Motherhood: A Horrible Carnival Ride

Posted on May 3, 2012 by Allison @ Motherhood, WTF?

The absolute worst and hardest part of parenting is the emotional toll it takes. For me, it’s a constant roller coaster and I just want to get off; I don’t like roller coasters. I’m tired of all of the negative feelings – frustration, anger, embarrassment, self-pity, guilt, recrimination. These all center around L and I’m certain that not everyone has to go to such extremes.

If I had two kids like S, life would be good. I’d have it so easy. I’d deal with “normal” child issues like crankiness, hunger, frustration, boredom. But they’d all be low on the Richter scale. L is a huge earthquake. He is more than I bargained for. It feels unfair. Why am I the mom who constantly has to physically drag her 40 pound child up the stairs for a time-out? Why do I have to break a sweat just to get through the process of putting him to bed? I made the same choices as another mom who only has easy kids. Why did I get such a hard one? <——-This paragraph is all about self-pity.

Next comes guilt. So many people have real problems to deal with. Sick children. Children who can’t feed themselves, will never walk, will not live to see adulthood. Those parents would give anything to trade their problems with mine. I have a perfectly healthy little boy. <——I’m very good at guilt.

Next up, recrimination: I shouldn’t feel this way. L clearly is struggling with controlling his larger-than-life emotions coupled with his ridiculously high energy. My job is to help him not resent him. If I were a softer landing-place for him, he’d probably thrive. I am not a good enough mother for him.

The truth is, L is exactly the child I deserve. I was not an easy kid. I was outspoken and hated how little control I had over my life. I longed to be an adult. Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that I ~~have~~ had a huge problem dealing with authority. I do did not like being told what to do, where to be, how to act. And, unfortunately, I felt it was perfectly within my rights to say so. This got me into more than my share of trouble.

I should be able to understand L and know what he needs because I went through such similar feelings as a kid, right? Somehow, it’s not working out that way. What thing did I need to hear from my parents or teachers to help me accept their authority and my place as a subordinate? I think the answer is probably “nothing.” Childhood was just something I had to wait out. I wouldn’t go back for anything. I do like being an adult and in control of my life. Now that I am the authority figure, I don’t think authority is so bad.

So we know where L gets his audacity and stubbornness from. But that energy? That’s not mine. That’s beyond what I can even tolerate. It’s like being on a racquetball court with balls bouncing all around everywhere. All I can do is duck, cover, and wait for it to be over while I’m pummeled all day. The energy is from T. But he didn’t have the defiance to go along with it. It’s the combo that’s a killer.

So I guess this means that I just need to duck and cover for another 20 years or so and then L will come into his own. I see right where this revelation is leading me. Straight back to self-pity as my roller coaster begins its slow ascent again.

Please let me off. I’m feeling a bit sick and dizzy.

Kids Say the Darnedest Things

Posted on April 26, 2012 by Allison @ Motherhood, WTF?

We all know that kids parrot what they hear. So if you swear, be prepared for embarrassing situations with your toddler. If you say mean things about relatives, your spouse, or your boss, be ready for those things to come right out of your child’s mouth at the most inopportune times.

When you have more than one child, the younger one doesn’t just have you to learn bad things from. This is a problem. Sometimes S says things in public that I’m certain people assume I say in private. But I don’t. She’s learned them from L.

For example:

One of S’s favorite things to say to me when she’s mad is, “When we get home, I’m going to hit you!”

This totally sounds like something a parent might say to a child in a moment of teeth-clenched public rage. But I never said it! I do plenty of bad things as a mom, but I don’t hit my kids. Or threaten to hit them. (I have pinched though.)

This is something she’s learned from L. He says things like this to her all the time. Because he’s a menacing jerk. But he doesn’t usually follow through. He just likes to make her scared and cry. (See previous menacing jerk comment.)

