As a mother of a 3-year-old (I am fully aware that she isn't 3 yet. It's just way easier to say that than almost-3-year-old), I know that I'm in for it.
And by "it" I mean that my patience will be tried. My will will be tested. My persistence will be pushed to the limit. And my sanity? Well, that's long gone anyway.
A very common phrase in my parenting vocabulary is, and I quote, "Fine. I don't care. Do whatever you want." This is usually the context:
Jayna: Mommy, can I go outside?
Me: Sure, put on your flops.
Jayna: I don't want to wear shoes. It's summer anyway. It's warm.
Me: I don't want you to hurt your feet when you try to stop the swing.
Jayna: I won't. I don't want to wear shoes.
Me: Put your shoes on!! I'm the adult. You aren't. Put your shoes on.
Jayna: But mommy, I don't like shoes all the time.
Me: Fine. I don't care. Do whatever you want.
I'm slowly learning that I should choose my battles more wisely.
I spent approximately 8 years of my childhood, give or take, shoeless. So, really...who cares? Me. I do. In the spirit of trying to be a responsible parent. But in the process of the spirit of being a responsible parent (diagram THAT, Ms. Rhinesmith), I am in essence calling my parents irresponsible. And, regardless if they were or not, I turned out okay. And the fact that Jayna never wants to wear shoes probably won't prevent her from going to Harvard. Or from joining the circus. Probably one more than the other, but I'll support her either way.
This entire blog entry started out with a digression. It's how I roll.
My long-winded point of the above example is that I know I'm in for it.
I just didn't know just HOW "in" for "it" I was.
Of course, there was no way of knowing that. I guess I could've listened to my parents when they tried to warn me. And I *almost* didn't smile when I typed that.
What it comes down to is that 3 years old comes with a whole new set of issues. We're past the weaning of the boob/bottle. We're past the sleeping in a crib. We're past the potty training. And we're on to more advanced con-artist techniques. More sneaky "anti-truths." More fluttering of those gorgeous little eyelashes More elephant tears. More hugging of the leg and "I love you, mommy."
She's becoming me.
I mean me when I was little. She isn't nearly as advanced as I am now. And hopefully I can thwart that somehow until she moves out and is on her own. In my dreams, I'm thinking.
She is sassy. She uses my own words against me. She repeats all of my favorite phrases and uses them in the correct context. She thinks she's a mom. Of me. And that shit doesn't fly.
Jayna: I don't want to brush my teeth!!
Me: Too bad!! We brush our teeth EVERY morning. Let's go. We don't want to be late.
Jayna: I don't want to!!
Me: I don't care! Let's go.
Jayna: No, mommy...I DON'T CARE!!! Don't say 'I don't care' to me. If you say that to me again, you get a time out.
Me: Well, you just earned yourself a time out for sassing. Go to the time out chair.
Jayna: I don't have to go to time out if I don't want to.
Me: Now you get 2 time outs.
Jayna: I don't care!!! If we're late for school, you're in trouble mommy!!! No television!
Speechless. She renders me speechless. Partly because she's using my only act as her own. And partly because if I speak, laughter will spill out of me. It really is so funny and frustrating at the same time.
All of that brought me to this story:
Last week, our baby monitor broke. I refuse to buy a new one seeing as how Jayna is 3 and we have no plans of having more children. What I didn't realize was just how dependent I was upon that baby monitor.
Okay, I DID realize it. I did. And that's why I still kept it. Because I love to hear her sing herself to sleep. Call me a sap.
But, in my defense, she was apparently dependent upon it also. She found comfort that we could hear her if she needed something. And she no longer has that.
At first, we just didn't tell her that it broke. We just listened for her with our ears (and in our TINY house that isn't hard) and went from there. Well, Monday night, Chris and I spent some time outside after Jayna went to bed.
And then pandamonium ensued.
I went in to get a drink and heard Jayna crying. I went to her room and asked what was wrong. She had to potty. So we went potty. I asked her how long she'd been crying...she said "a long time." I felt bad because she did look as though she had been crying for some time. As she was going potty, I told her that the baby monitor broke and that Chris and I couldn't hear her anymore if we were outside or in certain places in the house. I told her that if she needed to go potty that she had to get up, come out of her room and find one of us. Easy enough.
**WRONG ANSWER!!!! Sorry..."Toooooooo Easy" was what we were looking for. Your consolation prize is waiting for you: An undisclosed amount of nights of the 3-year-old getting out of her bed no less than 80 times in a given night at various times allowing you NO free time after she goes to bed.**
How is that a consolation?? Yeah...it isn't.
