"Parent"dox: Sometimes a Pair is Not Enough

Sunday Night "Parent"dox #17:  Sometimes a Pair is Not Enough

As a mom of two young children, I have become accustomed to getting things in pairs.

If I reach in the box to grab a package of fruit snacks, I better be grabbing two packages.  When I get down one bucket to play with during bath time, a second one is soon to follow.  As soon as one kiddo asks for their pillow and blanket while watching a movie, I know I'll be coming back downstairs with two pillows and two blankets.

It's pretty much just become part of life now.  

Like breathing.  

Because, like breathing, the consequences of it not happening are not pretty.

Not.  Pretty.

This is not to say I don't value teaching my kids about sharing, and teaching them you don't always get what you want.  Because I do.  There are many, many chances they have each day to learn these lessons and we talk about them a lot as a family when they come up.

But realistically?  In the trenches of parenthood?  Pairs are so much easier.  Like exponentially, inexplicably easier.  So our house does indeed have a lot of doubles.

With that said, I witnessed yet another "parent"dox today.  I had picked up water squirters for my kids while I was at Dollar Tree.  Fun, cheap, summer fun.  $2 versus $1 to not hear arguing and bickering over a toy?  Sounds like a small price to pay.

Or so I thought...

Within having them home for a half hour, there was already a disagreement at hand.  Mind you, it was a balmy 58 degrees today (yes, it is indeed July 28...you did not travel in a time machine to October) so they were not playing with the squirters in a pool or body of water of any sort.  They were simply playing with them in the living room.

"She has my squirter!  I want to play with it now!"
"But I want this one! I don't want the pink one!"
"I want to see it! Give it back!"

Wait a minute.  That dollar was supposed to prevent situations just like this one.  

But alas, it did not.  Even though each of my kids both had a new toy to play with, and they were identical -- minus the color of the handle -- there was already too much demand and not enough supply.   

The "parent"dox goes something like this:  I have something that is pretty much exactly the same as the something you have, and we should both be grateful for the something we have, but when it comes down to it, I really want the something that you have.  Like the exact something you have.  Meaning literally what you have in your hand, not a duplicate or replicate something.  

Sometimes a pair is not enough.

Here's the other kicker: as soon as one child loses interest in said item, the other child loses interest almost instantaneously.  

Wait, you don't it anymore?  Well that's funny, because neither do I. 

Let's both go want the same exact thing again, that we probably have two of anyway.

Pairs or not, You Are a Good Mom.  Just remember to keep breathing...

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"Parent"dox: "I Need You to Help Me Do Everything By Myself!"

Sunday Night "Parent"dox #14: "I Need You to Help Me Do Everything By Myself!"

Oh, the unspeakable joys of a very independent, very strong-willed three-year-old girl.  

I've been told time and time again that her personality will serve her well as an adult and she'll be assertive and she will be able to speak her mind and and she will be able to really pursue what she wants in this life, and that is all fantastic.  And I agree.  I am thankful for who she is and who God made her to be.  

There truly is great joy, but sometimes it is unspeakable because it's buried under all that independent, strong-willed-ness she's got going on.

Every single thing she does all day can turn into a power struggle in the blink of an eye.  The hard part about this is the number of tasks she faces in a day that are just slightly out of her independent reach.  She either lacks the strength or the height or the manual dexterity or the speed to do them on her own quite yet.  I can honestly see where her frustration comes from.  Unfortunately,  we don't always have the time for her to try and power through things on her own and Mom or Dad has to step in and help her or (Heaven forbid) just do it for her. 

Here are a few snippets from recent days with her need to do everything herself...

• We delivered a gift to her great aunt at school.  Her brother gave the gift to said aunt.  Four seconds later, my daughter asked for the gift back so she could re-give it to her aunt herself.
• I carried her to the car from our house.  As soon as her little kicking feet hit the ground, she marched her self right back to the door we had left and walked the same exact path to get herself to the car completely on her own.
• I attempted to put her tennis shoe on her foot, as we were running late to get to her tumbling class.  As soon as I let go, she took off not only the shoe, but also the sock, in order to do both tasks on her own.  (She also likes the "one-up" or "I'll show you, Mom" move, as well.)
• After unbuckling her from her car seat, I set her on the ground.  She climbed back into the car to jump down herself, all the while telling me "I do it! I do it!"

I could go on and on, but you get the idea here.  The inspiration for this post, however, occurred a few days ago when I was trying to get her into her car seat.  As you can imagine, she wanted to walk from the house to the car, climb up into the car herself, climb up into her car seat herself and click in the 3 buckles on her car seat herself.  Because we weren't on a time schedule and this particular battle wasn't one I was up to fighting, I let her do everything on her own.  After about 5 minutes of messing with the car seat buckles (which she isn't strong enough to click on her own yet), she looked up at me and said:

"Mom, I need you to help me do everything by myself!"

