My Last Week as a SAHM

Big changes are coming for my family.  Again.  But, I have known this day was coming for almost, exactly, 12 months now. 

In some ways the past 12 months have passed in a blink.  And in other ways, it has seemed more like double or triple that amount of time.  It has been a great year and a hard year, all at once.  But now that the day is nearly here that I will return to full-time work, I wish that I could have just a little more time.  More time to play, run, and swing.  More time to do all the crafts and projects I still have not managed to have time to do.  More time for fun field trips and lunch dates with my two favorite little kids.

And, although I spent a lot of this year wishing away time for this day to come, now that it is here, part of me is still not ready.

I have so many mixed feelings surrounding this new adventure we are about to embark on.  I have searched long and hard for that perfect position and it seems I have finally found it.  I am excited, hopeful, ready.  And yet I am nervous, scared, overwhelmed. 

I knew that this would be a temporary situation...that has always been the plan.  But, as the days turned to weeks and then months, it has felt far less temporary and more our new way of life.  And a large part of me has been perfectly at peace with this reality. 

You see, I have loved this time with my kids where I was able to solely focus on my most important job: Mom.  If you caught me on a bad day, maybe it didn't always seem that way.  But I promise you that I have always remained grateful for the time and all of the experiences and memories I was able to create with my kids this past year.  For that matter, I already know that for the rest of my life, I will always look back at this year as one of the best...and most simple...of my children's childhood.

These memories will surely sustain me over these next weeks and months as I re-learn to juggle my "Mom" job with my new job.  (That's where the overwhelmed feeling is kicking in.)  I only hope that my kids will be able to feel the same as they see less of me than they are used to.  They will adapt, right??

I have seven more days to do all the things.  It feels too quick, daunting even, to pull off all that was left on that proverbial list of mine.  Seven more days to soak in this current life and prepare for the new one.  It feels big and so I'm trying not to think about it too much.  It's a good change...really. 

So now, I will put on a new hat, throw another ball back up into the air to juggle, get my brain back into the "zone" and hope and pray that I can do it all.   
   

These are the moments I will cherish.

It Must Be Nice To Be My Husband

I have now been doing this whole SAHM/WAHM thing for 10 months.  That is nearly an entire year.  Sometimes it feels like I have been at this new routine for YEARS and then other times it feels totally brand new. 

I have learned so much during this time - about myself, my kids, my goals in parenting and in life.  And while this has all been fine and dandy, there is one thing that I now know FOR CERTAIN.

It's the most wonderful time of the day! (For Mommy too...)

It must be nice to be my husband. 

Yes, he works at an often stressful job with unpredictable and sometimes long hours.  His job frequently invades our nights and weekends.  The stress of it can feel like another appendage at times. I get it. 

But, now that I am home and not scurrying off to a full-time job with a long commute every day, his responsibilities at home have been FAR reduced.  I don't want to specify how reduced because he will read this and I know that he will disagree with me; however, let's just say the last time the man located a cleaning product he was aged in a different decade.

Now, I don't want to sound like Husband does nothing.  He definitely pulls his weight around our house and is most nights in charge of bath and bedtime, giving me a much-needed reprieve...so I can write humorous blog posts about our life.  Ahem.

BUT, and this is a significant BUT.  From my viewpoint, he gets off pretty easy in the whole scheme of things.  He gets to shower and leave the house 5 days a week ALONE.  He doesn't have to wrangle two kids to get dressed and brush their teeth, now please, so we can get out the door on time for school. 

I seriously find myself pondering what life would be like if I could shower in the morning and subsequently leave the house by myself with an entire commute to do, well, absolutely nothing but drive, listen to music and chew gum.

When Husband returns home, the house has been cleaned, dishes and clothes washed and put away, dog walked, dinner (usually) prepared and ready to eat.  Groceries have been purchased, children picked up and dropped off from school, and all the other items that used to fill our weekends are now complete. 

But, this is my job now.  A job I didn't necessarily sign-up for, but, shockingly, one I really wouldn't trade for the world (right now at least). 

And while Husband certainly misses out on all the grunt work and gets to walk in the door to a chorus of screams from two children who act like they haven't seem him in months, I know that I am the real winner. 

(See Husband, and you thought I was going to spend an entire post whining.)

