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."

Is There a Santa?

Over on Mama Notes there's a post asking do your kids believe in Santa?  This is something I think Brendan and I will have to talk about next year, but so far this year, there's no Santa.  I always found that tradition a little weird, a fat guy breaking into your house and watching you while you sleep...I know I probably look too far into it and I should just lighten up and bring some magic into my kid's life, but I don't want to lie to her!  No, Santa isn't going to fly around the world and he isn't going to come into our house and he didn't buy you those presents.  I made half of them, with you watching, so no, not Santa. 

My mom thinks it's sad I never believed in Santa, but I don't feel like I missed out on anything.  I vaguely remember driving home from somewhere on Christmas Eve and my mom pointing to a plane in the sky and saying "Look, that's Rudolph!" and being excited, but who knows how old I was, and with three older siblings, I couldn't have been shielded from the truth for too long.  What I DO remember was my oldest naughty brother (really, he was horrible as a child!) unlocking my parent's bedroom door to with a toothpick or similar, looking everywhere in their closet for Christmas presents.  And the stash of used boxes we kept for wrapping gifts, stuffed up in a crawl space sort of place in our laundry room.  And the story of my mom smuggling a Cabbage Patch Kid out of the store in 1985, which was my present that Christmas.  Santa never really played into it.

So for Ingrid, I know I won't tell her about Santa, I won't make her sit on Santa's knee and have creepy pictures taken, I won't leave out cookies and milk and carrots for the reindeer.  Call me a Scrooge if you must, but I don't see the point.  Christmas to me is a fresh pine tree, lots of twinkle lights, sugar cookies, cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning, egg nog, and the family coming together to hang out with each other, play games, and eat lots of food, and then bundle up and take a walk out in the snow.  To me, that's way better than Santa.

Miss Sassy Pants

Ingrid has started a new phase where she likes to say nonononono and shake her head and look at me while she does something I've just told her not to do. I know it's a common phase for a toddler and that every mom goes through it so I have to ask the experienced moms--how do you keep your sanity???

Up until now it has been easy to care for her. I let her explore and do what she wants within reason, I don't pull her away from everything, I try to let her figure things out for herself. And when it was time to go or we had to move on to the next thing, she came willingly. Now it is a fight to get her to listen. When we come in from outside she throws herself out of my arms to climb the stairs. You would think that after weeks of me herding her inside before she makes a break for the set of stairs going up another flight that she would understand she's not allowed to go up there. But no, every single stinkin' time we come in she bolts for the second set of stairs and screams bloody murder when I pick her up and set her in front of our door. Then she refuses to come inside, so she sits and screams in the hallway, filling the entire apartment building with the sweet sweet sounds of a 15 month old. You're welcome, neighbors!

Yesterday was very trying for me and I admit, I yelled. I don't want to yell, I don't want to be mean mama, I don't want to be telling her no to everything. I hate when I hear moms saying no-no to every little thing their kid wants to do. Kids need to explore, to touch things (within reason) and I know they are just naturally curious. But can you please not be curious about our new Wii system which you already managed to almost break? There's nowhere else for me to put it, I cannot keep it out of your reach so you are going to have to learn how to stay away from something so inviting.

I think that's my main thing--I have set up our house so she is free to go where she wants. I never had to tell her no before, really. But now she's so mobile and growing ever so much taller that she can get into new things, things I can't move out of her way. Things she has to learn she can't touch. So how do I go about doing that without yelling no at her all the time? Especially when she's sassy and yells back at me "nonononononono!" I don't want to teach her to yell, I don't want to speak to her with a mean voice. I want to be loving and gentle and yet I find myself getting so irritated that I yell "Jesus Christ, kid, you are driving me nuts today!! Go find a book to read!" (Yes, I am available for the Mom of the Year award, thanks for asking.)

Help me, fellow mamas. How do you tame the sassy one year old? Or how do you tame the sassy part of yourself?