On Sunday Scorch got to go to a birthday party for one of his classmates. The whole class was invited to this costume party so Scorch was beyond excited to go. Every night during the week leading up to it, we had to count down how many more days until the Big Event. We had some major debates as to which accessories that went with his costume were appropriate for the party. Fake grenade? Toy gun? Canteen? Just what does the well dressed fake solider need to be convincing?
The Hubs and I debated all week over which parent got to spend the time at the party versus which got to spend a few quality hours with the Bean. Frankly, I could have used those hours at home to get a lot with only one child underfoot- Scorch’s book case needs to be weeded out, we still have some winter clothes that are MIA, the family room needed to be dusted. We all know the to-do list never ends but I ultimately decided to go to the party.
And I’m so glad I did! My kids go to a small school with one class per grade usually starting in Kindergarten. That means that Scorch will be in class with the same kids for the next 6 years- which also means we need to make friends with these parents. These are the parents we’ll be chaperoning school trips with, organizing class parties next to and making small talk with at a lot of parties over the years. While it would be nice to meet a new BFF among the parents, I’m happy enough if I don’t make a complete fool out of myself in front of them. As far as I can tell, I managed the two hour party with my fly up, no food in my teeth and without falling over and/or using bad language in front of the kids. If that’s not success, I don’t know what is.
The day after I have a hard night with the kids, I feel guilty. Guilty that I yelled. Guilty that I can’t figure out how to manage the Bean better. Guilty that I don’t keep as calm as I want to. Guilty that the last thing my kids heard me say to them before bed was “Go to bed- I don’t want to hear an other peep from you!” Guilty that the Bean is going to read this blog in a few years and just see the negativity and not see the joy she brings to our lives. Just plain old guilty.
Then I called the car dealership about this random blinking light in my van. Turns out that random light means the air bag system in my car isn’t working. The cost to fix it could run as much as $4000. I almost cried. That’s a 4th of the total cost of the whole damn van!
Throw in lost car keys, running out of Hershey’s Syrup (a girl needs her chocolate milk!), a washer full of pieces of straw (don’t ask) and a few other minor insults and I decided today is simply not destined to be a good day.
Then reality slapped me in the face when I found out a friend of mine’s mother passed away. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, but still completely heartbreaking.
My worries? Sure- they are big in my world today, but in the grand scheme of things they are nothing. Money comes and money goes. The Bean will eventually go to sleep again (please God, let that be true). The keys will show up and the grocery store will stock Hershey’s Syrup again. My kids know I love them dearly and I really don’t think occasionally losing my cool is going to result in huge therapy bills for them. And the end of the day, I have a healthy, happy family- the rest is just minor details.
Ah..the night before the return to school after a 4 day weekend. Oh, how I loathe thee. The kids are all amped up and I’m feeling the pressure to make sure they are in bed on time so they get enough sleep. Instead… we have a night like this one.
My kids should have been in bed asleep 45 minutes ago. Instead, Scorch is in his room telling stories to his 59 stuffed animals on his bed and the Bean is in bed sobbing for me. Why? Because she doesn’t want the water I gave her earlier- she wants fresh water. The problem is that it’s already fresh. First the Hubs filled it up for her. Then 5 minutes later, she told me she wanted new water. I had no idea that the Hubs had just given her a fresh cup, so I dumped it out and filled her up again. But now 10 minutes later, she wants even newer water.
My mama didn’t raise no fool- I know she’s stalling and trying to make me dance, so I told her no and kissed her good night. These are the nights I thank the Good Lord that we live in the country because if we didn’t, I think the cops would have been called due to that child’s screams. You’d think we were torturing her with a branding iron.
I knew the night wasn’t going to go well when the Hubs went to throw our steaks on the grill and realized we ran out of propane. That right there is a sign to just pack it in- things are not going to end well. When he finally came home with a new propane tank, I went to start up the grill while he set the table. I can now confirm that yes, burned hair smells terrible and yes, you can absolutely can singe the hair off your arms. It’s a sexy look, let me tell you.
Tomorrow night has to go better, right? If nothing else, the kids will be so exhausted after a full day of school that I can at least put them to bed uber-early.
Now that the kiddos are a little bit older, they have a lot of options for fun things they can do. Too bad the Hubs and I have no idea what to pick for them!
