing herself and using her words when something isn't going the way she wants. Even the other day when she was being dropped off after a birthday party, Eric was putting her shoes on so she could walk into the house, and she didn't want them on. So, she started kicking him and melted into a giant puddle of tears and flailing extremities. Hello? Words? "I don't want my shoes on, Eric" would have sufficed - which she normally responds with! I have no idea why the sudden change, and even worse, no idea how to prevent or help it.
Throughout the day, I am constantly giving her positive reinforcement. Anytime she uses manners, says something politely, uses her words instead of actions, does something kind...I always am aware of it and sure to praise her for it. Especially lately, when I feel I'm doing more scolding than praising. Even when talking to Hannah, I usually "chat" about Lyla, saying things like "you have the BEST big sister who is doing a really good job eating her lunch!" Whatever Lyla is going through, I want her to know that Eric and I notice all the good, too.
But this new demanding, overly emotional, defiant Lyla is something we're struggling with. It reared it's ugly face again this morning when she woke up and wanted to watch TV; something we didn't have time to do because it was a school morning. I reminded her of this, and told her that we'd have plenty of time to watch a show later, and maybe even make a special snack to eat, too. But no. "NOW NOW NOW". Luckily, the waterworks managed to stay at bay, but I cringed a little inside at the site of my sweet girl acting, well, not so sweet.
Something's up. She's even been crying when I drop her off at school which she's never done. I made her teachers aware of her new behavior at home, in hopes that they may keep an extra eye on her at school to indicate whether or not something is going on there. Eric and I have talked about trying to give her even more attention at home, in hopes that this all may just be a cry for more.
But this sucks. And I feel helpless. And don't know what to do, for the first time in 3 years.
Yesterday was the worst.
Now, I can deal with the usual toddler-defiance-power struggle-game. But yesterday was different; talking back at every chance, demanding things "NOW", sheer panic when she didn't get her way, and ear curdling screams. And I exhausted every parenting tactic there is. I calmly talked. I gave chances. I gave warnings. I took away dessert. I raised my voice. I sat and rocked with her. I walked away. Nothing was helping, nothing was calming her down. As easy as it would have been to give in and give her dessert before dinner or let her watch more TV - what would that teach her? Nothing. I didn't want her to think that this behavior was okay or would get her what she wanted, and so, I let her scream. I let her be angry. I stuck to my word.
She eventually settled down, fell asleep, and woke up my loving, happy toddler again. But once dinner time approached and she asked about dessert, she was reminded that because of her previous behavior, she was not allowed a dessert. Now, being 3 is all about the power. She wants to be in control, and panics when she's not. So, in my best attempt to distract her, I kindly stated that she could not have dessert after dinner, but tomorrow would be a better day. "What do you think you'll have for dessert tomorrow, Ly?" I asked.
Cue round 2.
"NO! NOT tomorrow! I want dessert NOW! NOWWWWWW!" And there go my ear drums. Once again, I exhaust all methods - calmly explaining, attempting to distract, placing her in time out while she calms down....still nothing. She screamed so loud and so much that I was sure she would come out of it with no voice. I can't imagine what our neighbors were thinking. I felt completely and utterly helpless. I had to stick to my word and show Lyla that she was indeed not the boss, and that this was not okay behavior - but the feeling of not being able to calm my daughter down was the worst. I finally placed her in her room, shut the door, looked at Eric and put my hands up in defeat. For the first time in my journey of motherhood, I didn't know what to do.
I don't know what has changed. Normally, I can talk Lyla down from any tantrum. Even when reminding her of something less favorable, like getting dessert taken away, she usually (so adorably) responds with "I'll just have one tomorrow! Maybe some chocolate! Mmmm!" But this week, her responses are totally out of control, and I feel terrible that I can't help her feel better. She seems to be having a real hard time expressing herself and using her words when something isn't going the way she wants. Even the other day when she was being dropped off after a birthday party, Eric was putting her shoes on so she could walk into the house, and she didn't want them on. So, she started kicking him and melted into a giant puddle of tears and flailing extremities. Hello? Words? "I don't want my shoes on, Eric" would have sufficed - which she normally responds with! I have no idea why the sudden change, and even worse, no idea how to prevent or help it.
Throughout the day, I am constantly giving her positive reinforcement. Anytime she uses manners, says something politely, uses her words instead of actions, does something kind...I always am aware of it and sure to praise her for it. Especially lately, when I feel I'm doing more scolding than praising. Even when talking to Hannah, I usually "chat" about Lyla, saying things like "you have the BEST big sister who is doing a really good job eating her lunch!" Whatever Lyla is going through, I want her to know that Eric and I notice all the good, too.
But this new demanding, overly emotional, defiant Lyla is something we're struggling with. It reared it's ugly face again this morning when she woke up and wanted to watch TV; something we didn't have time to do because it was a school morning. I reminded her of this, and told her that we'd have plenty of time to watch a show later, and maybe even make a special snack to eat, too. But no. "NOW NOW NOW". Luckily, the waterworks managed to stay at bay, but I cringed a little inside at the site of my sweet girl acting, well, not so sweet.
Something's up. She's even been crying when I drop her off at school which she's never done. I made her teachers aware of her new behavior at home, in hopes that they may keep an extra eye on her at school to indicate whether or not something is going on there. Eric and I have talked about trying to give her even more attention at home, in hopes that this all may just be a cry for more.
But this sucks. And I feel helpless. And don't know what to do, for the first time in 3 years.
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