How can I make it known that I did not say this to her? I feel like I need a t-shirt that says, “Please excuse my daughter. She has a bad big brother.”

PDF: Public Display of Failure

Posted on April 13, 2012 by Allison @ Motherhood, WTF?

The Scene: the lobby of the dance school where L takes his acrobat class

The cast: me, L, approximately 20 other parents and maybe 10 other children

The situation: L doesn’t want to go into his class

The time: 4:30 PM

The scene unfolds in nightmarish fashion. The sounds are too loud, echoing off of the high ceilings and hard floors. L has made his case and now stands an the other end of a long row of seats, all of which are occupied by onlookers. His thumbs are in his ears; his fingers wiggle at me tauntingly; his tongue is out.

I step to the right. He counters with a step to the left. I move left. He moves right. This is a stand-off. This is a stand-off with an audience.

This is what I hate most.

He is loving this. He’s pushing is favorite button. He’s laughing. He’s laughing at my impotence.

“L, you come here right now, please. This is not OK.” I try my most serious tone of voice. One that tells these other parents that I DO NOT take this kind of blatant disrespect lightly. One that tells L that when we are alone I might just strangle him.

“Haha!” He taunts back in a tone that lets the other parents know that he runs the show. A tone that lets me know that he does not give a flying crap about what I think, say, or do.

I will not run after him and give him the gratification of a chase with an audience. I edge to my right, he to his left, soon we are facing each other across the depth of a chair rather than the length of the row. I growl quietly, “If you do not get into that classroom immediately, you will not get any Chinese food tonight.” Thankfully that works.

I am left mortified. At a loss. I’ve never seen anyone else’s child do something like this, which leads me to believe that some part of L is broken. Some part that makes him inherently respect and fear me. How can he be so brazen?

45 minutes into his hour-long class his teacher comes out with L in tow. “Sorry, I just can’t keep him in there anymore. He refuses to practice the routine and he’s running around and tripping the other kids.”

OMG. He’s a monster.

Again, I’m in front of this audience. “You did WHAT? Sit down right there until you’re ready to be nice.” I plan on ignoring him. I want him to sit for the next 15 minutes until he can apologize to the teacher when the class is over. He breaks down into tears. Big, sobbing tears.

“I hate myself. I always get in trouble at school and here too. I’m just so starving. Please take me home for dinner. I’m so so hungry.” He tries to wrap himself up in my arms.

Damn. He did complain about being hungry before class. I didn’t pack him the greatest lunch today. He probably is really hungry. He hates himself? A piece of my heart breaks.

“You don’t always get into trouble. Your teachers always tell me how good you are at school, and this is the first time you’ve ever gotten into trouble here. But what you did is not OK.” My arms are now around him, despite myself.

“Please, please take me home. I’m just so hungry.”

I took him home. I fed him dinner which he ate with gusto and zeal. 3 servings. He was hungry. I told him that his behavior was not acceptable, no matter how hungry he was. I relayed the whole story to T, including how disappointed I was. More tears.

What am I doing wrong? I feel like I’m not a pushover, but maybe I am? Maybe I shouldn’t have given in, made him sit there for 15 minutes? At the time I felt like punishment wasn’t what he needed. What he needed was dinner. I try to balance being tough on him with being empathetic and caring. But I must have something off for him to challenge me the way he did. Right?

I feel like I’ve tried everything. I feel like I’ve said that I’m at my wit’s end a thousand times. I am so tired of having to live out scenes like yesterday’s on the public stage.

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Posted on April 4, 2012 by Allison @ Motherhood, WTF?

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It’s 11:40 AM and I’m tempted to keep L up in his room until T comes home tonight at 5:30. The last couple of days he’s been astonishingly rude and obnoxious, culminating in a playdate (with a little girl he loves) where he told her he wished she would die, that he never wants to play with her, etc. I drove 25 minutes to a park that we spent 10 minutes in before I had to drag him out. Poor S was so happy at the park. Poor me was looking forward to having actual conversation with another mom.

