The Hot Cocoa Incident of 2012

A friend passed down this camo outfit.  It finally fits!

Last night, Z wanted to go outside as the sun was setting, right as dinnertime was approaching, and Daddy was about to be home.  I suggested that we eat dinner, and go have a special hot cocoa night outside.  We could run around and play during the super cold dark night.  Sounds awesome, right?

He was stoked!

Dad came home, "Dad!!  It's Daddy-dude night and we're going to have hot cocoa outside!!!!"

These are the things we remember as children, the special things we do together as a family.

We ate dinner then I got our clothes ready.  Of course, even though he wanted to go out, didn't want to get dressed.  I reminded him a few times as I warmed the milk, and finally he was dressed.  Yes!

He asked which cup was his.  I asked which one he wanted.  I smiled and pointed, "That's your cup."

Our special Christmas hot cocoa mugs

The curious four-year old that he is, of course he grabbed it to look at it.  I wasn't looking, and hot cocoa went everywhere.  I guess I forgot to tell him his cup was full of cocoa.  Oops.  It splashed from his face, to his toes, into a puddle at his feet, down the counter, on the counter, and hit every dish on the way down.  Thankfully, it wasn't super hot.

He was devastated.  He was covered in cocoa, and of course thought he had lost all his cocoa to top that off.  Immediately, tears welled in his eyes, and I just saw the sadness.  I could feel my heart ache for him.  "My cocoa!!!  Now I don't have any more cocoa!!!  And it's all over me.  Aaaaaahhhhhhh!!!!"

I got down to him, "It's okay.  It's just an accident."  (A really sucky, super messy accident, but an accident)  "Take your shirt off.  Go get a new one.  I'll clean this up.  It's okay."  I smiled.  Tears continued to well up, and it just broke my heart.  He took a deep breath.

Daddy came in and witnessed the mess.  I could see the frustration.  I explained that it was an accident. He didn't want to go outside, "He doesn't even seem to want to go out.  Why are you pushing this?"

I knew he was tired and wanted to chill.  Deep breath.

"Because, he does want to go outside.  He just waiting on me to get the cocoa made, and get us ready, and then we'll go out."

He walked off to help Z find his coat, shaking his head and mumbling.  I just took a deep breath, and cleaned the mess, and it was a mess.

But that's what I do.  Mama Been: mess cleaner.

It was dang near Bodhi's bedtime by now, but he was feeling the energy and excited.

Finally, the cocoa was finished!

I snagged my coat, got Bodhi's on and we headed out.

They dashed out the door, ready to play under the stars on the wintery night.  I thought, "Bodhi doesn't even remember cold like this.  Damn, it's cold."

Bodhi was excited and ran for the bikes.  Z, my little dude with a sweet tooth, sat down for cocoa.

Itty bitty marshmallows.

Pretty tasty!

They were adorable, so bundled up, and so excited.  I took a few pictures.  I said to Daddy, "Keep an eye on Bodhi."  I went to snap a picture and BAM, Bodhi grabbed the hot cocoa and spilled it.

Both boys cried.

The crying stopped when Z realized it wasn't his cocoa, and Bodhi realized it wasn't really that scary.  Whew!  Thankfully only his hand and a small spot on his pants was wet.

It was my cocoa, of course.  That's fine.

Dad was done.  "I'm going inside."

We chalked it up to just a crazy night, and ran to swing under the stars.

We drank cocoa in the tiny house, climbed the playscape, slid a few times, went to swing on the big swing together, all cuddled and bundled up, and by then sweet Bodhi was super tired, and hands and face were so cold.

It's a funny thing about little people.  They strip their gloves, and hat, and feel the cold.  It's so new to them, even if it's a little uncomfortable, they appreciate the novelty of it.  I love seeing the world through their eyes, with their great appreciation for such small things.

We called it a night, and with the promise of heading out again in the morning, dawdled all the way to the door.

I could see the tired smile on the boys faces, and it brought a smile to my face.  We peeled off the layers, and headed up to get ready for bed.  Bodhi fell asleep first, then I headed in to read with Z.

He fell asleep a happy boy.

I've never been a fan of cold, but when there are two small boys reveling in it's joy and mystery, it makes me love it.  There are so many things I didn't appreciate, and overlooked, and made up opinions about, without ever feeling it, before I had children.

I love these boys.

They open my heart, and open my eyes, and see everything as special and something to appreciate, especially the simple stuff, and even when everything is covered in sticky hot cocoa.

Helping brother with his hat

Listen

Yesterday was an epic, repetitive battle of the butting of heads for me and Z.

It began when I woke up and realized I forgot to buy coffee for the morning.  That's pretty much a tragedy, which started the whole day off on the wrong foot.  (Damn you, coffee addiction.)  It didn't help that Z just wanted to mess with Bodhi while I fixed the snack they wanted, which pretty much nixed me doing any morning Yoga at all.  Strike two for me.  I had to almost drag Z into the truck for a coffee run.

