Category Archives: The Mommy Thing

Bedtime Battles

Posted in The Mommy Thing by

My girls will not go to sleep.

And I’m about battled out about it.

Regardless of what time I actually bring them to their rooms, regardless of the following of routine, my children stay up chatting, giggling, reading, playing with stuffed animals — and, occasionally, arguing, wrestling, and crying. It turns out that melatonin doesn’t really work unless the kids chill after immediately taking it. Taking some, then playing for another 30 minutes — no effect.

I’ve tried getting them to bed around 8 p.m. (always challenging anyway). The usual time I shoot for is 8:30. I’ve even tried pushing it later to 9 p.m. because I know they aren’t going to sleep anyway.

I really flipped out on them Tuesday night because I was exhausted. I got home from soccer and wanted to clock out of being a mommy. However, there was homework to supervise and baths to give and everyone was hungry for a night time treat. At 9:30, the girls had a giant fight in their room, and I went storming up the stairs and screamed like the proverbial fishwife at them.

Super relaxing environment for going to sleep in.

Last night, I went up after the Penguins game, and they were organizing their nightstand drawers.

I mean, come on. I can’t get them to do that when I ask them to on a random Saturday afternoon. Why pick 10 p.m. at night on a Wednesday?

I don’t have any practical way of separating them at bedtime. We could take books and stuffed animals out of their room, but I’m not sure where we would put them in the meantime.

I am out of ideas, and ready to let them just put themselves to bed. As long as they will stay *quietly* in their room from 9 p.m. on, they can stay up as long as they like. (And as long as they don’t wake Michael or keep me up.) That’s not a real practical solution, but the nightly battle has worn me out. Pretty soon, school will be out, the nanny will be coming every day, and they can sleep the mornings away if they want.

Aside: Michael’s been giving me some grief at bedtime, but once he sees I mean business, he settles in for his book and lullaby, and he drops off like a stone. The activity in the evenings and the bath-book-bed routine works so well on toddlers!

What do you do when you don’t want to fight the battle anymore?

Is It Cool to Hate Mother’s Day Now?

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I went shopping Wednesday after work with all three of the kids. We went to Costco, ate pizza, and picked up some things to get us through the week. (I needed snacks for soccer as well.) The kids were… not that great. All I wanted was for them to walk through the store like normal people. They couldn’t do it. It was very frustrating.

As we were leaving, a woman behind me remarked how brave I must be to be shopping alone with three kids. I said, “Brave or crazy.” She laughed. “Well, have a happy Mother’s Day anyway.”

It made me feel kind of good.

I’m not getting the “Oh gawd I HATE Mother’s Day” sentiment that seems to be rampant on the Interwebz these days — even from some fellow moms. It just reads like the hipster thing of the day.

It’s similar to the angst I see (and have felt) surrounding St. Valentine’s Day. “It’s a Hallmark holiday!” (Almost literally true about Mother’s Day. Even the woman who got it made into a national holiday in the United States ended up hating how commercial it was by 1920.)

I can understand ambivalent feelings about Mother’s Day. I have my own complicated feelings about it due to my experience of being a baby loss mother. And I can even understand the scorn heaped on it by women who are not mothers (understand it, but not accept it — I mean if you hate it so much, just let it go. Is it worth it to get so very riled up about “push presents’ — which I agree are icky — or brunches?) I, myself, don’t like the huge gift expectations that the day has engendered in the past few years.

If your relationship with your own mom is complicated, well that’s a whole ‘nother story. I, fortunately, don’t have a complicated relationship with my mother. She is a good mom, and she’s a great Nonna, and although our relationship has never been an entirely smooth road, it’s been important to me and how I see myself as a woman and as a mother.

As always, I told Dan for Mother’s Day, I just don’t want to do anything. (I will end up doing something.) Church with my family, a brunch I don’t have to slave over and/or clean up; ditto dinner. Homemade cards from the kids. I did ask Dan for perfume (and told him what kind). I won’t be devastated if I don’t get it.

