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. 

Hold On a Second...

That phrase comes out of my mouth about seventeen thousand times a day.  Seriously, hold on Ingrid, I'm feeding your brother.  Hold on, Otis, I'm just putting this laundry away.  Hold on, whoever is calling me, I'm making dinner.  Hold on, hold on, hold on.  I have been feeling so pulled in a million directions lately, it's driving me nuts!!

I used to pride myself on being able to multitask.  I think that was at a time when, if I got the things on my list done, I got to go home.  Now, though, the list just keeps on going.  If I finish ten things, there are just going to be ten more things to do after that.  So I'm not as motivated to do things, maybe.  Whatever the case, I have been seriously behind on lots of things, trying to focus is hard, and I'm always telling Ingrid to hold on. 

I'm just starting to realize how different her life is from just a few months ago.  I know every kid goes through this and every mom goes through feeling guilty, but it just hit me how hard this must be for her to have a new sibling, move, have a crabby mom all the time.  She keeps saying things like "I need you to take care of me, I want you to play with me, I need you."  And I always say "Hold on, I have to do..." insert mundane task here.  It's never important either!  I am just always pushing her away, telling her to wait. 

The past few days I have tried really hard not to make her wait.  I drop what I'm doing and just hold her.  Yesterday we cuddled on the couch while Otis napped and I made up dumb stories about sparkly unicorns.  She looked up at me and said "I love you so much, mom."  Oh dear.  I have to make more time for her.  I have to!  The floor will still be dirty in twenty minutes, the laundry will still be there to fold after we play or cuddle or just read books.  Perspective, Amber!  Remember all those nights where I didn't want to rock her to sleep because I was tired?  And I said she's only going to be this age once?  Well the same thing applies here and I have forgotten that.  She will only be almost-three once, and I have to enjoy these cuddly moments so I can look back upon them fondly when she's rolling her eyes at me every ten seconds in ten years. 

So you guys will have to hold on while I go play with my daughter.  Hold on, I'll be right there. 

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 Miss My Baby

I've been in the hospital now for six days.  Ingrid came to visit the first day but then my mom took her over to the other side of the state.  I can't remember if we've ever been apart for more than a few days.  It sucks.  Brendan is picking her up tomorrow but she can't even come visit because she's been sick with a stomach virus that's going around and I can't have her get me sick.  So another day will go by. 

I talked to her every day and it was good and bad.  Good because she barely had time for me, she was so busy and having so much fun with Gramma.  It snowed over there so she got to make snow angels and go "skiing" (sledding!) and play with dollhouses and toys we don't have at home.  It was bad because--she barely had time for me!!  Hi mama, I'm playing, bye mama, blow kiss!  I know 2 1/2 yr olds aren't the best phone talkers but come on, your ol' mom needs more than that! 

No, really I'd rather she is having so much fun with Gramma.  I couldn't bear to hear she had been crying the whole time.  But I do feel a bit useless.  Boohoo, poor me.  It's just late and I barely sleep here in the hospital and I miss my girl.  And as much as I want to see her tomorrow, I really don't want a stomach virus anywhere near me...I have enough to worry about without adding that!!  One day at a time, soon I'll be home again and be lamenting on how hard it is to take care of two, or how she's driving me nuts with her constant energy when I just want a nap. 

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!

Sewing and Hormones and Toddlers, Oh My!

Yesterday was a hormonal one...When Brendan went to leave for work I just started crying.  For some reason it felt like too much work to be at home with Ingrid all day long (and night, too, he had to work until past her bedtime) so I just broke down.  And being the male he is, Brendan didn't say much and just left for work with a lame "Hope you have a good day."  Ingrid and I just seem to be butting heads lately, as I am really tired and not sleeping well at night, and not getting any rest during the day thanks to her bugging me the second I lay down.  And she just wants to play and wonders why the hell Mama can't get up off the couch for two seconds... 

Luckily I was able to turn it around.  I took a cat nap on the couch while Ingrid watched Sesame Street and then we got up and went to the indoor play place.  We stayed for three hours, and would've stayed longer if they only sold lunch.  I get the whole food allergy thing, but seriously, if you can't bring outside food, then you have to serve lunch!  Hungry toddlers are everywhere, not to mention their preggo mamas.