As soon as I had my warm soothing sweet mocha in my hands, I asked Z if we could start our day over.  By then I guess I had been so much of a jerk, that his reply was an automatic and stink-eyed, "No."  I took responsibility for my jerkishness and decided I wasn't going to let our day continue like that.

I am not quite sure where things went wrong, but through out the day, we kept butting heads.

He'd knock Bodhi down while looking me in the eye.  I'd respond all wrong.  He'd do it again and I'd yell.  He wouldn't get ready for the pool.  I threatened not to go.  Wrong, just wrong.  Over and over.

My poor mom was there to witness our mini-epic battles of our wills.  She had packed such a beautiful lunch in a cooler for our pool trip, so I was determined to go enjoy the day.  Attitude be damned.  Or so I thought.

We got to the pool, and being 100 degrees outside, I was hot and flustered and still annoyed.  At least I'd have help and he'd get to play with Grandma, while I wandered around with Bodhi.

I swear, between the heat, and our strong-willed nature Z and I were just not seeing eye to eye.  It's supposed to be me who lets it go and does the right thing.  You know, the whole "be the change you want to see" attitude.

The whistle blew and it was time for a break.  He knocked his brother down for the last time, I had decided.  I took the opportunity to pack our stuff up and leave.  We'd been there for hours, enjoyed our picnic, Daddy was about home, and honestly I was done.  He didn't want to leave.  By then I was afraid if I didn't go the day would end worse than it began.

We got to the truck, and he started saying bad words, just to piss me off.  I responded by screaming at him.  I was so angry I didn't care.  It wasn't about power, it was about pure unadulterated anger, seething, with the hundred degree weather adding to the steam under my collar.  We yelled in the truck as my mom tried to make the peace.  I almost wanted to yell a her to stay out of it, but I looked back and saw her heart breaking.  By then, all thoughts of peace were a distant memory.  I decided to try and be quiet.

Gladly, the ride home gave me some time to simmer down a little.  I promised him food, we sat down to eat.  Grandma headed out and I took the boys to the bath.  By then, I was trying my hardest not to be fake, but also not to be a jerk, so I said as little as possible.  He felt me, steaming, and didn't even mess with his brother until we got out of the bath.  I asked him to sit in his room, okay, I made him, before I lost it again.  I was determined for us to cool off.

Finally, he came downstairs, and I went to take his brother to bed.  The whole time, I was dreading putting him to bed.  Then I walked out of the room and saw that Daddy had beat me to begin putting him to bed.  Whew.

He called for me to read him a story.  I decided to take my armor off and surrender.  I lay down and we made eye contact.  We both felt the sting of our tired defeat.

I asked him, "What happened today?  How can we make this better?  What did I do wrong?  Be honest.  Tell me the truth, please."

He replied very quietly, "You didn't listen to me."

I asked if he could tell me how.

"You make me drink water when I'm not thirsty.  You made me go when I didn't want to go."

Tears swelled in my eyes.  He was right.  Not only did I not listen to him most of the day, I didn't trust him to meet his needs.  I wasn't showing him respect, and he wasn't showing it to me.  Many moments of how I didn't listen flashed in my mind.  (Well, besides it being a hundred degrees, and wanting him to drink water, that was a talk for another time.)

I asked him if we could hug and kiss and start our day over today, and tomorrow.  He smiled, hugged me tight, kissed me, and all the frustration melted away.  I should've done this earlier, I thought, but anger can get the best of me sometimes.

I told him, "Let's work on using the word listen with each other.  If I'm not listening, please remind me.  If you're not listening, I will remind you.  Let's make it that simple.  Okay?"

"Yes."

We picked up A Light in the Attic, and read poetry until his eyes got heavy.  We said goodnight, and I sang and tickled him to sleep.  By then, I wasn't angry, but felt remorse.  I watched him sleep a while before I slipped downstairs to watch a movie with Daddy.

Today is a new day, and we've begun again.  We've already reminded each other to listen, and I've written the word on my hand.

The least I can do is listen, and really pay attention to him, and my anger when it arises, and let it burn off appropriately.

I am grateful for his honesty.  I am grateful that we can talk.  I am grateful for this beautiful growing boy, that teaches me to pay attention and listen, even if it takes me all day.

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry, sweet boy.

I'm sorry we were late to the splash pad because Bodhi's nap ran late.

Please be grateful that we got to go.

I'm sorry our friends had to go because they had already been there for a while.

Please be grateful that you have friends, it's been hard for you making them, with your excited happy often over-the-top energy that doesn't usually match all those around you.

I'm sorry those kids didn't want to share their toys, even when you offered to trade.

Please be grateful for the ones that did.