While I may not always look pretty or even get a shower every day, I get to spend every day with the two of the three most special people ever.  And for that I will suck it up and clean the high chair tray, again.

School Started and This Mommy is Not Crying

Six weeks ago a momentous occasion occurred in my household.  Behold: my oldest went off to preschool!!  Never mind that he had previously been enrolled in daycare/preschool until this past June and this school is only three half-days a week

The reason to celebrate is simple.  He has been home full-time for the last three months and while I have loved (depending on the day) having him home all the time so that we can gallivant around town however we please, I also came to an important realization this summer.  This is a kid who needs both structure and routine but more importantly, an outlet for his immense energy and enthusiasm.

Being home full-time, it seems, has created multiple behavioral issues with him.  Brother has been picking fights with and being generally unkind to his younger, 19 month old, sister.  He has been refusing naps on the regular.  He has been resisting falling asleep for a good 90 minutes after we put him to bed at night and still waking at 5:30 am and then acting like an exhausted kid all day but still refusing sleep. 

Turns out, I believe all the idle, unstructured time at home has just not worked quite well for him.  And, ironically (or maybe not), every single one of the above issues we have experienced over the past few months has magically gone away over the past six weeks.  It's really been amazing.  We are cured!!

Also, to be honest, as much as he needs a break from too much time hanging out at home, I also could use the break.  Does this mean that I don't want to be home with him?  Does this mean I love him any less?  No.  Definitely not. It just means that I am both human and a busy parent who needs a few hours here and there to also have a break.  (Note: this is not true time to myself as little Sister is still home.)

The moral of the story though is that this little break, because it is little at just two and a half hours three days a week, is a good opportunity for all of us to do something fun without a mommy, sister or brother up in our business and to make new friends and learn new things.  The positive effects of preschool have clearly been far-reaching in this house! Everyone, and especially these little ones, need to feel a little independence as they mature and prepare to head out into the world.  And what a wonderful thing that is for all of us.   

We still have two years until Brother starts kindergarten.  (Because of his birth date, he will not start school until he is nearly 6!)  And while there are some days that I wish for time to pass more quickly so that I can have a little more independence, there are more days where I relish in the fact that right now I get to be the primary caretaker for my kids.  It's a pretty special thing really and since I don't know how long it will last, I try so hard to never lose sight of this opportunity I have been afforded.

Two years from now, or twenty years from now, I want to have zero regrets for how I spent this time.  So, while I happily drop off my special little guy at school three days a week, I also know it will only be just over two hours until I see him again. 

And Now for My New Trick: Showering Alone!

Excuse me, I have an important announcement to make.  I just discovered the secret to a peaceful shower by myself!!!!!!  As in there are no children present.  I realize I may be a little late to this party, I apparently am a slow learner.  If you are a mom with kids home during the day: Pay attention.

See, I have this problem with getting to shower alone these days while I am a stay-at-home, work-at-home mom.  In fact, I rarely get to shower without an audience. 

Usually, the only way to ensure safety while I shower is to lock both kids in my bedroom with me.  Which, mind you, isn't peaceful or calm or anything resembling time to myself.  My bedroom also usually looks like a tornado hit it by the time I am ready to go.  As a result, sometimes it's just not worth the effort and the shower has to wait until nap time or even not at all...

Lately, my routine has included going to the gym 2-3 times a week.  Usually this happens while my oldest is at his half-day preschool.  I then bring my youngest to play with the other kids at the gym while I get a workout in.  The only problem is that after I am done I have approximately 23 minutes to get cleaned up and pick up my son.  So, I have been doing what any normal, rational person would do: Race home, throw a snack at my daughter and turn on Mickey Mouse, take a 3 minute shower, comb my hair, get dressed and run back to preschool for pick-up.  Calm and serene this is not.  So, I usually just remain sweaty for several more hours until I have time to do something with myself.  If I am lucky.

For some reason today, it occurred to me in the rush to get out the door that I could save myself several minutes of time if I showered at the gym and then went directly to the preschool for pick-up.  I packed my bag and went on with the morning.

Fast forward to post-workout.

I head to the dimly-lit locker room complete with energizing music, cushioned benches and full-size, surprisingly soft towels and prepare for my shower.  Sometime mid-shampoo, something occurs to me.  It's quiet.  Even peaceful.  There are no screams or demands emanating from around the shower curtain.  Hmmm.