And there is was.  In her independent, three-year-old way, she had revealed yet another "parent"dox.  I absolutely adore the way she made this statement, too.  She said it in a pretty serious tone, with a furrowed brow, as if I should have known this all along.  It perfectly sums up how she feels about every task she faces throughout the day: she wants to do it by herself, but if she's not quite there yet, she wants me close enough to be able to step in and give her help.  Not full-out help.  Just enough to nudge her into independence.  

Rip the fruit snack wrapper just the tiniest bit so she can do the rest on her own.  Move the cup closer to the edge of the counter so she can reach up and grab it herself.  Untwist the toothpaste cap just one turn so she can complete the task on her own.

In our very best mother/daughter moments, she'll look up at me with her big blue eyes as she's trying to do something all on her own and ask "Mom, we do teamwork on this?"  I cherish those moments when she's not only willing to accept a little help from me, but when she actually asks for it.  Not out and out says "I need help" of course, because that is not in her DNA.  But for her, it's as close as I'll ever get.  And I'll take it.

Who Doesn't Love a Good Framed Needlepoint ?
Growing up, my mom had a little framed needlepoint sign hanging in our downstairs bathroom that read:

"There are two lasting gifts we can give our children.  One is roots.  The other is wings."

I don't think I ever fully understood this sentiment as a kid, even though I read it in excess of a million times, I'm sure, while washing my hands.  Now that I'm a parent myself, it has become evident how much wisdom those words contain.

Even though my children are still quite young, I'm beginning to see that this quote captures the essence of parenthood.  On first glance, it may seem that we provide roots early in the lives of our children, and as they make their way into their young adult years, we switch gears and provide wings.  I am learning, though, that this isn't the case, and with most things related to parenthood, it is not so clear cut.  No matter their age, we have times when we are providing roots, and times we are providing wings.  Even as a grown adult with a home and family of my own, there are moments I still look to my parents for roots.  Even though my daughter is three-years-old, there are moments when the very best thing I can give to her as a parent is wings.  

We are in a constant dance with our children...sometimes we take the lead, sometimes we follow their lead.  I'm trying to learn the steps as I go, but it isn't easy.  I know there are times when I've stepped on my kids' toes, when I've held them too tight as they've tried to twirl or spin away.  I know there were times when they needed me to hold on a little tighter and direct their steps a little more, and I came up short.  

Each day, though, I am learning.  I only hope that each day I'm getting a little better.  

I hope that when my kids look back, they will be able to recognize the times where my husband and I have provided them with roots, and also the times where we've tried to give them wings.

I hope they'll be able to say "Mom and Dad, you helped us to do everything by ourselves."

And if I'm dreaming big, maybe they'll even say it without screaming it at me from the back seat of my Minivan while I'm trying to wrestle them into their car seats.

When you're providing roots and wings, when you're learning the dance steps as you go, when you're helping your kids learn to do everything themselves, You Are a Good Mom.

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Until I Became a Mom

There were a lot of things I thought I knew about being a Mom before I became a Mom.  But come to find out, there were actually a lot of things I didn't know -- things no one could have just "told" me; things I had to experience for myself -- until I became a Mom.

Until I became a Mom, I didn't know...

...I'd run a full dishwasher on a daily basis.

...it would become commonplace to remove boogers from someone's nose other than my own.

...so many of my conversations would be about poop or pee...when, how much, what color...

..."nap time" would be the two sweetest words my tired ears could hope to hear.

...I'd keep my 2-year-old company by sitting on the bathroom floor and reading her books as she sat on the potty, and I'd actually be excited that day had arrived.  

...my decisions would carry such weight; not just for me, but for my children and my family, too.

Until I became a Mom, I didn't know...

...the theme song from "Wonder Pets" and "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse" would be sung nearly 'round the clock in my house...frequently, by me.

...just how difficult, yet important, carving out time for myself; time with my husband; time with my girlfriends would be in maintaining my own sanity.

...I'd hear my mother's words coming out of my own mouth.

...I would spend the night in a steam-filled bathroom with my croupy 4-year-old to make sure he could breathe, and I'd be full of worry and compassion, not frustration and impatience.

...there would permanently be Cheerios or graham cracker crumbs in some part of my house or car at any given time.

...I would want so badly to  be able to take someone else's pain away and make it my own.

...the laundry would never, ever be "done" again.

Until I became a Mom, I didn't know...