Anyway, Ingrid got to run around and I got to sit and drink coffee.  There was a German speaker's playgroup going on so there were about ten women speaking German all around us.  I swear I am a magnet for the Germans!  Every time I go to a park I hear someone speaking German.  Ingrid was listening to them and knew it wasn't English so when I would ask her a question she'd respond in nonsense, I guess thinking she was speaking German!  It was pretty funny.  I told her the words I knew, but it's been awhile...

When we got home I had an email that the Blue House was looking for new items, so I set out to make my lists and get stuff ready to drop off there.  Ingrid once again got out the felt box and played while I cut more garlands out, and after she went to bed I cut out more things to sew.  Today is going to be a PJ day, as Brendan will take the car for another job interview and we'll be home sewing.  Hooray!

He told me hopefully by next week we'll know where we're going.  I sure hope so, I'm getting awfully nesty, wanting to wash baby clothes and set up an area for the little guy.  Right now everything is in boxes under the basement stairs.  I'd like to see tiny things hanging up, and baskets of tiny cloth diapers!  Patience...

My Little Runaway

Twice in the past couple days Ingrid has given me a heart attack by disappearing.  Yesterday we were enjoying a lovely fall afternoon outside.  I had gotten the newest issue of The Mother and Ingrid was making stone soup for me to sniff and sip.  She'd go into the trees and grab some leaves and twigs, then come back to me and ask me what it needed.  We had been doing this for awhile when I made the stupid mistake of asking if it needed a pinecone in it.  She agreed it did, but then I said, oh no wait, we don't have any pine trees in our yard, so no pinecones. 

Ingrid wasn't going to let that stop her, however, so she decided to take off on her own, without telling me, to go find a pinecone.  I thought she'd just gone to the front yard, but when I went there she was nowhere to be found.  Sometimes she goes around the house, so I walked around, calling her name.  I heard her, but she wasn't anywhere near our house!  I went back to the front calling her name, and then I saw her.  A block away, across the parking lot of the church next door to us.  The church, which is on a busy street, has pine trees in front.  Holy shit, kid, get back here!!! 

I tried to explain to her how it was dangerous to go near the busy street, and that she's only supposed to leave the yard with mama or daddy.  But she's 2 1/2, does she get that???

Then today we were getting ready to leave the library.  We were still in the kid's area, and I stopped to look at a magazine.  In that span of two seconds I lost her.  She just took off, I had no idea to where.  Again, I look around, trying to stay calm, figuring she's nearby somewhere.  She wasn't anywhere in the kid's section so I went out to the adult section and there she is, by the door, pushing the button that operates the handicapped doors.  I said Ingrid!  Where were you going?  "Outside."  Like, duh mom.  You said we were leaving, I was leaving! 

Seriously, heart attacks.  I try not to freak out about things like this, because I tend to have faith that nothing bad will happen.  But then I think holy shit, how fast something terrible could happen!  Not even kidnapping so much but getting outside near busy streets and getting plowed over by any one of the terrible drivers around here...

I made the mistake of telling Brendan about yesterday and he freaked out on me.  He's a lot more cautious than I am, which I hate.  He's always yelling at her to stay out of the road even though she's nowhere near it.  It drives me nuts because I like to trust that she does know some things about safety.  But then something like her disappearing happens and I wonder if I give her too much freedom?  Like she just trusts that everything will be okay and she knows what she's doing so she doesn't get why mama is screaming for her when she's just looking for a pinecone.  Ahhh, kids.

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...

Sitting for Story Time

A few weeks ago a friend and I took our 2yr olds to a bookstore for story time.  All the other kids sat nicely while our children ran amok and didn't listen to a thing the lady said.  I thought maybe we should talk about that, so we've been really focusing on listening lately.  This morning I said we could go to the library story time if she could listen to the story and sit still.  Ingrid, of course, being on a "big girl" kick, said she could.  She could not.

We got there and she started running past all the other kids sitting there nicely to try to find the toys they usually have out.  I grabbed her and said no, listen there's a guy playing a song, let's sing along!  She gave me her mad look and ran away.  I wrangled her to the back and told her once again she had to sit and listen or we would go home, she screamed in my face that she wanted to stay.  *deep breath* okay. 