This is really my locker room. For modesty's sake, I left myself out.

I finish my shower and proceed to get dressed where I am able to do so RIGHT AWAY without wrangling anyone or breaking up a fight.  Strange.  I even took an extra minute and applied nicely smelling lotion.  Then, I combed my hair and put on make-up without having to also do the same for a certain 19 month old. Not that I mind, its kinda cute she wants to do everything I do. But sometimes there just isn't time for that!

As I walk to the playroom to retrieve my daughter, I feel a sense of calm and peace come over me.  In that moment (and to be honest, only that moment), I feel like I am totally rockin' this Mom thing.  It was that feeling of having my sh*t together for what seemed like the first time in months ever. 

It was also nice to go to preschool and for once not be a sweaty mess.  See, other moms, I can look pretty here and there!

Right now, I am kicking myself for not thinking of this genius idea sooner!  Which leads me to my next question: Is it inappropriate to take the kids to the gym just so I can shower?

She Only Has Eyes For Her Brother

When I think back to my own childhood, many of my memories include a certain much younger sister trailing around behind me.  Everywhere.  Always. I may or may not have constantly complained to my mother about this fact.  Her response, "She looks up to you. One day you will want her around."  Well, that day eventually arrived so I guess the joke's on me.  (See Sister, I do like you after all!)

Now I have whined stated nicely a few times about my kids and their tendency to, here and there, get under each other's skin.  And while these moments are not fun for me, the Mommy, since my son started his new pre-school a few weeks ago I have noticed a better trend emerging. 

They really do love each other.

We picked Brother up from school last week and you know what was the first thing was he said when we got in the car?  "Sister, I missed you!"  Me = puddle.  Then another day after we got home from pick-up, he gave her the biggest hug ever and she hugged him right back.  If these moments did not happen so quickly, I would record them if only so I could prove to them in 10 years that there was a day when they really did love each other.

So, there has been less fighting over Sister stealing batman and Brother grabbing back a train.  (Side note: That Sister is no joke.  She steals toys right out of Brother's hands, lays on top of them, and giggles.  Perhaps she is going to give us a run for our money?)  Life has been a little bit more pleasant and enjoyable because this Mommy has not had to separate kids that just do not want to play nicely together.

I will sit here nicely, if only for my brother.

So all of this is a little too cute, right?  Well, here's where it gets a little more fun. 

We all know that 18-month-olds can be a little challenging, to put it mildly.  Based on my own personal experience,  I also would wager that 18 month old girls, in particular, are even more so.  And my daughter has certainly not been an exception.  If she does not want to do something, it's just not happening, no matter how much I sweet-talk or bribe.  It's her way, or forget it.  She is the very definition of strong-willed and opinionated.

Let's say she refuses to eat one bite of her dinner, and I try to airplane it into her mouth - it's just not happening.  But if I then coerce have her darling brother to simply ask her to take a bite of said food. Bam. In the mouth.  Same for getting dressed, taking a bath, picking up toys, and on.  It's a bit ridiculous really.  My word is mud.

It is required now that Sister must do exactly what she sees her older Brother doing.  We also have to make sure we now have two of everything.  Maybe I am naïve but I really didn't see this happening at such a young age.  This morning, for example, we dropped Brother off at school and she completely lost it when it was time for her to say good-bye.  She had already found her place at the table and was ready to color, you see.  I had to drag her kicking and screaming, literally, out of the room.

Brother also plays soccer.  So, Sister must play soccer.  Last week for his first practice, she threw another fit because she wanted soccer socks and a soccer ball just like her Brother.  So, she wore the knee-high socks with her sneakers and carried along a baby-sized soccer ball and off we went.  Temper tantrum averted. 

At the end of the day, I'll take all this sibling love and milk it for all it's worth.  Why not capitalize on it and even encourage it a little more, right?  Sister looks at her bigger, older Brother with adoring eyes and I know that this relationship will only grow stronger as they get older.  Right??? Please say yes!     

Life Is Short: Love Your Children

I have a very dear friend who lost a child at the age of 6. It was less than a year between a grave diagnosis for Mattie Goble and the moment she received her angel wings, and, in the process, I learned so much from this sweet girl and her firm-in-faith family.