I'm sorry that girl told you she didn't want you be your friend after you so sweetly went up to her to share her bucket and say, "Hi, I'm Zachary and I'd like to be your friend."  You even offered her your beloved Grave Digger, which she not so politely declined.  It made me sad too.

Please be grateful that you see everyone as a friend.  It is a blessing, because everyone is worthy of your friendship and unconditional love, even if others can't always see it.

I'm sorry we had to go earlier than you wanted to.

Please understand that it's because I could tell you were tired and not on the same wavelength as the little ones that surrounded you.

I'm sorry I got mad when you acted out.  You got in the girl's way because you didn't have the tools to express your feelings after you used all the words you had, and knocked Bodhi down on his face because you were angry.

Please understand that I could see it was only about to get worse, and I lost my cool and made you get your shoes with tears in your eyes.  Trust me, the tears were about to flow in mine.  I'd rather they think I am an asshole than you.  Because I can take it.  I'd take anything for you.

Tears swell in my eyes knowing what an awesome boy you really are and how hard I try to be the best mama I can to you.  But all we can do is our best and call it a day when it's time.  And I'm always learning when it's time.

Sometimes I feel like a failure, but I don't want you to know that.  I want you to see me as strong.  Sometimes you see me cry, and all I can say is I'm sorry, and I love you, and next time hopefully it won't go this way.

You're often a stinker and you know how to push buttons.  Trust me, I know.  I was you.  I was spoiled but loved more than tongue can tell.  I had a hard time making friends too.    I had a hard time sharing.  I had a hard time matching those around me.  Sometimes I still can't find the right words.

It gets better because you will never stop learning, and we'll keep on truckin' together.  You'll get the swing of it and I will never leave your side.  I'll pick myself up when I fall and teach you how to do the same.

You have a one of a kind, very special personality, full of so much intensity, laughter, and love.  You have a hard time expressing your feelings using just words sometimes.  Your strong willed nature will get you far if I can only help you find the right direction.

I'm sorry you don't understand right now.

All I can do is light our torch and head into the darkness with you, and cry when we need to cry.

I love you with all my heart, but sometimes it's time to go.

It's Always Darkest Before Dawn

It's always darkest before dawn.

I don't remember what quite set it off, but I've a had a disheartening and hard month or more.  I dug a hole, fell into it, and had a hard time climbing out.  I know that when this happens, it's up to me to figure the way out myself.  My meditation practice and my children help me to see what's really important, but sometimes it's hard to act when you feel a bit paralyzed.

It's the culmination of many events that transpired with family after my Grandmother passed last January.  There seemed to be too many unresolved issues that I couldn't let go of.  I believe in moving forward not living for yesterday, but sometimes that's hard to do, especially when others choose not to.

When the big stuff goes unresolved, the little stuff starts to effect me, and can bring some more big stuff with it.  Then the domino effect begins and it rolls down to my children, family, those I love, and everyone around me.  Like a friend says, "When Mama ain't happy, no ones happy."  It's not a selfish statement, it's because every Mama is one of the most important parts of a child's life.  It's our job to be strong, or know when we're weak, and pick ourselves up, and ask for help if we need it.

Someone that I love has had a very hard time moving forward and something very unfortunate happened to him.  I chose to help instead of throw my hands up.  It was a hard decision, because it wasn't just a little help.  That choice made someone even closer to me say some very cruel things because they weren't happy with their life and their choices.  Many things said were untrue and borderline insane so I tried to let it go.  I couldn't.  It's hard to let things go when others are hurting and they try to hurt you.  Bitter resentment will eat you up if you let it.  I have learned to live with and understand many of my resentments, so when I see others stewing in despair, it hurts.

I chose to take a stand and do what was right.  My relationships are my business.  If someone doesn't like them then that is their problem not mine.  I don't have to discuss anything you don't want to hear and you don't have to ask.  Seems simple to me, but we are human.  One thing that I know is that you can't tell anyone what to do, they have to decide for themselves.

Then, last week, my littlest one came down with a virus and we had four sad question-filled days with fever.  It was like a mediation retreat, doing nothing but loving and cuddling my tiny boy, sending him love and trying to send myself some kind and gentle love.  Thank goodness Grandma was off to play with Z, while I nursed Bodhi for days.

Everything hit me.  I was deeply questioning every choice I made.  Was I really being a good mother?  Good wife?  Good daughter?  Good friend?  Kind?  Gentle?  Loving?  Forgiving?  What have I done wrong?  Am I doing anything right?  How come everyone else seems to have their shit together?  Everyone does so many different things.  Some people can take care of their family and find time to do what they love, and sometimes make a living doing it.  Do I need to find my niche in life besides being a mother right now?

That last one hit me harder than I expected.  It had been in the back of my mind for a few months now.

