April 28, 2011 · 10:57 pm

Choices

Dylan has had a listening problem lately.  (I promise I’ll switch topics soon.)  Just to clarify, it’s not a hearing problem.  It’s a listening problem.  Like when he weaves in and out of parked cars in a busy parking lot and I say, “Dylan FREEZE!,” and he just keeps on weaving.  Or when I ask him to stop slamming the oven door on his play kitchen and he doesn’t and then the door falls off the hinges, but not before he gets his fingers caught first.

My new discipline approach is to give Dylan decisions to make.  To be a big boy instead of a baby.  To use big boy words instead of baby talk.  To choose to walk next to me in a parking lot or lose his favorite dinosaur book.  To choose to stop waving a drumstick in Riley’s face or go to his room.  To choose to behave or help Mommy pack her bags. 

It’s hard to know if anything is sinking in, but he’s had fewer infractions since our initial discussion (i.e. yell-fest) on Monday morning, which happened as a result of the agony he (and Riley) put me through in the waiting room at the pediatrician’s office. On the ride home, I contemplated leaving them both wrapped in blankets in a large basket at the local fire station.  There’s no age limit on that, is there?

I’ve heard Dylan mimic things I’ve said before.  He’ll say something is “unacceptable” or “I’m not listening to this anymore” or ask, “Who’s going to clean this up?”  Talk about kids being mirror images of their parents!  When I hear him say these things, I’m amazed he doesn’t also say “holy shit” or ask, “Is there cold wine in the fridge?”  (Actually, in the bathtub tonight, he filled a cup with bubbly water and said, “Look Mommy, a cup of wine” to which I quickly replied, “That looks like milk to me!”)

This afternoon, I sat at the computer getting my daily entertainment news fix at huffingtonpost.com when Dylan grabbed my arm and said, “Mommy, you have a choice.  You can sit here at the com-pee-ter or you can play with me in the kitchen.”  He may not be listening much yet (he had a time-out while I edited this piece…he just kept waving that drumstick in Riley’s face!) but he definitely understands the exercise.  I had to give him credit for giving me such a smart choice to make so I stepped away from the computer…for a little while.

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April 27, 2011 · 2:06 pm

Pedi Cure

On Easter Sunday, I spent the morning at a spa getting a luxurious pedicure.  It was a present from Mike, but it wasn’t an Easter gift.  It was a “I’ve been traveling a lot for work and I know being with the kids 24-7 is exhausting especially when Riley has stumbled upon the terrible twos and Dylan has invented the I-won’t-listen-to-anything-you-say fours” gift.  It was a nice surprise and a lovely gesture.  And surely it would cure my recent bout of Stay-At-Home Mama blues.  Or wouldn’t it?

The pedicure was great, and so was going to see “Wicked” the weekend before, but at this point I’m not even sure a week on the beach in Aruba would tame the gloom I’ve been feeling…although I’d be willing to give it a try.  I’m in a rut.  The boys are challenging, but that’s a given.  Riley is two and Dylan is, well, Dylan.  The problem is me.  I don’t know what sparked this malaise, but I have no patience, I’m frustrated and I lack the sense of humor that is clearly a prerequisite for dealing with spirited toddlers like the ones I’ve been given.  I fall asleep every night wishing I hadn’t overreacted, snapped or yelled so much during the day, and then wake up each morning hoping for a clean slate.   And then it starts all over.

It’s times like this when I need a slap in the face to remind me that whatever is happening right now is just one chapter in a long book.  I’d like someone to hit me over the head with this book to snap me out of my funk.  I actually did hit my head on the corner of the kitchen table this past weekend.  Maybe it was a sign? 

I’ve been talking to Dylan a lot lately about making good choices, like helping his little brother do a puzzle instead of throwing the pieces at his head, and I need to follow my own advice.  I can either choose to be negative and let negative energy swarm around me or choose to be positive and let positive energy dance all around me.

I don’t want to swarm.  I want to dance!  Being a mother is tough, but so are a lot of other things.  Period.  Almost a year ago, I made the choice to get up off the couch and start this blog, and now I have to choose again to make motherhood work for me.  One pedicure isn’t going to cure me of my current state of mind, but it sure is good medicine.  (That trip to Aruba would be a drug worth trying, too.)  If you see me on the street looking swarmy, feel free to slap me in the face or hit me over the head with a book.  Just don’t mess up my nails.

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