I don't want this to be a sad post, primarily because Mattie would not want it that way. Instead, she would be so proud that her legacy has absolutely impacted who I am not only as a person, but most importantly, as a parent.

Today, my friend sent me this text:  "You better love them. You better spend time with them. You better tell them EVERY day in some way, shape or form that you love them." She wasn't telling me this to make me feel guilty that I still have my child in this physical world. She was telling me because it's important to hear. As parents, we can get so caught up in the world that exists every day, that we forget about what's most important. And, to me, that's my daughter.

Mattie's parents fought this battle with her - every moment of every day. If they could have taken her pain away and amplified its strength onto them, they would have - in a heart beat. They were the pillar of strength and love that this little girl needed to know that, even once she left this earth, she has a Mom and a Dad that love her fully and unconditionally - for the rest of their lives.

Although I respect and love her parents, it was Mattie herself who taught me a lot about what it means to be a Momma. So, here you have it. My little six-year-old friend "learned" me:

1. There is no greater gift than to be a parent.
When you're a parent, you have a little person that thinks you hang the moon. This little person waits with bated breath for every word you say, every move you make, every smile you give. Wow. What a responsibility. But, also an incredible earthly gift. I hurt Baba's feelings not long ago. It was completely unintentional and done only out of exhaustion. But, the look on her face and the downward slope of her shoulders reminded me that my impact runs much deeper than I may ever imagine. I much prefer the toothy smiles and belly laughs!

2.  The little stuff matters. A lot.
Speaking of those toothy smiles. Kids don't need a lot to know they're loved. It's a moment given to treasure the texture of a rock found right outside the front door, instead of rushing to the next place and the next moment. It's allowing the sidewalk chalk to track all the way up the outside front stairs - just because it makes her happy (and, who cares, I tell husband - the rain will wash it away. But, her happiness will remain). It's the smile during the last moments of the day - reminding her that my love runs deeper than any river in the world.

3.  Parents are the best friends a child will ever have.
Think about it. Children don't typically develop true friendships for several years. Which means we get to be their best friend. And, what do you do with your best friend? You love them unconditionally. You laugh with them until your cheeks hurt. You make them feel good about themselves.  And you cherish them. As a full-time working Mom, my moments with Baba each day are small. But, we make them big!

4.  At the end of this world, all that matters is love.
We don't get to choose how long we live in this world. But, we do get to choose how we live it. And, we do get to choose how we respond to those most important to us. So, my dear friend, thank you for the reminder. Because, try as I might, I forget sometimes. I am human and I am imperfect. Really imperfect. All I have is today. Today is the day to be the best parent I can be to someone who deserves my very best.

And, because I love this dear little girl who taught me more life lessons in parenting than she'll ever know, allow me to get on my soap box for a moment. September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month.  In the US, almost 13,000 children under the age of 21 are diagnosed with cancer each year. This month, we remember the young lives taken too soon, stand with the families facing childhood cancer today, and rededicate ourselves to combating this terrible illness.

To donate to an organization started in Mattie's name and dedicated to funding research for this disease, please visit: www.mattiesmission.org.

An inspiration like none other.

Mommy's Being Mean

A few days ago I had one of those days. 

Regardless if you stay at home or work full-time, you know the kind of day I am referring to, right?  When nothing goes your way no matter what you do.  When you are tired, the patience is worn thin (or out) and you just need a little space to catch your breath and figure out the next move. When the kids don't behave regardless if you talk in your sweetest, most loving voice or scream at the top of your lungs.  When you also have 15 phone calls to make, several hours of errands to do not humanly possible with two kids in tow, a house to clean and dinner to make.  Let's also throw in a new job to figure out (more on that, later).

By dinner time, I was just exasperated.  Mostly because my three and a half year old and 18 month old would not stop with the fighting over every little toy we own. Which was turning into pushing, shoving, and hair pulling - and that's from EM, the 18 month old! (Side note: I'm thinking this girl is going to be able to hold her own on the playground...)  Who knew that this would even be a problem at these ages?!  Not me. 

Anyway, they were bringing their battle to the kitchen where I was trying to make dinner while simultaneously answering a few emails, return a phone call, and do the dishes.  Screaming and crying ensued over a wooden banana and a wooden steak. 