...I would purposefully take the "long way" home, based on the sliver of hope that the extra time in the car would get my infant to fall asleep.

...I'd be able to have my heart nearly burst with love and adoration, just watching someone sleep.

...I could be out-negotiated and out-stubborned by a toddler.

...reading the words "I love you, Mom" in preschooler script could completely melt my heart.

...that 7:00am would now be considered "sleeping in."

Until I became a Mom, I didn't know...

...sometimes just taking a shower would be a victory for the day.

...I would laugh out loud everyday, just from the things my kids would say and do.

...I'd be wearing maternity clothes long after that baby was here and in my arms.   

...that Popsicles and Band-Aids can fix just about anything.

...how hard it would be, how rewarding it would be, how exhausting it would be, how amazing it would be and how nothing else on earth could truly prepare me for all that it meant to answer to the title of "Mom."

Until I became a Mom, I didn't know...

...a piece of my heart would now forever live outside of me.

Until I became a Mom, I had no idea just how precious those words -- You Are a Good Mom -- would be, and how I would carry them with me long after hearing them.  I didn't know how much I'd need to hear them, to remind myself of them, especially in the moments when I least felt like I was living up to them.  

Whether you are desperately in of need them today, or they are just a happy reminder, from the very bottom of my heart to yours, please know You Are a Good Mom.

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What things did you not know until you became a Mom (or Dad)?  Write in the "post a comment" box below, or click on "# comments" and a comment box to write in will open so you can add yours to the list.  Thanks so much for taking the time to share! (Feel free to share any other thoughts, feelings or reactions to this post, too!)

"Parent"dox: The Power Struggle

Sunday Night "Parent"dox #5: The Power Struggle
The Power Struggle.  It is no stranger to our home.  Most of the time, my daughter is the one who invites it in.  Most of the time, it wears out its welcome.  Most of the time, I am exhausted by the time it leaves.

However, tonight, I share with you the very rarest of of "parent"doxes: when the Power Struggle actually works to your benefit.

I  know...it sounds as real as a unicorn or a leprechaun or as likely as actually picking the fastest lane at the grocery store.  But every once in a blue moon, this elusive "parent"dox occurs.  At our house, it was over a banana.

My kids love bananas.  (They also frequently "go bananas," but that is another story completely...)  Their favorite way to eat them is like a monkey, meaning peeling it and holding it themselves.  If, heaven forbid, there is a brown spot of any kind, they balk, put the banana on their plate, and loudly proclaim they will not eat it.  Fortunately, as long as my husband or I quickly cut out the offensive brown spot, they are happy to gobble the rest of their beloved fruit up.  

One morning, as I spotted a brown spot on an already peeled banana, I thought I would be proactive and avoid the drama by just cutting it out before it became an issue.  My son looked at me and said "What are you doing, Mom?"  I explained my plan of action, to which he responded "Don't!  I love the brown spots!  That is my favorite part!  It tastes just like the rest of the banana and I'm going to eat it up!"

Um....excuse me, what?  Was that my son?  Had he been abducted by aliens and replaced by a pod person?  Was this the best acting job in history performed by a 4 1/2 year old?  Was I still asleep?  These were all equally possible occurrences.  I was totally baffled.     

Then it dawned on me.  This was a Power Struggle in disguise.  He had simply won it before it even begun.  My little strategist...I think he's been playing too many games of checkers.

I'm guessing this is how it played out in his mind.  Mom is trying to do something I did not ask her to do.  This is not OK with me, because now Mom has the power and I do not.  Forget that.  I am taking back the power, and I will let her know I will eat and love the brown spots, just because she is trying to get rid of it, and she was totally wrong to even think about cutting it out, even though deep down I really want her to cut out that nasty, gross, mushy part of my banana.  I will choke it down if I have to, just to maintain that tiny bit of power.  Game over.  I win.

What his little preschool self doesn't know, is that Mom is actually 100% OK with him winning this one.  1.) I didn't actually have to cut the banana, 2.)  There was no drama/whining/carryign on to speak of, and 3.) He ate the entire banana on his own without him nagging me.

There are many, many power struggles waiting for me in my very near and very distant future.  I know they are coming.  I know most of them will not work to my advantage.  I will cherish this one.  I will enjoy it.  I will smile and wave at the leprechauns riding a unicorn through my backyard. 

As you encounter your own Power Struggles in your world, You Are a Good Mom. Whether it is a newborn refusing to take a bottle, a toddler refusing to take a nap, or a teenager refusing to pick up their room, hang in there.  You are not alone in dealing with your Power Struggles!  And maybe, just maybe, one might work to your advantage one of these days.