She refused to sit down and anything I would say just got a scream instead.  Moms are looking, kids are looking, it was embarrassing.  When we used to go to story time it was for kids under 2, so there wasn't a huge expectation of sitting still.  Half the kids were running around and would only stop to sing a song they recognized.  I never felt bad about it.  But lately it seems like every other kid her age can sit still for a story and a song.  All these little 2yr olds sitting like little ladies and gentlemen, and here's my monster running around like she never gets play time! 

Part of me could care less, I love having my spitfire kid and why should I care if she has the attention span for story time?  She can sit for hours at home reading books, and she knows the words to multiple songs.  It's not like she really needs anything from story time.  So why do I care?  Is it just because of the looks from other moms?  And why are those bitches giving me looks anyway??  I'm sure their kids all have their moments...

Or do kids need to learn to sit still and listen?  Is it one of those socialization things they should learn how to do?  It's rude to not listen and to disrupt story time for others, but is she capable of understanding that?  Am I just expecting too much from a 2yr old?  Until I figure it out I'm just going to avoid story time for awhile.  There's nothing to be gained from it and it just frustrates me and doesn't seem to be very fun for Ingrid.   

Not So Good Mom Day...

Actually it's been weeks since I've felt like a good mom but today was horrible.  And it's only 3pm.  I haven't been taking my meds lately with all the puking going on, so I'm on edge.  I know you're not supposed to just stop altogether taking them, you're supposed to ease off them, and I didn't.  So I have been really bitchy and yelly and just having no patience.  On top of being sick and exhausted and getting fatter every day.  No good.

Today was the wakeup call--again--that I need to refocus on my parenting skills.  I remember these blissful times of baking with Ingrid, letting her make a mess, walking at a snail's pace letting her take in every part of nature she wanted.  I remember crafting with her, reading to her, playing with her, and her being happy.  I haven't felt that way in a long time. 

Lately it has been yelling at her to move her ass up the stairs before she pees her pants again, or to get back in bed for the fifth time and just go to sleep already, or to put down that cherry she's smearing all over the couch.  Our walks are hurried because it's hot and I'm wanting to go lay on the couch again.  I grab her arm and probably hurt her and why?  Because I'm focused on my needs and what I want to do at that moment.  I want to get around the block in less than a half hour, so I grab her, tell her to walk, make her cry, and feel like shit.

Today she would not take a nap because she said she had to poop.  But that is a worn out stall tactic most days, so I told her to go back to bed.  She got her toys, I took them away, she got her books, I took them away.  It was an hour of me yelling at her to get back in bed and close her eyes and go to sleep.  She just WOULD NOT do it!!!  I almost lost it, I just wanted to scream (who am I kidding, I did scream...)  So one more time in her room yelling, she cried and then started saying "I sorry mama, I sorry!"  I broke down in tears and hugged her and let her get out of the bed.  She clearly was not going to nap, why fight it?  And wouldn't you know, five minutes later she's running to the bathroom needing to poo--she hadn't been stalling at all. 

But how am I supposed to know that????  It's the boy who cried wolf, completely!  She says it every day at naptime, every night at bedtime, and it's only true about 5% of the time! 

Anyway, I feel like shit for all the yelling, I feel like I stopped being an attached parent somewhere along the way.  Now that she's not so dependent on me I just let her go about her way, forgetting she still needs me to listen to her and that our relationship can only be happy if we are both involved in it.  Why can't I remember this?  Why do I let things get out of hand and then have to come to this realization every few months? 

You're Driving Me Crazy!!

Ingrid has been very whiny and demanding lately. She is very into "I do it!" and "No, go this way!" Which I love because she's such an independant little spitfire. However, it also drives me nuts sometimes.

This morning after hearing her throw yet another tantrum because I wouldn't let her grab my sharp sewing scissors or play with the rotary cutter (what a horrible mom I am, I know) I said, "Aah! You are driving me crazy!" Brendan said "You say that all the time. Maybe this isn't working? You staying at home with Ingrid?"

I was completely dumbfounded. How on earth could he think it wasn't working, me staying at home? Does he not know that I love my job as a stay at home mom?? Does my husband really not know me at all? Yes, I say Ingrid drives me crazy a lot, because--she drives me crazy, A LOT! But that doesn't mean I don't like to be around her. I do, I just can't stand this whiny, tantrum phase she's going through. (It's just a phase, right?!)