He told me I’m the meanest mother. He told me I’m the worst mother in the world. Truth is, maybe I am? I must be to have raised this child.

He’s been doing so well lately. I thought we turned a corner. Is he never going to get easier?

I don’t know how to just move on and face the rest of the day with him. I feel so angry and disappointed and frustrated. I don’t think I have it in me to play with him any time soon. How long is too long to punish a kid for being a colossal jerk? Me disliking him seems like the only natural consequence, but that can’t be what I’m supposed to do.

Somehow I’m meant to compartmentalize things. I’m meant to not take things personally. I’m meant to not feel emotional responses to his outbursts. Who can do any of that? Are we supposed to magically become automatons when we have children? I’m a person and when I’m not treated well, when I’m embarrassed, or ashamed, or frustrated I feel it. I don’t know how to turn that off.

Winning Parenting Moments

Posted on March 26, 2012 by Allison @ Motherhood, WTF?

We all have those moments. (Don’t we??) You know, the times when you’re glad you’re not overheard or observed because you absolutely suck as a parent. Being the mom who makes you feel better about your parenting, I can assure you that I have lots of these moments. Here are a couple from just the last week:

me: L, you choose how to behave. Think about what you’re about to do. Think about your choices. (<—- Good parenting)

L: No! YOU think about YOUR choices! (<—- Bad child)

me: Trust me, I am. Right now I’m thinking about my choice to have kids! (<— Bad parenting)

Yup, that’s right. In a moment of anger I told my 5-year-old that I’m rethinking things, and in retrospect, I think that maybe I won’t go off the pill after all. Instead, I choose to be thin, well-rested and rich. I wiggled my nose but nothing happened.

I’m not the only crappy parent in my house. Here’s one for the menfolk:

L: (bouncing a ball in the house after being told not to) See? I didn’t break anything, so HA! (<—- Obnoxious child)

T: If you bounce that ball in here again you will have to sleep outside for the rest of your life. (<—- Bad parenting)

There’s something about one’s own children that can bring a person to his/her worst self in a matter of seconds. I can be a totally happy, reasonable grown-up one minute and with the smallest of efforts, one of my kids can transform me into my 3-year-old self. I’ve stomped feet. I’ve cried. I’ve yelled. I’ve threatened ridiculous things that no one believes.

How do they do it? Why are they so freaking good at it?

As an adult I have a multitude of jobs and responsibilities, some I’m pretty good at, some passable, and some not so good. As kids, my children only have one job: to find our buttons and push them. It’s all they work on day and night and they are brilliant at it. Truly, they have extraordinary innate talent and unflappable dedication to practicing their craft and sharpening their ~~knives~~ skills. I can try to keep a poker face, even succeed once in a while, but eventually they will get to me. They win every.single.time. Each win strengthens their resolve and their little hearts get just a little blacker.

So, if you don’t think your sweet little children have evil in their hearts, if you haven’t threatened to turn them out of your home forever, and if you haven’t tried to use witchcraft to make it all disappear, then you are doing better than at least one other mother. Congratulations.

I Suck More Than You Do

Posted on February 3, 2012 by Allison @ Motherhood, WTF?

I imagine that the relationships between other mothers and their young (toddler-preschooler) children remain pretty consistently good. Sure there are challenges along the way, but the actual relationship is warm, loving, supportive, not-strained. For some reason, my relationship with L has never been like this. We go through periods where we get along OK, but inevitably every few months we end up back to butting heads over everything.

This is all a surprise to me. I fully expected to need to work on my relationship with my husband, that my relationships with friends would go through ebbs and flows, that my relationships with my siblings and parents would change over time, that my relationships with my kids as they progressed through the teen years into adulthood would have challenges and need extra work. But I never imagined that my biggest struggle would be my relationship with a 4-year-old. What does this say about me?