Right before all the questioning, I had began reading some things that helped me in my journey.  Things that were deep in my heart but had to be pulled to the surface, and put right in front of my face.  

There was this.  It helped me take a step back and see things from a distance.  It gave me the perspective of time and space.  It was a little lightbulb above my head.  "Step back."  Look at it from the other's perspective, from the whole room's perspective, from my city, from my state, all the way to the end of the universe.  What was going on was not grand on the whole scale of sadness.  It was, in the words of Lemony Snicket, a series of unfortunate events.  It allowed me to see things in real time.  Was most of the stuff that was bothering me going to matter in five minutes?  An hour?  Next week?  Next year?  Ten years?  No?  What the hell am I grasping this hot cole for?  Feel that tension, don't speak, don't act, move forward gently, as gently as possible.  Send out love, not hate.  Don't be a part of the problem, be a part of the solution.

Then I read this.  There's always more rope at the end.  There's always a new day.  There's always a beginning.  Seemingly infinite times a day we can choose to begin again.  I even started taking Z back to bed and symbolically saying, "Let's start over.  Let's begin again.  I'm sorry."  When we both acted out.  It worked.  Then a whole new day came and it was my clear slate.

This really helped to solidify it.  Wow.  Most of the stuff won't matter in 5 minutes, definitely not in a hundred years.  It's a blink in the universe, and most won't matter, but love will.  I don't have to act on every frustration or problem that comes my way.  Most stuff resolves itself if I wait patiently.  As a bonus, there's always a new day or moment when I screw up, or choose to see the shadows instead of the sunshine.

The sun is always there.  It will always rise.

How I choose to live this moment matters, it can effect generations to come.  So love love love.  Then love some more.  Forgive yourself.  Forgive others.  "Be here now."

I was feeling good.  It was all coming to a head.  I removed myself from feeling responsible for other's pain and took responsibility for my own.  I will always be here to love when they are ready.  I will always be open and forgiving.  And believe me, you don't know the half, a fraction of what I've forgiven.  It's not that it doesn't hurt, but all I can do is be me, and be ready and accepting.

Then I woke up one day and saw this, thanks to her.:

It was as if the sun within me was beginning to shine again.  The clouds were lifting.  

I suddenly didn't feel so lost.  I suddenly felt OK with my place and my relationships.  More OK than I had in a long long time.  I am doing what I am supposed to be doing.  I know when it's time for something new.  I always know when I pay attention.  I can't push the river.  

A new day has dawned.  

No one but me could work through it.  I asked for help when I needed it.  Some came directly, some from afar, and some I just found out of the great big blue.

But it came.  

Just in time.

And now I can breathe a little easier.

Thank you, to those that loved and helped.  Even if it was just existing in my presence -that's pretty important in my book.

**********************************

I read these very powerful words just after writing this:

The warrior is never caught in the trap of doubt. The fundamental doubt is doubting yourself. This doubt can manifest as anxiety, jealousy, or arrogance. In its extreme form, you slander others because you doubt your own confidence. The warrior of perky, symbolized by the snow lion, rests in a state of trust that is based on modesty and mindfulness. Confident within him- or herself, therefore, this warrior has no doubt. He or she is always aware and is never confused about what to accept or reject.

Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, The Sacred Path of the Warrior

(This is book I read and re-read over and over, and highly recommend it.)

Sleep, Sleep, Sleep...

Bedtime is my new spiritual practice.

It is for every parent.

Sleep is important.

It's important for good health and good moods.  Theirs and mine.

It's important as a break.  For them and me.

It's important for growing.

We all know that sleep changes as children grow.

Bedtimes get extended.

Naptimes change and wane.

The time it takes to go to sleep differs.

Rituals evolve.

I wasn't as good at bedtime when Z was a babe.  I'd nurse him to sleep and cuddle him until I went to bed.  He never awoke.  It worked just fine.

Bodhi loves routine, which has been awesome for us all.  Z has grown to love it because I started sticking to it.  Bodhi's been ready for bedtime at 7:00 - 7:30, almost since we brought him home.  He slept hours at a time from the get go.  He'd be asleep within about fifteen minutes.

I love it.  I never thought of myself as a schedule or routine person, but I am at heart.  It's taken me time to find our rhythm.

Enter daylight savings time.

Enter a whole new level of mobility.

Enter new teeth.

(Deep sigh)

Bodhi's cut down to two long naps, sometimes I can tease out number three if we're lucky.

Z rarely naps.  Thank goodness for "chill/rest time".

He has also pushed bedtime forward about an hour.

I've been fighting it.  I thought if I went upstairs and lay with him it would coax him to sleep.

Wrong!  I've been laying with him an hour or more most nights.  Even sometimes when we go up late.