Here is what we have been debating lately:
> Should Scorch play flag football or soccer? Football is a new sport to Scorch, the season is shorter and it’s only offered once a year. Soccer is the sport Scorch is familiar with, all his buddies are playing and the season spans 4 months. Scorch isn’t much help- he doesn’t seem to care one way or the other. The Hubs and I must have a dozen conversations about this before we finally decided to let Scorch try out football. Scorch can play soccer 3 seasons out of the year, so it seemed to make the most sense to let him try football while it’s offered. We’ll see how it goes!
> Scorch also came home with paperwork from school asking if he wanted to play violin. The Hubs and I were (are) truly stumped about this one. Scorch has never shown any interest in music before and when we ask him if he wants to learn, all he seems interested in is the fact that he can bring home an instrument every night. When we tell him he’ll have to practice and use the instrument every night, he doesn’t seem to grasp the concept nor does he seem interested. So..do we shell out $34/month for something he may or may not care about or do we wait until he’s older and can make a more informed decision?
> Beaner, at age 3, is now old enough to sign up for dance. It’s a weekly commitment that lasts from Aug thru Dec (or Feb – May) that ends in a few recitals. It’s not cheap and she doesn’t really show much interest one way or another. But…90% of the people I know with girls her age (or older) started their kids at age 3. Again, right now we’re not signing her up until she’s older and can make a better decision her self- but I still worry that I’m screwing this up.
And this worry? It’s silly and neurotic and I know it. If Scorch is meant to be a musician he will be whether he starts playing at age 5 or at age 7. Same for Bean and dance. But it knowing that it’s silly doesn’t stop me from wondering if we’re making the right choices.
As I type this, Scorch is in his room crying and talking trash about me (calling me a Big Meanie, he thinks he’s being quiet). He’s mad because he lost one of his stuffed animals for a week. Why? Because of his behavior. Ever since our major family blow up a few weeks back, we’ve implemented a new policy. The rules are set- there are only a 3 really big ones and when you break them you 1) go in time out and 2) lose something. So Scorch broke one of the rules earlier (he told his sister he hated her), so he immediately lost the dessert we were sitting down to eat. That went over about as well as you can expect. So he and I had a conversation about learning from our mistakes and making better choices. Yet 5 minutes later, he told his sister the same thing. I asked him to please pick one of this stuffed animals off his bed as it was now mine for the next week.
Oh, the humanity.
The funny this is, the boy has at least 20+ animal on his bed and if I had gone in and taking Froggy away without telling him, he’d never know he was gone. Maybe this time he’ll learn?
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I have no good excuse for not blogging lately- just a lot of minor ones. A fall cold (thanks, Bean!), busy evenings (including a much needed mid-week girl’s night), spending some time with the Hubs (so nice to have him home most nights), and being in bed by 9:30 every night. A few weeks back, I started working out back at the gym. I couldn’t go while Pete was gone this summer, but now that he’s home, I’m trying to go to bootcamp class 3x a week and spinning 2x a week- all of which require me to get up before 5 am. I realize a lot of people have to do that every day, but I don’t and holy crap that is the middle of the night. But I’m trying my hardest, so that means early bedtimes so I don’t fall over mid-day. They damn well better pay off is all I have to say.
Over the past year, the kids have gradually started acquiring more and more bad habits. It’s all normal kids stuff, but it been building for a while. It started with minor stuff- not listening as well. Small back talking. Insults to each other that were thrown around in a rage. Stuff that was really annoying and not fun to deal with, but it wasn’t constant, so we dealt with each instance and moved on.
Then this summer, those occasionally issues became more and more frequent. Calling each other stupid stopped being the exception and started to become a commonly thrown around phrase. Counting down to get the kids to do what I asked them to do was only working 50% of the time. The rough housing soon started to become more mean spirited and aggressive. So while the Hubs was out of town, Mary (our awesome nanny) and I changed our approach to how we handled punishment and that helped a lot. The kids were old enough that time outs weren’t really working anymore, so we shifted to losing privileges (dessert, the Wii, etc) and that helped a lot.