This is the stuff that’s supposed to just come naturally, right? I’m the mom, therefore my feelings towards my son should involve things like overwhelming love, an overwhelming desire to support him, help him learn and grow, overwhelming wonderment, blah, blah, blah. He’s the child so his feelings towards me should involve things like love, thinking I’m kind of a superhero, thinking I’m the best thing since sliced bread, (despite his overwhelming desire to push boundaries,) etc. I don’t expect a nearly 5-year-old and his mom to never have disagreements, but I would expect the relationship to be straightforward. Ours is not. None of this comes naturally to me. This is all a reflection of my ineptitude. I feel like he is not a child I can parent properly. I am always irritated with him just being him. That can’t be how a mom is supposed to feel.

My “dislike” of all things L isn’t a one way street. He clearly dislikes all things mom too. He always has. He has always worshiped T and somewhat tolerated me. His first sentence was “No Mommy, Daddy!” He used to cry when it was me who came into his room to fetch him from his crib in the morning. And it was me every damn day. He’d throw his toys at me and tell me to go away that he wanted Daddy. Seriously. This started around 10 months of age. Not cool. This preference was supposed to be a phase, but it hasn’t changed one bit.

None of this is right. None of it is how it’s supposed to be. Since he’s the kid, clearly I’m the one doing something wrong. This isn’t a parenting issue that can be solved with trying a new discipline or parenting technique from a book, this is a basic thing that should be natural that I’ve got all wrong. And it’s highlighted daily by the fact that he has a sister who adores me (as she rightly should!) and who I properly adore right back. Even when she’s doing her 2-year-old gig, I “get” her in a way I’ve never gotten L.

I do not want my son to grow up with the constant message that he’s annoying me. But he is annoying me. This whole post makes me sounds like a monster. And I feel like a monster for thinking and feeling this stuff. I feel like it can’t be right. I must be missing some part of me that would make me a good mom for him. I’m hoping there are others out there feeling this! I hope there are others who went through this and now have a wonderful 20-something son to show for it. I just don’t want to ruin this child and I feel like I am.

Marital Bliss, Except at Bedtime

Posted on January 17, 2012 by Allison @ Motherhood, WTF?

I’m struggling with something that I imagine is pretty common, especially for couples where one partner is a stay-at-home parent. So, I want to put it out there and hear what you all do to keep your marriages copacetic. Here’s the scenario:

I’ve been home all day with the kids, or even part of the day with some of the kids if it’s a school day. I’ve made dinner, gotten them fed, lived through the first half of the witching hour (which, in my house, is actually 2 hours – from 5-7,) and then my husband comes home at 6ish. The kids get all wild and wound up to see him and immediately start acting like jack-holes. I’m DONE. I need to walk away from these small people. T also feels like he is done. He’s tired from a long day at work. He’s hungry. He doesn’t think that it’s fair for me to just pass the kids off to him when he walks in the door.

Our kids go to bed early. By 6:30 S is asking to go to bed, and L just gets wilder and wilder the longer he stays up so we try to put him down around 7-7:30. That doesn’t leave any time for T to come home, get some unwind time, and then face the kids. Basically, he walks in, gets to eat if he’s lucky, and then it’s bedtime routine time.

We just can’t agree on this. What do you do? I imagine that this scenario plays out in millions of homes every night. We both end up feeling frustrated, under-appreciated, and aggravated.

It’s Like a Fairy Tale Over Here (Not in a Good Way)

Posted on December 16, 2011 by Allison @ Motherhood, WTF?

Have you heard that “rule” that you’re supposed to say 4 times more positive things to your kids than negative? Do any of you manage that? I don’t. Not by a mile. Actually, I might with S, but with L? Not a chance. Last night I had a revelation: I am like a fairy tale evil stepmother to L. That sucks.