I miss the hour or so we had with Z at night.  Daddy puts Z to sleep when I'm really late (other nights too, of course).  It's even really messed up dinnertime with our false starts, especially right after daylight savings time.  It puts cleaning way late.  I've had hardly any time to do anything I enjoy because I'm just tired and want to chill.

After fourteen hours on full time duty I. want. a. break.

The last few weeks it has really really got to me.  Even pissed me off.  And I feel guilty for my frustration.  He is an nine month old baby that's just changing right before me, as he should be.  

I guess after eight months of a schedule, I want it to remain the same.  Deep down, I know that's nuts of me.  I just wish it was more consistent.

I'm letting go.

Slowly surrendering.

The sweet babe is changing and I can't fight it.

Maybe it's a new way for me and Bodhi to have some time alone.

I've got to let him take the lead here and find what works for us all.

It's always best when I do.

Dealing With Tough Days

Z as a two-year old ball of energy and independence.

"Waking up this morning, I smile.  

Twenty four brand new hours are before me.  

I vow to live fully in each moment 

and to look at all beings with the eyes of compassion." 

Thich Nhat Hahn

I learn so much about Z and myself when we have tough days.

I've seen my ugly side when he blows up.  In him and me.

I've learned how to talk with him and pay attention to his cues so that we don't (usually) end up blowing up.  I am learning how to diffuse instead of deal with the aftermath.

It's like when I'm driving down the highway and a car comes up fast in the lane next to me.  I have a choice.  What kind of person do I want to be?  What is the best way to react?  I can wait until he cuts me off and slams on the breaks, and get furious.  Or I can see what's about to happen, slow down and prevent it.  Maybe just get out of the traffic.  It will pass.

We've had some of the best play days, park days and shopping trips since I've learned what works.

It's easy to see when he is tired, intimidated or over-stimulated.  Maybe his energy doesn't match those around him.  That means it is time to go.

I have no formula.  I just have to pay better attention.  I can't expect to control, all I can do is encourage.

We talk.  We hug.  I listen.

I've learned the right words.  Energetic, enthusiastic, strong willed and independent.  Not feisty, hard to deal with, rude and unpredictable.  I compliment him as much as possible.

Sometimes it takes longer than others and we still have bad moments, but it's working for us.

"Change your perspective, and the most ordinary things take on inexpressible beauty."  

Karen Maezen Miller

I've got a beautiful boy.  I can't expect.  I have to appreciate.

He's been different than other kids since the moment I first felt him.  I can't expect him to be other than how he is.  I have learned how to deal with his differences.

I haven't even had a close repeat of the photo-shoot day, which I blame more on me than him.

He has even quit using choice words.  You know the ones.  The ones no mother wants to hear.

There is less hitting and physical explosion.

He is learning patience, tolerance and empathy having a brother.  It's tough learning to share the world with others and be compassionate.

I'm learning.  He's learning.  We're learning together.  Each moment is new territory.

I remember before I had kids, or when Z was young, and I'd see others' kids going nuts.  I'd think, "Wow. I will never have a kid that acts like that."  I now laugh at my arrogance back then.

I have now walked a few miles on the darkside.  I know many around me don't understand because their kids aren't like Z, but that's OK.  They've never taken a few steps in my shoes.  I'm doing my best and that's all I can do.

It's not easy being three.

It's not easy being a mom.

Overwhelmed

"All at once

The world can overwhelm me

There's almost nothin' you could tell me

That could ease my mind."

Jack Johnson

Ever feel overwhelmed?

Sometimes when I'm having a bad day I sit to write a list of all that's bothering me. This usually happens after I have been stewing in frustration and pity for a while and I'm sick of it.

Sometimes the list is very long.

It usually turns out that most of the things are not happing right now, right in front of me.

They are not real problems.

The ones that are right in front of me have often been exaggerated by emotion and hype.

Sometimes patience is required.

Sometimes it has to do with other people around me that I have no control over.  Then I realize the only thing I can control about that is not to add to the stress or try and just be nice.  It doesn't mean I have to ignore it or discount it but just don't feed the fear.

Sometimes with a little reflection or change of perspective the most annoying things can become quite laughable.

If there is something I can do about any of it right then, I do it.

If there is nothing I can do, then all I can do is recognize that.

Then I take account of all that I am grateful for.

That list is usually way longer.

By the time I'm done I feel a lot better.

Then I throw the lists away or could burn it.

Let it go.

And it feels even better.

I look around at my boys and realize they have no idea about my adult fears and problems.

They are living right now.

Why should I ruin our day over something that isn't even happening, something I have no control over?

All of a sudden, the sun comes from behind the clouds and I open my eyes a little wider.

This moment is precious.

This moment matters.

This is what is happening now.

This deserves my attention.

And I give it.

I Try to Remember

I love and adore my kids but I can get frustrated.  Babies, especially require a lot of attention and most moments and days I am willing to give it all.