Well- then last week happened. Mary worked her last day with us. The kids started school. The Hubs was working crazy hours due to the flooding in the county south of us. Basically it was the perfect storm of confusion, change and worry for the kiddos and they exploded on Saturday. They were nuts from the minute they woke up until the minute they went to bed. They sassed us, the Bean called me “stupid,” Scorch out and out ignored us, they would slug each other for no reason at all- they were a mess! All day long we tried the combination of time out and removing privileges, but frankly, they didn’t care. We ended up leaving Mass early that night (something we’ve never done) because of their behavior. The Hubs and I were embarrassed, frustrated and really really disappointed in the kids.
After strapping the kids into their car seats, the Hubs and I had a quick huddle in the parking lot of church trying to figure out how to approach this. We completely understood why the kids were losing their shit, but frankly that didn’t excuse it. So we decided it was time for some shock and awe. My mother in law stayed at our house last week and she spoiled my kids rotten with some of the most awesome toys ever- so we took them all away for a week. We packed them up, loaded them in a box and put them in the car. Before we did it, we had Family Meeting to talk to the kids about why we did it and what we expected from them to get them back in a week. We stressed to them how much we loved them and how we know they can make good, kind decisions and while we don’t like taking away their things, we were going to continue to do so every time they broke our family rules.
Needless to say, that went over like a ton of bricks. Oh- the tears. The pleading. The bargaining. But we stood firm, fed our kids dinner and put them to bed an hour early because we knew damn well that exhaustion was playing a part in all this. Before we said good night, we held another quick Family Meeting in Scorch’s bed reiterating how much loved them and how we can’t wait to have better days going forward.
After we said goodnight to the kids, the Hubs and I came out to the living room and I got all teary. Hearing Scorch ask me over and over if I was mad at him because he hates it when I’m mad at him just about killed me. I told him that I wasn’t mad, that I was disappointed and frustrated and we talked about how no matter what, I’ll always love him- but still. Knife meet heart. I won’t even go into the Bean’s frantic little “I’m sorry’s” over and over. I honestly felt like the worst mom ever. Clearly we were screwing up raising these kids right and now we were monsters for making our kids think we hated them. I might as well start a separate savings account for their therapy bills now.
Saturday wasn’t our finest hour as a family and I had been struggling with taking such a hard line with the kids. While I tend to be more of the disciplinarian in our family, I don’t like being mean and I really wondered if we crossed that line from setting boundaries to being punitive just because we were so angry.
I so needed to hear this and am so glad I stumbled across this when I did. It didn’t erase all the crazy guilt (I think that’ll always be there), but it reminded me that taking a strong hand with my kids won’t kill them. That there are a gazillion other ways to show my kids that I love them- including doing my damndest to raise them to be good people. Jury’s still out if we’ll succeed, but it won’t be from lack of trying!
I read a blog post earlier this week that’s been nagging at me. I encourage you to read it for yourself, but a very simplified summary is that the authors son’s (who is a little younger then Scorch) was having some behavioral issues. He wasn’t being bad, he was just acting out and just simply not himself. His mom tried to figure out what in the world was causing his behavior- especially his need to constantly have a cup of milk- but she was stumped until a friend pointed out that these behaviors were all just little cries for his mom’s attention. Every time he was asking for more milk, he was really asking for more of his mom’s time.
That hit home for me.
This summer has been a challenging one with the Hubs gone for most of it. That was a huge transition for us all. But now the Hubs is home and while that’s great, it’s another transition getting use to being a family of 4 again. The kids know that when they start school in 2 short weeks, our wonderful nanny is going to another job and that is another major upheaval in their lives. And all these changes are wearing on my kids and showing in their behavior.
They are quicker to snap at each other. Quicker to taunt one another. Faster to lose their tempers or start to cry. Scorch especially doesn’t hesitate to say something out of the blue that he knows will get him in trouble and it’s been making me batty.
The answer is obvious- my kids need more attention, more stability and a stronger parental presence during this crazy time. But instead of giving them that, I’ve been doing my best to keep the peace with too much electronic entertainment so I can get a minute of quiet and a break from the arguing. And by doing that, all I’m doing is making things worse. So this week I’m trying to make a conscience effort to put my book down more often, to engage my kids in what ever I’m doing and to simply be more present when we have down time. My kids deserve a full cup and it’s up to the Hubs and I give one to them.