We all know that I love the kid. If I didn’t my life would be so much easier because I wouldn’t be racked with guilt, angst, and worry all the freaking time. But do I like him? Sometimes. I like that he’s curious, polite, empathetic and incredibley kind and sweet (when he wants to be). This is mostly how he is with other people. I dislike that he’s ornery, hyper, always looking for a fight, fresh etc. Those are things most parents dislike. But I go even further. I also dislike just about all of his interests. I find just about every single thing he likes mind-numbingly stupid. We have nothing in common.

Do I want to see him jump from the couch to the table to the chair to the floor and do a flip and run back to the couch in less than 4 seconds? No. Please don’t do any of those things.

Do I want to go for a bike ride in search of bad guys and shoot them with sticks and throw rocks and scream as loud as we can? No. I want to do none of that.

OK, so most of you probably are thinking that this is just normal 4-year-old boy stuff and of course I don’t want to do any of it because I’m a grown woman and little boys are stupid. (You were thinking that little boys are stupid, right?) I go even further. I say at least 4 times as many negative things to him than positive on a given day. How is that going to effect him? How can he possibly grow up into a confident, good man when he’s constantly being told that he’s too loud, too wiggly, too annoying, too obnoxious, too fresh, too wild, and just plain old too much all the time? The message he’s getting from me? It must be “GO AWAY I DON’T LIKE YOU.” Or maybe it’s “EVERYTHING YOU THINK AND DO IS WRONG AND ANNOYING.”

Then I realize that those are the messages I’m sending and I try to make up for it by telling him how kind he is. By telling him that I’m so proud that he’s such a great brother. I tell him he’s clever, that he’s cute, that he’s considerate, that he’s funny and that I love him. Then, in his excitement at getting positive attention, he takes a running leap and throws himself through the air and crashes into me. Undoubtedly his intention is to hug me, but instead of just hugging me like a normal person, he manages to knock me over, give me a bloody lip, hurt himself, and somehow knock over a full bowl of cereal and I’m right back to telling him that he’s too wild and not fit to be indoors.

As if all this messaging wasn’t bad enough, at the same time I’m cuddling with S. I’m smothering her in kisses. I’m accepting countless cups of imaginary tea, thanking her for cleaning up, exclaiming about what a big girl she’s becoming. She is receiving a loud and clear message that she’s mostly good, very cute, well-loved, clever, sweet and nearly perfect (if she’d just quit hitting everyone and throwing dramatic fits).

This is why I’m an evil stepmother. I’m leaving my kids with indelible impressions that she is good and he is bad. That she is welcome and he is barely tolerated.

Please tell me I’m not alone in this. Is my son doomed to a life in gangs or something because he’s growing up under the thumb of his evil stepmother?

I Can’t Take Me Anywhere

Posted on December 9, 2011 by Allison @ Motherhood, WTF?

Sometimes I forget where I am. And I’ve been told I have a loud voice. (I wonder where my kids get their loud voices from?) Yesterday I had one of these moments. I looked up from an interaction with S, which ended with me saying, “How do YOU like it?” while tugging on a bit of her hair, to find 6 moms watching me. Whoops.

So this begs the question: do you parent differently in public? (OK, so it also begs questions about me pulling my 2-year-old’s hair.) Can your kids get away with more or less when you’re at someone else’s house? In a store? At school drop off? Waiting outside big brother’s acrobat class?

The scene: L’s acrobat class is from 4:30-5:30 on Thursdays. S and I wait in the lobby of the dance school with the other parents and siblings. Everyone seems perfectly happy except S who is abjectly miserable for the entire hour. She begs to go home, to be fed dinner. She runs, climbs, cries, hits, pushes, throws things, cries more and drags me to the tiny toddler toilet 110 times. On this particular Thursday S was even more unhappy than usual and nothing distracted her from her reign of terror. She poked a girl in the eye, pulled a boy’s hair, yanked toys away from happy children and threw them at unsuspecting adults.