Staying at home with them means that I have 24 hours and 7 days a week with the boys.  And to top that off, not that it's bad, but I haven't spent time away from Bodhi since he's been born.

I wouldn't trade being with them for anything but I get very little time to do just what I want worry free.

There are times when I think, "Geez, just give me ten minutes...!"  Ten minutes without being 100% aware of tiny beings, holding a tiny being, being jumped on, followed, worrying about what Z's doing, or being asked to do something.  At least sometimes Z gets absorbed in playing when Bodhi's asleep or (gasp) they both nap.

Sometimes it makes me antsy.  Can you dig?

So there are a few things I try to remind myself of when I don't want to slow down and give the attention that Bodhi needs.

When I get frustrated that Bodhi doesn't want to be set down,
I try to remember there will come a time when he won't want to just sit still with me.


When I get frustrated that Bodhi won't just sit and swing when I'm cooking,
I try to remember that one day all he'll want to do is run off.


When I get frustrated that Bodhi doesn't want to sit in one spot with me,
I try to remember that sometimes I don't either and he's just asking for a little help to see the world.


When I get frustrated that I want to do something and Bodhi begins to fuss for my attention,
I try to remember that one day he won't ask for my help.


When I get frustrated that Bodhi does anything I'm not in the mood for,
I try and consider that it's me that's the problem, not him!


Now, Z?  Well, that's a whole other story, as well as the inspiration for my reminders.

Held Accountable

I’ve come to the conclusion that the biggest problems I have as a parent and with Z are problems with me. When I find myself making excuses to myself I know something is wrong. I’ve got to pay attention to what is being required of me as a parent, especially when it comes to setting boundaries and sticking to it.  

It’s hard to admit when I think I’ve done something wrong as a parent.

To me it’s about teaching him respect and kindness, direction, re-direction and discipline, not about control.  Discipline doesn't have to be a dirty word; it is a good thing.

He depends on me to show him what is and isn’t acceptable.  He depends on me for right and wrong. He depends on me to show him how to respect others so they will also respect him.  He depends on me for consistency and discipline.  He trusts me to guide him.  It’s a big job but I’ve got to step up to the plate and be consistent or it’s him that’ll suffer in the end.

I believe that every moment is a chance to start over and there’s no time like the present to do so. 

I can’t expect Z to just learn self control through my “monkey see, monkey do” method.  I have to be better at enforcing boundaries.  

In the last few days since I posted about the photo shoot (one of the worst moments I've ever experienced), I’ve been really aware about how I respond to his behavior and I’ve surprised myself.  When I stick to my guns and I’m firm, it works.  He does respond well.  I’m worst about it when there’s a lot going on, but that’s when he needs me the most.

He is very strong willed and active so I have to get down to his level.  I've noticed his behavior changing in the last few months especially.  I obviously can’t just say something and expect him to follow it without holding him to it.  For example, “Z, please stop throwing that.”  And two throws later say it again.  I need to stop him and stick with time-out on the second throw or remove him from the situation, instead of say it again.  When I get down to his level and stop he responds. 

He’s not a bad kid, he just needs to be held accountable and re-directed more often. 

Sometimes, I need to be held accountable for not paying attention to the situation.  I can’t set him up for failure either.  

Also, he is now getting old enough to understand when he is doing something that’s not cool.  He is also getting good at telling me, “Mama, I have a feeling!”  Then we can talk about it.  It melts my heart every time.  Sometimes I need to just stop what I am doing.  Sometimes I need to ask him what’s up or what I can do, maybe just a hug or acknowledgment, instead of rely on him to come to me or figure it out.  He is three.

I’ll admit –I’ve never read a book about toddler discipline or behavior.  I rather shy away from parenting method books, but I actually would like to know if anyone recommends a child development book for parents (one that helps me to understand his little brain).  Or any book that you've read and why you recommend it.

I am grateful for my friends I’ve talked to, the ones that made a comment and the ones that messaged me.  Thank you.

(Deep sigh)  Wish me good luck and strength!

You Made Me Cry

I was so excited all week.  In the three years that Z has been on this planet I never asked anyone to do family portraits until a few weeks ago.  Today was the day my friend was coming over to do a little photo-shoot for us.

I didn't expect too much but I anticipated awesomeness and sillyness.  Just for fun, I imagined us being goofy outside, tickling, hugging, kissing each other and being, well, like we usually are.  I pictured in my head Z holding Bodhi and taking the cutest brother shots in front of the Christmas tree.  This was going to be fun and I'd end up with oodles of rad photos.

I bought a little Santa outfit for Bodhi and decided Z's new green plaid shirt would be cute with a pair of little dude jeans.  He decided to wear his little cowboy boots.  Perfect!  Hey, even I got to dress up for once!  I pulled out one of my favorite black skirts with a sheer layer embroidered with gold and sequins and a cute little black top.  I felt good.  I vacuumed the carpet slapped on a thin layer of lipstick with gold shimmer-the only make-up I own.  Then busted out some of my Grandmother's old fabric for a makeshift tree skirt.  Yay!