Talk to me about how you feel about your kids being physical with each other because we’re dealing with that a lot round these parts lately.
I fall into the camp that as long as no one is hitting/kicking/shoving/whatever out of anger or malice, I’m going to let the kids play. I keep an eye on them and I intervene before I think things are going to get out of hand, but pushing/shoving/accidental hitting is, in my opinion, just part of having a sibling. As long as the potential for serious injury isn’t likely and neither of the kids are objecting, I’m OK with wrestling or jumping next to each other.
The Hubs feels that the kids need to keep their hands to themselves and likes to keep rough housing to a minimum because he worries (rightly so) that things can go from fun playing to an injury in no time flat. I may see that as a hazard of having a sibling, but he sees that as completely avoidable.
I certainly don’t want to see my kids get hurt and unsolicited hitting (*ahem* Beam) and being way too rough because you’re angry (*ahem* Scorch) isn’t tolerated and both kids know that. But roughhousing? Have at it and don’t bother me unless you’re bleeding or your eye is hanging out.
The Hubs and I took the kids to the park after dinner tonight. We had to take two cars so the Hubs drove the kids there and I drove them home. Evidently on the way there, the Hubs told them they could drive a special way home. Too bad no one shared this piece of information with me, so I drove right past that “special” way.
You would have thought I ran over our dog with the way Scorch reacted.
He demanded I turn around immediately to go back the way he wanted to. The problem is that the way he wanted to go wouldn’t take us home, so I told him I’d go another way that’s even more fun because it’s right by his best friend’s house.
He didn’t buy it- cue the waterworks and the demands.
“If you don’t turn around right now, then you have to give me two marshmallows when we get home!”
“If you don’t turn around right now, then we have to go to the store first thing tomorrow to buy me a toy.”
“If you don’t turn around right now, then I’m going to need 3 books tonight to make this up to me.”
And on and on and on. All I could do was laugh and simply tell Scorch that I don’t negotiate with terrorists. He didn’t understand, but he didn’t get anything he demanded for either.
After 7 long weeks, the Hubs is home! At the end of May he was offered a great job- one he’d wanted for five years and one that would allow us to keep living where we do now. It is seriously a huge blessings that it came through. But, there was a catch- he had to be gone from the end of June until yesterday for some hard core training over 900 miles away from home. But 51 days apart were a small price to pay for a job he’d be happy with, so we kissed him goodbye and the kids and I tried to figure out our new normal for the summer.
I won’t lie- there were a few perks to being a single parent. The biggest was the fact that I set the schedule. We didn’t have to worry about the Hubs or his work hours (his schedule is always erratic). If we wanted to go to the lake, we went. If a last minute dinner invitation popped up, we could accept it and go. My grocery bill was lower and the kids were (until the Bean’s climbing capers) in bed on time every night. I had the TV to myself and could (and did) read until the wee hours of the night with no one nagging me about the vampire garbage I watched or to turn the lights out.
It was awesome! For about a week…then it got old, fast.
We all missed the Hubs terribly. I thought it was going to be the Bean who missed him most- I figured Scorch was old enough to roll with it. I was so wrong. Scorch missed his father badly this summer and it showed in a million different ways, most of them not good. The Bean did pretty well and I honestly think the fact that she’s so young helped out because she has no concept of time. And I missed him too- his company, his help, his sense of humor and the fact he didn’t mind taking the garbage to the transfer station (something I loathe).
Y’all- being a single parent is hard, hard work. If you notice a thread of desperation in some of my posts these past few weeks it’s because I was doing it all by myself. My parents, nanny and friends were amazing help- but 90% of the time it was just me at the kids when I wasn’t working. I was all they had so I had to be Mom, Dad, cook, grocer, goalie, referee, chauffeur, teacher, playmate and everything else in between 24/7. There was no such thing as me time and a lot of things, like my workouts, really slacked off. I never realized just how much the Hubs did until he wasn’t here to do them any more. My hat is off to all single parents- you truly have the hardest job in the world.
The Hubs came home with 2 broken ribs and a concussion and I managed a small flood and the Bean’s bedtime antics while he was gone- but we survived! Let’s just hope we never have to do it again.
Wickedly Crazy Awesome Life 