I put her back in bed. I picked up the phone and dialed it. I said, "Hi...." and then I turned around. There she was...just standing behind me. "I'll call you back."
I looked at Jayna and said, "What do you need?" She responded with, "Umm...I...uhh....have to potty?" And put her hands in the air and shrugged her shoulders.
Potty, my ass. She just had to test my "get up, come out of your room and find me" theory.
I put her back in bed and explained to her that she couldn't just get up whenever she wanted to for whatever reason. My words: "If you get out of your bed and come find me, it has to be for a good reason...like you have to potty. You can't just get up whenever you want. It's bedtime."
She got up one more time after that and then went to sleep. I was just SURE that I disarmed the situation.
Wow...I'm 2 for 2 on the wrong answers. I have so much faith in myself as a parent.
Yesterday was a challenge. The whole day. She was okay in the morning aside from one small fit that was ignored. And she stopped.
I'm starting to think that ignoring the kid is the way to go. If I ignore her, she stops doing what I want her to stop doing.
"But you can't just ignore you kid all the time, lady. I think there's a name for that...and it is 'neglect.'"
But what if I promise to only ignore her when she's being A CRAZED LUNATIC. Will that be okay? Yes it will. I think that's what I'm supposed to do when she throws a fit anyway. It'll be nice to try doing something the "right" way for once.
So last night was horrible. It started with a heated argument and fit in the car. She got a time out for sassing and what I believe to be cursing at me. It was said through lots of tears, but it sure did sound like she said, "What the hell you say to me, mommy?" I let that slide based on the fact that she had already gotten a time out.
By the time we got to dinner time, she'd had 3 time outs and gotten television taken away. That, my friends, is unheard of for Miss Jaynie.
After dinner was a bit more subdued. And then a screaming fit at bathtime.
Finally we were at bedtime and I couldn't have been more excited. I was over the fits and the sassing and the screaming and the crying and the throwing herself on the floor.
Oh, and the falling down on the floor and then saying, "You knocked me down, mommy." I forgot to mention that one. And that one just straight up pisses me off. I was nowhere NEAR her at those times when she fell down on the floor and said that. And I won't stand for that. That one earns her a one-way ticket to a 3 minute time out (her time outs are still 1-2 minutes because we don't have to do it that often.).
She went potty and then went to bed. Chris and I went out to the patio thinking that she'd go right to sleep because she was super tired. Hence all the bad behavior.
And her second wind kicked in.
I was in the house trying on a dress I'd bought. She came storming in my bedroom. "I have to potty!!"
Three drops of pee later, she was back in her bed.
I was sitting at the patio table. I thought I heard something behind me. She was standing at the sliding door knocking. I went in and asked her what was wrong. "Something's itching me in my bed."
A bed inspection and a lame-ass "Maybe it's the tag on your blanket." excuse on my part later, she was back in bed again.
Repeat the sliding door routine.
I sent Chris this time. He changed her shorts because they were itching her and put her back in bed.
Repeat the sliding door routine.
I went in and asked her what was wrong. "My bottom itches."
I wiped her with some baby wipes and put her back to bed. This time I decided to stay in because I was tired of going in and out.
She began to cry about 5 minutes later.
I went into her room. "I still itch."
I put lotion on her and told her that it made it so she would NOT itch anymore. (Keep in mind that when I would ask her where she itched, she'd point to a different random body part everytime. With absolutely NO evidence of scratching.)
She began to cry 5 minutes later.
I sent Chris. "I heard a noise."
He told her to stop crying and getting up and GO TO SLEEP.
She began to cry 5 minutes later.
I went in and...I'm not sure what I said. But she barely made a peep after that time.
What did I WANT to say to her? GO THE F**K TO SLEEP.
When I posted on Facebook about this problem last night, I got a link to that book. Yes, it is a real book. There is also a Youtube video of Samuel L. Jackson reading it, but to view it, you have to sign in. If any of you parents would like to read it and NOT buy it, I have it saved as a PDF file that I can email (Thanks, Kellie!!). Leave your email in the comments (don't worry, I won't publish if you don't want me to) and I'll send it along. It's refreshing.
While it isn't a book that helped...or even a book that I could read to Jayna, it made me realize that I'm not the first parent that's gone through this. And I won't be the last.
Keep calm and carry on. And then write a book about how you feel...without holding back. I apparently worked for Adam Mansbach.
I don't know how long this will last, but one thing is for sure: WHEN THIS ISSUE PUTS ITSELF TO REST, THERE WILL BE 3 NEW ONES TO REPLACE IT.
I'm sooo freakin' in for it.
1 comment:
Ha ha ha ha ha.
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