We were in the middle of playing when the doorbell rang.  We were in good spirits and had been all morning.  Z did have a little runny nose but nothing else.  Kids always have little runny noses.

She began setting up her stuff and Z was a little antsy.  I thought, oh, he'll calm down and get into it.  He loves being silly.  Nothing struck me as particularly odd.

We sit down in front of the tree and he just doesn't want to.  "Hey, you want to hold an ornament?"  No.  "You want to sit like this?"  No.  "Can you do this?!"  No.  "Look at this funny face!!  Can you make one!?"  No.  Hmmm.  He seemed to just want to be in control and do what he wanted.  Not too untypical but usually something gets him to play along eventually.  Try after try yielded nothing but a little frustration.  So she suggested we go sit outside since it was nice and cool.

We head outside and she plops down a cute little chair and shoots away as Z sits down.  Awesome!  This will work.  This will be fun.

Then she suggests he sits with Bodhi.  He doesn't want to.  I sit down and she gets a few shots and then I stood up.  For some reason Z got angry and threw her little chair and yelled something about not wanting to sit with Bodhi.  He broke the chair!!  I was so sad and obviously embarrassed.  I told him that was rude and it made me mad and sad.  If he didn't want to take pictures he could go sit on the porch.  I figured in a few minutes he'd want to come have fun.  I apologized.  As far as I'm concerned, whatever she says, I owe her a little chair!

We head to another spot in the yard and Z heads there with us.  Same problem.  He's not interested and starting to get rude.  She even tried to help pose him.  I got a car to play with thinking he'd like to hold it.  I had no perfect picture in mind, just us!  Car or not.

He runs off.  He screams that he doesn't want to.  No no no no no.  Nothing works.  He's just being rude, not silly at all.  Maybe I should have asked him to go sit on the porch again.

We take pictures of me and Bodhi.  He comes back.  Then leaves again.  Then repeats this a few times.  He doesn't want her little boy, D playing on his tractor.  D walks off like "fine, whatever."  Z refuses to have fun with us.

She decides to take some pictures of Bodhi on an awesome old sheepskin my Aunt gave me while I talked with Z.  I just wanted him to have fun with us.  I was confused.  I didn't want to over-think it, but I couldn't figure it out or what was going on in his little head.  I really didn't want him to be so rude or mad.  And I wanted pictures.  But I wanted them to be fun pictures.  Not coerced and like he had to.

I bribed him with a surprise, hot chocolate and finally opening a present to get him into take a picture in front of the tree.

We get in and he wants to open the present immediately.  Yeah, I bet!  He finally understands that that is the prize for the picture.  Geez, I just did that?  Yes, I did.  We got the pictures but he wasn't as happy as I had hoped about the whole thing.

Just before she left, we planned on getting together another time to hang out again.  All was good between us.

We walked inside and I teared up.  Z just didn't care about how I felt and that made me more sad and I started to get angry.  "I want my hot cocoa!!!  You said I could have hot cocoa!!"  I told him I did say that so please take off his boots and sit down and I'd get it ready.  I told him I was sad he broke her chair and he was rude.  I told him I was mad about the way he acted.  The only reason he was getting hot cocoa was because I said he could but I didn't think he deserved it.  I refuse to be a liar.

He sat down to have a snack and hot cocoa and Bodhi fell asleep.  I laid him down and came back to Z.  I was still pretty pissed off but he said he was cold and wanted me to hold him.  It seemed to be his way of making nice.  So we cuddled and he fell asleep.  He was tired.  He had over-stressed himself out for some reason.

Maybe it was the runny nose.  Maybe it was being three.  Maybe it was asking him to do so many things.  Maybe it was being a new brother.  Maybe it was me.  Who really knows.  I wish I did though.

Today was just different.  It really bothers me when he gets rude.  And by rude I don't mean doesn't cooperate and do what I say.  I mean showing a total lack of respect towards me and being mean.  I mean throwing things out of anger.  I mean saying rude things.

It's not about me controlling him.  It's about finding a happy medium.  Today I couldn't do it and I felt like a total failure.  He made me feel like an asshole because I was so mad at him.  I wanted to yell.  But if I overreact and yell it makes it worse.

I feel lost when it comes to discipline.  Maybe that's a lot of the problem.  I wasn't disciplined a lot as a kid.  I just want to for him to learn more self control.  (Yes, I realize he's three but not all kids seem to get as rude as he can, or am I imagining that?)  The only way he will is through me, really us and the adults in his life too.  I firmly believe in do as I do is the only way to teach.  Not do as I say.