She asked to be picked up. I picked her up. She squirmed to go down. I put her down. She cried. She asked to be picked up. I picked her up. She squirmed to go down. I put her down. She cried. It was in the middle of one of these tiresome hell-cycles that she grabbed handfuls of my hair.

My discipline during this hour was a mixture of stern admonishment, sympathetic affection, distraction and ignoring. Basically just what I do at home, but without the help of my pantry and TV. So I acted as I would anywhere when I pulled her hair and noticed my audience. No one said anything. They looked at me. I looked at them. And then they looked away. Are they thinking I’m a child abuser? Or a normal mom doing normal mom things? Are they wondering what I do behind closed doors if I think it’s perfectly fine to pull my daughter’s hair in public?*

*Just so you all know, whether or not it’s perfectly fine to pull my daughter’s hair, it’s the same thing I would do behind closed doors.

Should I be ashamed to show my face again?

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A Post About S and Grandpa

Posted on November 5, 2011 by Allison @ Motherhood, WTF?

S has memorized the How To Be An Annoying Younger Sibling Handbook. Hell, she may have revised the thing, adding new chapters such as “Sitting on Big Brother’s Head – Appropriate Situations to Employ This Most Dangerous Tactic,” and “When Hurting Yourself is Worth it in the Spririt of Getting Big Brother in Trouble,” and “Let’s Make Sure Mom Drinks Tonight.” My sweet little girl pulls hair, claws eyeballs and puts her own fingers into L’s mouth for him to bite. In her defense, she only does this stuff when she’s bored. And she will handle a whole minute of boredom before resorting to these measures.

She’s most bored when L watches TV. This is problematic for me because I plug L into the TV when I have something to do. Like cook dinner, make a phone call, or not kill him. So while I’m super busy cooking, talking on the phone, or not killing, S is in the other room stirring things up. She’s instigating a monster, and she knows it. She will sit on his head, (keep in mind, she’s usually not wearing anything on her bottom half,) pull his hair and claw at his eyes until he retaliates. In his defense, he has a HUGE tolerance for this type of crap. I have seen him watch an entire Wild Kratts with his sister on his head. When he does retaliate though, he does so with gusto. A swift twist, push and throwing maneuver and S is thrown from the couch altogether. He may leave it at that, or he may leap down after her and then the two are a blur of legs and arms as they wrestle it out on the floor.

L weighs 45 lbs. S weighs 23. Fighting is in L’s DNA. S doesn’t stand a chance.

This morning, L is plugged into a movie while I try to pack up all of our stuff as we can finally head home after a week of living with my parents. We have our electricity back and I can’t wait to get back to our normal lives. S does not want to watch a movie. So, naturally, she grabs a handful of eyeball. Like a pitbull, once she’s latched on, nothing can get her off. L is screaming and I’m yanking on S but she’s glued onto that eyeball. I finally free L from her clutches and put S into a time out. She does not stay in time outs so I am re-putting her in the corner again and again and then something strange happened.

A man came in and scooped her up. He gave her a hug and asked her if she will promise to be good. Through pathetic fake tears, she promises. He then releases her back into her freedom. WTF? Who is this man? He looks like my dad, but can’t be.

When I was growing up, my dad was the scary one. When we were naughty we quickly asked our mother, “Please don’t tell dad??” I think he still doesn’t know about the brand new ski jacket I lost in the 5th grade. (Sorry, Dad.) So who’s this softy letting my daughter out of her time out? I could have used this guy 30 years ago.

I guess the moral here is that we all have to wait about 30 years. Then when our terrible children have terrible children of their own, we can do whatever the eff we want. We can be the nice guy if we used to be the mean guy. We can give them Sugar Puff Honey Crack O’s for breakfast and then give them back to their parents. We can babysit and keep them up way past bedtime. All this is to say, that one day, we will have our revenge. Good things come to those who wait.

Motherhood, WTF?

I'm the mom who makes you feel better about your parenting.

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