Giving

Yesterday was the best day.  No whining from Ingrid, no screaming from either of us.  And you know why?  Because I played with her, read her books, we went for a walk and played at the park.  I gave her what she needed.  I have been forgetting her needs lately, and I feel really bad.

I was just thinking of how everyone always told me she was such a good baby, and now people always comment on how sweet and laid back Otis is.  My reply to that is that I give him what he needs.  I hold him if he wants to be held, I feed him when he's hungry.  Just meeting his needs makes him happy the rest of the time.  And then I realized I don't do that with Ingrid. 

I tell her it's not time to eat yet, I say just wait a minute when she asks me to read her a book, I have a million things on my mind instead of focusing on her.  And when I don't focus on her, she starts acting up.  Whining, crying, wetting her pants.  And then I get mad, and I yell at her, and then I feel bad and hug her.  And really, wouldn't it be easier just to pay attention to her in the first place? 

So yesterday I did laundry only when I could make it downstairs, I cleaned up only when she was occupied with something, I read her the stupid Clifford books she loves so much, and she was in the best mood.  Sometimes it's so easy to forget the simple things that make our lives easier.  I feel silly for even having to remember this:  Pay attention to your kid.  Duh.  But life has gotten in the way lately and I need to regroup and remember to live with my kids, not just have them at my side while I go about my way. 

This weekend we will be at the cottage with my family.  I am so excited because it will be fun for all!  Tons of play time!  And hopefully less whining and screaming. 

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. 

We Have Good Days, Too.

I just wanted to be sure to document that it's not all hormones and stress around here.  Yesterday Ingrid and I had a lovely day.  We got up, put on a jazz station on the radio, made some wipes for our blog friends in Switzerland, and just relaxed.  We spent time together, Ingrid helping me with the scraps and dancing around the table.  After a rest, we went to the post office to send things out, then to the grocery store to get our Thanksgiving goodies.  And then we played with blocks, colored in her new Christmas coloring books, and somewhere in there she played by herself nicely.  Oh, and did I mention she slept until 8am?? 

Last night everyone in the house was up for some reason.  Ingrid got up three times saying she had to go to the bathroom, then when she was on the toilet she'd start crying that she didn't have to go and was cold, as if it was my fault she was in this situation.  As if I'd gotten her out of her warm, cozy bed to sit naked on the toilet at 1:30, 3, and 5am...I also had pregnancy insomnia, again, and was up twiddling my thumbs for a couple hours.  And at 6:10am Ingrid ran into the bedroom with some clothes "Mama!  I picked out my clothes for today!  Let's go play!"  Ugh. 

So, today started out being really crappy, with me yelling and getting really annoyed by every little thing that happened, but I've really been trying to turn those days around.  So we went to a friend's house, the girls dressed up like fairies, we ate warm zucchini bread, and Ingrid slept on the way home.  She let me rest for a whole hour, and then we played and made English muffin pizzas, and I let her make as big of a mess as she wanted to.  We got along, had a good day, and ended it with huge hugs and lots of I love yous.  Like it should be.

I just feel like it takes so much effort to be the happy parent that is patient and kind, and lately I just don't have time for it.  I am so freakin' tired all the time and I just want to have temper tantrums, too!!  But yesterday and today showed me that it's worth that little bit of effort to not fight with my two year old...It makes everyone so much happier!

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...