Meltdowns and Tantrums

I bet you thought I was going to talk about Ingrid's tantrums, didn't you?  But no, I'm the one having a meltdown.  At the end of the week I am just so tired.  Of everything.  Of everyone.  I'm tired of doing another load of laundry, I'm tired of unloading the goddamn dishwasher again.  I'm tired of hearing Ingrid ask me to get her water bottle that is two feet away from her.  I'm tired of Otis teething.  I'm just tired.

So tonight I threw Otis' bottle across the room.  It was in my hand, I felt mad, I threw it.  And you know what?  It felt kinda good.  I totally get why Ingrid has these tantrums and hits things and screams.  It feels good.  Sometimes you don't wanna use your words. 

I was going to write this post about how sick I am of being the only one that can ever do anything around here, but then Ingrid called out from her room "Mama?  I'm sorry I yelled at you.  I love you."  And I realized that yes, it's a hard fucking job, but it's worth it.  I get to see Otis' drooly smiles first thing in the morning, I get to give Ingrid kisses and hugs when she's groggy from her nap.  I get to do these things now because that's what phase we are in, and some day it will all change and I won't get to do them.  So I should quit complaining (and throwing things) and embrace the fact my children need and want me. 

Making Decisions

Is every almost-three year old so indecisive?  Ingrid is horrible at making a decision.  She finds it too overwhelming to pick something if given a choice.  But...at the same time finds it heartbreaking to have decisions made for her.

Every morning we go through the same struggle--what do you want to drink?  Apple juice or milk?  You would think it was Sophie's Choice up in here!  It takes that girl so long to choose!  Apple juice, no milk, no apple juice.  I take out the apple juice, "NO!  I want milk!"  I poor the milk, "NO! I said I wanted apple juice!"

Just now I asked her what she wanted to eat.  "Nothing."  Five seconds later when I'm sitting here at the computer drinking my coffee (which I had no problem choosing, thank you very much) she starts going on and on about how she's "really really hungry" as if we are starving her. 

OH MY GOD, she just tests my patience so much these days!!!

From my nannying days I remember to avoid a struggle you were supposed to offer a choice of two things.  That way they feel like they have a say in what goes on, but aren't overwhelmed by too many options.  But Ingrid takes those two options and goes back and forth and cannot decide.  She ends up freaking out because I end up saying I'm counting to three and then you have to choose or I will.  The scenarios here are:  I choose for her, she freaks out.  I let her choose, she can't make a decision and we end up in front of the refrigerator cooling off the whole kitchen.  I count to three and make her decide and she freaks out.  What gives, it's just juice!!

Any tips?  Anything you find that works?  Do they grow out of this (PLEASE SAY YES.)

I Do It Myself, Mama!

I love that Ingrid is little miss independent but man, it's testing my patience.  Especially at 5am, when she needs to go to the bathroom and is still sleep drunk and can't function, but refuses to admit it and allow me to help her...

That was this morning when she got me up to go to the bathroom.  I unzipped her footy pjs, pulled down her pull up and she climbed up on the seat.  Suddenly she realized that she wanted to unzip her pjs so she had a spectacular fit, jumping off the toilet, screaming she wanted to "do it myself, mama!!"  Ugh, seriously?  At 5am?  I tried explaining to her that she was already out of her pjs and I was not, in fact, going to let her put them back on only to take them off herself.  Not at 5am!!  She ended up screaming and crying until I put her pjs back on and ushered her back to bed, where she fell asleep for another couple hours.  Sigh.

Yesterday was a lot of  that--whatever I was doing she wanted to help.  I love that, I do, because I remember "helping" my mom do things around the house.  So when there's laundry to be folded, sure, help.  When I'm cutting things for my etsy shop and there are scraps, sure, go ahead and throw them away.  But if I'm making chili over a hot stove, no, you can't help. 

When I was cutting up peppers for said chili, I gave her a chunk of one and a butter knife and told her to go to town.  She then got frustrated she couldn't do it herself.  It's so hard because sometimes I do try to let her help with whatever she can, but then there are things she just isn't capable of and it makes her mad, but she won't NOT ask to help.  Does that make sense??  If I say  no, you can't do it, she gets mad.  If I say, sure, go ahead and try but then she can't do it, she gets mad.  I guess it's her problem not mine, right?  At least she's understanding her limits? 

Anyway, she's a great helper, she really does get a kick out of doing whatever it is I'm doing, and just lately she's started asking to sew with me.  I have so many ideas of little gifts for the holidays, like a kid sized broom, and those cardboard lacing cards.  But in the meantime, sometimes I just want to get stuff done.  In five minutes as opposed to an hour.  Patience, Amber, patience...