So what did I do?  The only rational thing of course.  I lost it.  I proceeded to give them a lecture of epic proportions that likely they did not even understand.  I also may have been raising my voice  just a tad.  It wasn't my prettiest moment as a parent but, in retrospect, the entire day was leading up to this and, frankly, I had nothing left. 

CJ, the older, perhaps a little wiser one, responded to my tirade with, "Come on sister. Mommy's being mean. Let's go."  And he took her hand, and walked them out of the room.  They then proceeded to QUIETLY and NICELY play for at least the next 20 minutes.  THEY LEFT ME ALONE.  I literally did not hear another peep.

Moral of the story:  Sometimes it is perfectly OK to get a little fiesty at your kids.  (I'm kidding, kinda.)  They won't like you for it (I promise, that's fleeting) but they may just leave you alone as a result!  And, if they learned even a little something (like, maybe, Mommy is only human, is not a saint, and needs a minute to breathe), it seems like a win-win to me. 

A moment of adoration for big brother.  And it was just that- a moment!

Mommies Can't Get Sick

It's law, right? Mommies can't get sick.

We don't have time. We do so much. We don't have time. The kids always need us. We don't have time.

Last week, I got knocked down. By something ugly. I have no idea where it came from, but it literally caused me to sleep for over 24 hours. In the middle of that, I tried really hard to care for my child. I know I dragged myself from room to room, attempting to cook her healthy and wholesome meals. Attempting to bathe her and brush her teeth, when all I really wanted to do was crawl back into my cocoon and sleep it all away. I felt like I did pretty OK.

But, wouldn't you know it? I show up to school one day in the midst of my physical anguish, to pick her up and her teacher says, "We're not really sure why, but she was a little extra needy and clingy today."

All the bad mother alarms go off in my head. I know exactly why she was clingy and needy - because I have failed miserably at being attentive, loving and playful when I felt like death warmed over. Like ten miles of bad road.

Seriously? I can't even get sick.

Let's take a moment to briefly recount what happens when (most) Daddies get sick. They moan, they whine and they sleep. While we do everything. Moment over. We love Daddies. Just not when they're sick.

I was feeling so terrible, I even went to the doctor, which never happens. Ever. In fact, the last time I went to the doctor was six months ago when the same train wreck happened inside my body. They (the infamous "they." Will we ever figure out who "they" are?) could figure nothing out. Blood work? Fine. Internal organs? Fine. Everything appears to be fine.

Second lesson here: I need to take care of myself. Because, at the end of the day, I can't get sick. There's no time and my kid needs me. When on earth am I going to learn this lesson? Am I going to have to endure this physical torture every six months until I wise up and make little changes in my life to combat this crud before it invades me? I hope not.

But, if you're a Mommy, you should know this, too.  You can't get sick. There's no time for that garbage.

I Don't Go to the Gym to Workout

Ok, that's half true.  I definitely go to workout.  I had two kids in two years- trust me, I NEED to workout. 

But lately I have been making an effort to go to the gym just a little bit more often and here's why:  I need a break. 

Right now, I am a full-time stay at-home mom, and as of two weeks ago, my son is also home from pre-school for the summer.  So for those of us counting, that's one 3 1/2 year old and one 17 month old.  And me. 

Keeping these kids entertained, fed healthy and complete meals and snacks, not fighting over who touched whose toy, and ensuring I don't completely lose my sanity is no easy task.  Not to say I don't love spending this time with my kids, but 10 hours a day while Daddy is at work can add up to a lot of hours to fill. 

Oh, and did I mention we live in the desert and it's hotter than hell outside?  The only outdoor activities we can participate in lately must involve water. 

So back to my big kick to get in shape.  Don't tell my husband - he thinks this is all a big effort to get that pre-baby body back.  And, while I do need to tone up (who doesn't!), my bigger motivation these days is to get some easy-peasy Mommy time.  Because, quite frankly, it's not so easy to get much time just for me.  And, I really don't feel guilty about this at all.

Our gym has an amazing kid zone complete with movie room and bounce house.  Trust me, the kids are not suffering.  They have time to play and interact with kids their own age and come back to me content and, bonus, a wee bit tired.   

You see, being home with the kids full-time can be, despite what many may think, exhausting and overwhelming.  I wouldn't trade it but that doesn't mean I don't need healthy outlets to maintain a little independence and well-being.  My time at the gym is most peaceful, calm, and serene part of my day - yes, seriously.  Even while breaking a sweat. 