Anyway, it got me thinking about how I voice my opinion on everything. I wonder what it's like to be my husband, having to deal with me and my gab. I complain a lot, even when something doesn't really bother me all that much. I just say stuff, without really thinking about it. So, in that second that Ingrid was crying, I said she drove me crazy. And in the moment that she cuddles up on me I say I love you SO SO MUCH! They balance each other out, don't they? I think I say more positive things than negative, but now I have to stop and think about it.

I'm always trying to be calmer and more positive, I guess this is one of those things I have to work on. Less "you drive me crazy" and more "I love you so much."

Oh, for the love of god...

I am officially starting this morning over.  Ingrid was up until 10pm last night, crying on and off.  I was trying to be calm about it, and mostly succeeded.  But at 10 when I was just about to doze off in bed, she started crying and I lost it.  EVERY SINGLE NIGHT??  Jeez...

So, after no sleep again, I was awoken to a whiny girl trying to open my door.  When she came in, she smelled suspiciously like poo, which Daddy mentioned but never changed...When I needed to go to the bathroom she whined.  When I needed to get my coffee she whined.  Oh, for the love of god, child, leave me alone for two seconds!  Let me wake up!! 

I got my coffee and then Brendan started rushing around the house looking for something he couldn't find.  I swear to god, every single morning he looks for something he needs and makes a mess searching for it.  I get up to help him and find it about two seconds later.  Why can't he ever find stuff???  And while I was helping find his phone, Ingrid decided to be curious about my cup of coffee that was on the table.  I came into the living room to see her looking all concerned and hearing a drip drip drip.  She had a diaper on, though, so she wasn't peeing.  What WAS that?

MY COFFEE!!  Spilling all over the table, the chair, the carpet.  Not a big deal usually, but WE ARE OUT OF COFFEE, there is no making more this morning until we get to the store!!  No sleep and no coffee?  You've got to be kidding me.  I lost it a little and yelled and Ingrid cried and then I felt bad.  She's curious, what is this magical elixir called coffee that mama and daddy are so fond of?  Can't blame her, she's a kid. 

So, after yelling and thankfully finding there was one more cup of coffee in the pot, I decided to start the morning over.  No more yelling, no more crabiness.  I'm going to drink this coffee and be nice mommy while we clean and pack for our trip to Grandma and Grandpa's house in Milwaukee.  Nice mommy, nice  mommy, nice mommy.  Deep breaths. 

Deep Breaths...

Ingrid is very independent. This is a trait I usually love in her.  I love that she can sit and read books by herself.  I love that she can play with her stuffed animals by herself.  I love that I can usually take a shower and she'll keep herself entertained.

However, lately she has taken that independence and decided she doesn't have to listen to me.  So...running away from me when I have a bag of garbage in one hand and the dog's leash in the other, or running away when it's time to get shoes on, or running away when it's time to take a bath.  Or, touching things after I say please don't.  Getting into the garbage and eating coffee grounds (you'd think that would be a one time deal, but alas, it happens every day.)  Coloring on the walls or tables or chairs or books after I tell her please use the paper. 

I know kids this age are testing their boundaries, and I never had a problem with this when I was a nanny.  I knew these were the boundaries and the kids would not stray outside the lines.  But with Ingrid I'm finding that the lines are blurry.  Some days I just don't feel like fighting with her, so I chase her to put her in the tub or I chase her to get her shoes on or I tell her twice not to color on the walls instead of just once.  Or I actually let her color on the walls because it washes off and I just don't feel like chasing her.  That kid is fast!

Today we were going to take the dog for a walk and I had the garbage, so she needed to walk alongside me until we got to the dumpster.  Usually she's pretty good at this but today she just was pushing all my buttons.  She ran the opposite direction as soon as I told her we needed to go this way, when I chased after her and grabbed her and told her to go this way, she stopped altogether and wouldn't walk at all.  It's like we just both have these personalities where we are going to get our own way.  We are just fighting each other to see who will win.  Battle of the wills and we both have VERY strong wills.

I don't mind letting her do what she will most of the time.  But how do I get her to understand that sometimes she HAS to listen to mama??  Sometimes I need her cooperation, I need her to listen to me.  But how do you make a 1 1/2 year old understand that??  So, deep breaths.  Deep breaths.  I love her independent spirit, I love her independent spirit.  If we don't have to have a battle of the wills, don't.  

Why is parenting so much harder than nannying????