All in all, I figure that not over-reacting is best.  I suppose by being a role model and showing him how to handle stress peacefully and speaking to him kindly and patiently is all I can do for now.  Every now and then time-outs are in order too.  But I wonder every day if I'm doing enough and hope that he can grow out of this pissy little phase.

I'd love to hear from you.
What are your experiences with three year olds?
What do you expect of a three year old?
What do you do differently?

Walking in Circles

Sometimes I walk in circles feeling like I should be doing "something else". I feel guilty sometimes for not doing enough. Or being enough. I wish during these times I could turn off my thinking brain. Then I realize it's a good thing that I can recognize it. Because it allows me to stop and evaluate my walking in circles.

All at once I can be flooded with...

I've got a to-do list

Laundry needs to be done

I want my desk organized

I want the table cleared

There are dishes

Z probably needs a snack

Bodhi is about to wake up

Did I play with Z enough or clean the playroom too much?

What am I making for dinner?

Then I realize I thought all that in a matter of a few minutes.

Man, my brain can be busy.

I have the power to stop that.

I have the power to realize that it doesn't all need to be done right then and slow down. Sometimes it is just all in my head and I don't have to act. I just think I do.

I have the power to take a deep breath, fix Z a snack, sit with him, play and wait for Bodhi to wake up. And fully pay attention to each thing as I do it. If I get a moment to do the rest then I do. You'll always know when it's time.

It's as simple as that.

Mama's Toolbox

Major meltdown for Z this afternoon. He wanted to go with Daddy to get Uncle B because they're going to pick up a motorcycle. Sounds like a fun boys afternoon, right? He went back and forth between "I wanna go!" and "I don't wanna go!". We were lost. He wanted both. He wanted us all to go. We didn't get mad but of course we were frustrated. We knew he was confused and felt lost too so we didn't want to compound his frustration with ours, mixed in with anger. We made time for the meltdown. We sat and gave him a choice to go or not. He got in the car-seat and out several times. Walked back to the truck then the house a few times. Through tears and sadness we did all we could. "You wanna buckle yourself in/get a drink/take a different toy?..." He finally walked in the house. He started crying again then Bodhi woke up and started wailing.

I could feel my patience begin to wane but I had a choice. React with anger in a way that makes it worse for all of us or sit through the perfect tantrum storm. It's hard. I'm not always able to do it with grace, but today I did and it made all the difference. I picked up Bodhi to nurse and held Z crying. I didn't know what else to do. He settled down and I told him I understood his feelings. He told me about being sad and mad and he wanted to go. I told him it was OK and I understood. He wasn't wrong or bad. He's two. He knew I understood and cared and eventually stopped crying. The storm was over and we were back to where we were before it all began. Home and playing.

I never know that what I'm doing is "right" but that all depends on the moment. I have no method. There is no formula. There are no repeats. There is only now. Sometimes it's a quick fix, sometimes it's full meltdown. I wonder if I'm responding right. But no matter what I do I have to sit through it and be in it. Do I end it or do I let it go? How long? End it how? Is this a healthy response? Am I over-reacting? Under-reacting? All I can do is my best. I can't rely on "well it worked last time." Last time is gone. There is only the moment in front of me.

The only things that work for me are in my Mama's toolbox. Yes, I forget them. Yes, I get angry. Yes, I can lose my temper and meltdown myself but I always fall back on them. Even if I have to say I'm sorry and move forward with them. We're all human and as a parent I admit my mistakes too. And yes, especially to a two year old.

The only things I really need in my toolbox are:

Love

Compassion

Patience

Kindness

Understanding

Time

Frustration

It's always my choice to let my frustration or anger stew into an ugly mess of sulking or self pity. Or I can let it go.

Z reminds me of this every day. As a two and a half year old kid it has become his job to test the world, and that includes me and my ego. Some days it's tipping over the toy shelf three times in a row, climbing the pantry in search of the treat he can't have two of or breaking my favorite knick-knack from Disney World. He's not usually being "bad", he's just figuring out the world, cause and effect, has an idea, or he's pushing his limits. Don't we all?

So it's up to me to be aware that every moment is new and we can move from frustration or anger to OK and let the it go. It's OK if I let it loom just enough to make me think about why I'm really frustrated, how I reacted or how I could have prevented the mess. Eventually, for goodness sakes, it's got to be let go. Sooner rather than later is always best. Of course there's the ugly word discipline that sometimes has to rear it's head, that's a given as a parent. Eventually I realize that all in all, within a few minutes, the deed is done, the point is made and it's all OK. Sometimes it takes noticing that he's moved forward and is over it, he understands my point (as much as he can at this age) and I'm the one sitting there stewing. It's good for no one.

So, that's my lesson for myself today -let the frustration or anger go when it's all over, don't let it loom.

Now if I can just practice this more often.

I'm working on it.