Bye kids!
 (Can you just feel my sigh of relief?)

A Stay At Home Mom...By Accident

I've now been a full-time stay-at-home mom for 6 months.  6 MONTHS.  And, never in a million years did I think I would utter that sentence.  But there you have it. I have become what I never thought I would be.

Part of me thinks: What in the world has happened to me??  The other part: I kinda like it.

I did not purposefully and consciously decide to quit my job and stay home with my two children, ages 3 years and 16 months.  I definitely did not ever picture myself as a stay-at-home mom.  In fact, when I married my husband I specifically told him that was just not part of my career goals and long-term plan.   

But, as we all know, life often takes turns you did not envision and this is definitely one of those for me.  You see, I was laid-off from my job 6 months ago and so far I have not found that next perfect professional opportunity.  While I am still trying to discover what I want to be when I grow up and also find a position with a company that allows me the balance in my life that I desire, it just has not happened for me yet.

So, for 6 months now I have been able to arrange weekday playdates and fun outings, cook interesting and healthy meals, get back into a workout routine, create and deepen friendships, and so many other activities that the kids and I have enjoyed together simply because I did not have to go to a job outside of the home.  (Because, what I am doing is most definitely still a job.)  Oh, and I also painted three rooms in my house. Go ahead - call me Susie Homemaker - I don't mind.


I could do these moments every day forever.

While being home with two little ones is definitely not easy and full of challenging moments, they are just that- moments.  I wouldn't trade for anything the hardest of days with these kids (and there are LOTS of those) for not having had this time at home with them.  I know with complete certainly I will never regret this time at home despite the strong desire to be professional and earn an income again.

I also know that months or years from now this period of time is one I will feel so nostalgic about.  I already am having twinges that I should be doing more - more fun, more adventures, more activities.  It's a tough one because there are also the chores, errands, naps, laundry, cleaning and such to keep up with. 

So why the regret right now?  There is a chance that my time at home will soon be ending.  And, instead of excitement this thought makes me so sad.  I knew going into this that being home was temporary but it's getting to the point I cannot imagine not being home.  I am definitely struggling with this possible change.  

Change is a good thing, right?  I know that when I decide to make that big change and return to work, it will only be for the position that truly feels right for me, my children, and my family.  I can't imagine it any other way at this point. 


My Little Tornado, aka My Daughter

Holy moly, is a 15 month old busy!  Where in the world do they get this energy from?  I may not take a nap every day and sleep 12 hours a night (frankly, ridiculously less lately due to that same 15 month old waking every day at 4:45 am, thankyouverymuch. And remember, I am currently laid-off, therefore not needing to wake so early), but I still can't figure out where the reserves for this level of activeness come from.  Although EM is my second baby, I guess I forgot about this part.  

Toys are inconsequential, many days food is too. The only thing of interest is getting those little hands on anything and everything that has not been locked up or tied down and throwing it in her wake.

When do they stop being little tornados?

Frankly, there are days that I could do without that tornado that tears through my house multiple times per day.  I don't even know where all this stuff comes from - most of our cupboards are child-proofed but not everything we own is able to be either.  I know you may say, just leave the mess until the end of the day.  I do.  I clean it all up at the end of the day after bed time, except that which creates a tripping hazard through my kitchen.  Is it wrong to want just a wee bit of order even throughout the day?

I know this is a phase and it too shall pass.  And, as my husband reminded me this morning, when EM is 15 years old and being difficult as only a teenage girl can be, we will fondly look back on her tornado days with a tear in our eye at the preciousness of it all.  I do not disagree. Yet, part of me cannot wait to be through this particular phase.  Does that make me a terrible mom? 

This age is truly adorable and enjoyable for so many other reasons.  EM is starting to talk, developing such a wonderful personality, and a real relationship with her brother, and watching her figure out the world around her is an amazing experience as her parent.  She is a light and a joy to our family.  She laughs louder and harder and we all follow suite.  We marvel at her silliness.

Yet, this tornado part of being a 15 month old is getting just a bit exhausting for this mommy.  Can't we just sit and play nicely (and maybe quietly) with a few toys?  Nope, there she goes again.  Off to go rescue her brother's beloved trucks before he notices.

