Hiding From the Children

I’m currently hiding in our guest room.

It’s the end of nap time. Normally nap time is this awesome time when I get to detox after a morning of getting things thrown at me or watching things get thrown at other people.

These days I need nap time. We’re going through a period of disequilibrium. And it’s not pretty when mama doesn’t get some down time.

But it didn’t happen today.

Lesson: NEVER do errands during nap time. You let down yourself and the errands.

I went to the grocery store and then FedEx. I needed to mail two prayer shawls to friends. These are awesome shawls that women at our church knit to provide comfort to anyone who may need it. The pray as they knit. That is awesome. I picked out shawls for two lovely friends who are going through some sh*tty times. The shawls were blessed today by our fantastic priest, who gave this rockin’ sermon about her time as a mentee of one of the first Episcopal woman priests. I digress….

Point being: I was upbeat. Because women priests rock.

Lesson: Never be upbeat when going on errands. High expectations only lead to broken bones hearts. 

So I get to FedEx all gung-ho: Let’s get this sh*t mailed!

Oh wait. No one is available to help me because you’re all on the phone? No worries! I’ll just grab boxes and forms, and fill these suckers out so I’m all set!

Ten minutes later the Lady comes over: “I see you’re shipping these Express Air.”

NO! Who ships personal stuff Express Air? Seriously, Lady? I did not fly here in my private plane.

It leads one to wonder: Why are the only boxes within reach of the peasants the Express Air boxes? Well, we peasants do like to steal cheap stuff, so better keep the Ground boxes out of reach….

The Ground boxes are behind the desk. But FedEx Lady can’t figure out what size I’ll need. She’s “not good with numbers,” she says.

Why don’t you bring a couple boxes over here and we can try them out??

She thinks this is a good idea. I mean, Lady, we are mailing shawls here. They can squish into anything.

Then she gets to my forms.

“Oh, I should have come over earlier and told you to fill out these forms.”

Yes, you damn well should have. Because all your f*&king FedEx forms are varying shades of pastel purple with pale gray writing. 

Lesson: Never, NEVER, fill out a FedEx form without first waving it in an employee’s face and yelling, “U-S-A! Ground! Cheapest ship! This form!”

At that point I lost it. My nap time detox window was closing in on me. I was going to spend the rest of my time filling out forms while FedEx Lady tried to punch numbers into her monkey computer.

Not good. I put my head in my hands. Not good at all.

And that’s when I ended up in my car, shawls on the passenger seat, headed home, crying terrible cries and gnashing terrible teeth, with snot and tears streaming down my face.

Lesson: Driving in the car is a  great place to have an over-the-top and cathartic ugly-cry because you’re in a soundproof container and everyone else is paying attention to the road.

I’m at an emotional place at this particular moment in my life when wasting my me-time is treacherous. I need it. I really, really need it. Like, do you have any? Because I’ll buy it from you. How much do you want for it?

Luckily my husband is home because it’s Sunday. And when I got back, defeated by bureaucracy and barely able to speak, he suggested I hole away in our bedroom.

But they’ll find me. The children will find me. 

“How about the guest room?”

Yes! They won’t know I’m there! 

So here I am. Hiding away, refilling my tank before going back up for another round.

I Went to a Parenting Conference So Now I Know Everything

I hate going to conferences. While I’m there I usually want to poke my eyes out with a fork. That’s probably because “experts” aren’t always great presenters.

But on Saturday I went to the Parent Child Preschools Organization’s Building Lifelong Learners conference. Though based on my session selections, it should have been called Clinging to Your Sanity. (I went to “Challenging Behaviors I,” “Challenging Behaviors II,” and “Success with Siblings.”)

K-Pants has been having more tantrums lately. Baby Woww learned to scream. And if I’m not being hit, then they’re probably hitting each other. It’s not really that bad. Sometimes they pull each others’ hair.

Truly I have very easygoing kids who are generally well-behaved at preschool, for grandparents, and at other people’s houses, but I’m with them a lot of the time, and, well, momma needs some new strategies.

So I packed all the gourmet food I could find in my house and headed to a conference on Saturday at 8 a.m.

It was easier to leave after Baby Woww threw a jar of peanut butter on my toes in the midst of a fit that seemed like it might last all day.

Bye, Honey! Did I mention that I signed up for two afternoon sessions– Happy Hour I and Happy Hour II? I’ll be back late.

I wish. But you know what, I had a great presenter (the same woman, Lynn Collins) for all sessions.

Here’s my main takeaway: I’m doing a good job. And so are you.

We all try to be consistent and stick to our guns. We try to keep our kids safe and find positive ways for them to play. We feed them, show them they’re loved, read to them, and look out for their general well-being.

Even though we’d all like for the cameras to pan in on our parenting at any time and find us in the midst of another amazing moment of positive discipline, that ain’t always happening. And that’s okay.

Lynn said that about 10% of our parenting is filled with the amazing, teachable moments we strive for; 80% is us getting by, trying to make sure our kids are doing well and the rules haven’t been thrown out the window; and the other 10% is when dragon-parent comes out.

(Lately Dragon Lady had been making more of an appearance at our house, which is why I was there.)

I’m not sure that this parenting breakdown is what Lynn wanted to be my biggest takeaway–she said it as kind of an aside–but I’m pretty sure her goal was to empower us as parents. And I feel good knowing that I’m doing okay.

***

I am excited to share some more specific ideas for the benefit of friends who had wanted to attend, especially from ”Success with Siblings,” which I found to be the most useful. In the meantime, here’s to you!

The Day I Smashed The Fire Alarm to Bits

I’m trying to start a trend in my house. It’s the mommy-doesn’t-yell-or-lose-it-today trend.

Each day I wake up and think, Today could be the day.

Right now I’m feeling like today could really be the day.

Before kids I would not have thought this would be so hard: A simple adherence to my straightforward and compassionate parenting theories would protect me from all but the occasional F-bomb or mommy-tantrum.

But raising little people is a constant pressure cooker.

I few Thursdays ago I was steaming some dumplings in an effort to feed the troops, when K-Pants yelled from the living room, “Mom, I’m peeing!” Peeing in the living room is never a good thing, but suddenly the smoke alarm in the kitchen went off because the dumpling pan had run out of water and was smoking.

Sidenote: I think that made these smoked dumplings, which would be my entry in the Top Chef quick fire I’m executing in my mind.

Both kids understandably freaked out at the fire alarm.

So I went into action: I threw the pan off the heat, opened the windows, and moved to the alarm.

The damn thing wouldn’t shut off. I pushed the hush button a million times. I held it down. I glared angrily and swore.

Still nothing. A plan had to be hatched.

According to my parenting theories, I should have taken the kids to the front door, reminded them where we meet outside when the fire alarm goes off, told them it was safe, and then calmly taken out the battery on the alarm.

But I’m finding that parenting is a lot more about game-time decisions than executing the well-planned strategy.

So I ripped that mo-fo off the wall and hurled it as hard as I could at the floor.

You know that dream you have about ripping your alarm clock out of the socket and bashing it to bits? I did that with the smoke alarm.

Who’s shrieking now, mother f*cker!?!? That’s right! I OWN you! 

Luckily I only said that last part in my head.

When we talked to my husband on the phone a little while later, K-Pants ratted me out, of course.

• K-Pants: “Daddy. Mommy broke the fire alarm.”
• Hubby: “Well, we’ll put it back on the wall later.”
• Me: “Um, I don’t think that will work this time….”

The Island of Misfit Mothers

Some days I feel like my life is a surrealist painting.

Look! The children are taking pears for a walk! Now they’re making oatmeal paste on the floor. Now they’re using stacking cups to throw water out of the bath like a sinking fishing boat. 

Are those raisins from someone’s poop? 

It doesn’t feel very safe living in a surrealist landscape.

Nothing stays the same. Something’s always about to melt.

Raising a three year old and a one year old makes me feel this way a lot. Especially in winter when we can’t just run outside and dig stuff up in the yard.

I start to think, “Who thought it was a good idea to have children so close together?”

Really, “Who thought it was a good idea to have children?”

I want them to go on vacation without me.

The boys can be wild. There’s pushing, and pulling hair, and screaming, and throwing Tupperware… and cans… and empty milk gallons.

I’ve tried a lot of strategies. We’re in preschool. We talk to people. But there’s no magic bullet.

Some days just suck.

And on those days I think that I need to go back to work and hire someone else to take care of my children. And my husband, who is very supportive, will say, “Well, let’s get you back to work.” Which only validates my feeling of being a terrible, horrible, no good mother who can’t handle raising her own children.

If I’m no good at this, what am I good at?

Also, is there some place that still does electroshock therapy? Perhaps on the Island of Misfit Mothers?

I bet they have licorice. And massage chairs.

I say Yes.