How To Talk So Your Kids Will Listen?

Does anybody out there know the answer to this question? 

We seem to be going through a, hopefully brief, phase here.  CJ is my oldest, who is currently 3 years 4 months old, is just not listening these days.  And by not listening, I mean no amount of yelling, talking nicely, talking quietly, bribery, taking away of toys or privileges, time-outs, or anything else I can think of seems to be getting his attention.  He does what he wants until I am so exasperated that he finally goes along with what I am requesting of him, if only because I have scared him into it. 

I know what you may be thinking- be patient, he's only 3!  I do get this in concept, however, many days we need to be places at a certain time and I just don't have the time for him to take 23 minutes to go potty, walk to the door, and put on his shoes.  Frustration, unfortunately, wins.  (Frankly, Mommy could use a time-out once in a while.) 

I have to believe I am not alone in this struggle.

I sometimes have a glimmer of what's going on here.  CJ is asserting his independence and making his own decisions.  As I have said before, this is a kid who is fiercely independent and has demonstrated in many ways that he will decide the direction of his life - already at 3! (And, what does this mean we are in for down the road!?)

I also sometimes think that maybe this is a cry for attention.  To be honest, many moments of the day I am distracted when CJ is present.  Whether its tending to his little sister who is 15 months, making or cleaning up a meal, performing various job search activities while I navigate this new time at home, or any of the other myriad of daily chores inevitable with young children, I can't always be completely 100% devoted to giving him the attention he needs and deserves.  I have tried to become more aware of this and have made it a goal that once a day I spend some amount of quality one-on-one time devoted to just CJ.  The problem: it just does not seem to be enough to satisfy him.

So back to my dilemma:  How do I talk to CJ so he will listen and respond?  (And, so that I do not have to repeat myself 55 times before he responds.)  I do feel that I have tried to communicate to him utilizing various types of communication but no one thing seems to be truly effective. 

Sometimes he does respond appropriately.  And, truth be told, it is usually when I talk very calmly and nicely while holding his hand and/or looking him directly in the eye, with no nearby distractions. 

I need to try harder to always do this.  Sometimes, in the chaos of life, it just seems too hard to stop what I am doing and spend a few extra minutes to explain what I need him to do.  Although, I guess those extra minutes could save me even more down the road if he listens and responds right away, huh? 

Maybe I have answered my own question after all.  In the meantime, I know one mom that needs to practice even more patience and understanding and not place unrealistic expectations on these little ones.

CJ recently got treated to lunch at Costco for good listening.
(Not ashamed to admit my attempts at bribery.)

The New Witching Hour

What is it about four p.m.?  Three-fifty p.m. is easy-peasy.  Four o’clock hits and all hell breaks loose.  I have recently been laid off and so my kids are home with me all day. I know, cue the violins. But hear me out, please.  We have lots of fun in the mornings going on various adventures.  Lunch and nap follow and everyone seems to know what is expected of them.  Nap time is over and play time commences.  All seems to be going well and then, bam!  It’s four o’clock.  Daddy can’t get home soon enough as far as I am concerned.  No amount of projects, crafts, games, toys, TV shows, or even the sacred IPad, is enough to induce good behavior.  The three year-old and 1 year-old are fighting over toys, tearing apart the house, jumping on the couch, annoying the dog, wanting Mommy to be the entertainer extraordinaire.  (Did the previous seven hours mean nothing?)  Meanwhile, Mommy is attempting to cook a homemade, nutritious dinner which needs to be ready by five-thirty or these precious kids will really lose it.  On the really bad days, a glass of “mommy juice,” as one of my dear friends calls it, tends to be the best coping mechanism.  Wink, wink.

Maybe it’s the anticipation of the hour.  They know it’s almost dinner time, they know Daddy will be home soon-ish. They also are probably sick of Mommy and would like someone different to take over. Me too, kids.  At this point, the letters d-a-d-d-y take on a whole new meaning for all of us.  (Incidentally, the letters I would like to conjure an appearance are g-r-a-m-m-y.) But, I am not quite sure Daddy understands the importance of his homecoming.  I do know that he better be ready to hit the ground running. 

Daddy arrives, said nutritious dinner is consumed, and all is right in the world again.  Until tomorrow.

 

Photo taken sometime after four o'clock.