(I will be seeing my mom Saturday evening; if my MIL wants to join us for dinner on Sunday, I’m all for it. I’m just not doing the planning. Cards will be distributed. Possibly chocolate chip banana bread, too, but I’m not promising anything. Depends on soccer.)

No matter what kind of mom you are (and there are so many kinds of moms!), I hope someone, somewhere, wishes you a happy Mother’s Day. And I hope that you can accept it for what it is.

Do you hate Mother’s Day? Why? If not, what are the reasons you like it? I like it because I like my mom, my MIL, and my kids. I’m pretty blessed as a woman, and that’s what I try to remember every day, not just on Mother’s Day.

M.I.A.

Posted in The Mommy Thing by

Hi.

Remember me?

Anyhoo, same old story: sick children (viruses have been particularly rough on Casa di RPM this year), work deadlines (which are hard to meet when you have sick children), house in disarray.

Dan and I are also wondering if we’re so overwhelmed between home and work that we are each suffering some depression/anxiety that’s hurting our ability to deal with some things. An interesting fact I recently picked up is that anxious people have trouble falling asleep (not an issue for me, but is for Dan) and depressed people have trouble staying asleep (i.e. my dreaded 3 a.m. insomnia).

So, something else to keep an eye on.

All right. I’m off. Lots of work to do until Dan has to go to the office, then I have to nail down a sitter tonight for the two sickies so I can take Kate to soccer practice. Kate needs soccer practice, and I need her to go to soccer practice.

Any volunteers?

Quandary, II

Posted in The Mommy Thing by

Flora asked me something yesterday.

And I said I’d like to talk to Dan about it.

And she asked me not to. She got pretty upset.

(And, no, Internet, I’m not going to tell you what it was either.)

It’s not a big deep dark secret, it’s nothing that’s going to put her in physical danger. She wants to do something, and would like my assistance. It’s the kind of thing I could see being a “girl” thing or something special between a mother and a daughter.

I’m clearly uncomfortable with it. Not the thing itself — I’m fine with what she asked. I’m uncomfortable not telling Dan.

Here are my options as I see them:

1. Don’t tell him, and just keep it between me and Flora.
2. Do tell him, but ask him to not say anything to Flora because she asked me not to tell him.
3. He reads this blog post (not a sure thing, but not out of the realm of possibility), and demands to be told anyway. I tell him, and ask him not to tell Flora I told.

She asked me not to tell her father because she’s afraid of a) being teased, b) being embarrassed and/or c) being in “trouble”. It’s not something she would get in real trouble for — her daddy may find it upsetting because it’s a sign she’s growing up and becoming more independent.

Flora doesn’t like upsetting her Dad.

Either way, I’m betraying a trust. Dan trusts me to communicate about what’s going on with the kids. Flora is trusting me with a secret.

I’m torn. My instinct is to tell Dan and ask him not to talk to Flora about it. Tell him that I will be there for her in this instance.

And then I waver. If I do that because I want to establish trust between me and Flora, want to establish a bond that will help her come to me *no matter what*, aren’t I basing that bond on a lie?

ARGH!

Here is where I understand the desire to keep children small, something I generally don’t wish for. I like watching my children grow, enjoy watching them hit milestones, develop new skills, learn new things, and be excited about new skills and learning.

We were at a restaurant last night with my parents, and first Kate acted up, and then Michael threw a tantrum — I walked outside with him to calm him down and not bother other patrons (even though it was Eat ‘n’ Park). On the way out, I noticed a little baby, probably about 5-6 months old, contentedly hanging out in his carseat. And for a split second, I wished my kids were that little and that easy again.

*sigh*

But they aren’t.

What think you, readers?

Edited to add: And then there’s the issue of telling Dan and putting the burden on him to keep it a secret that I told him Flora’s secret. That doesn’t seem very fair either. Darn it all.

Things Kids Do

Posted in 2013: The Year of Focus, The Mommy Thing by

Eight years into this parenting thing, and I’ve been noticing that there are things my children do that I *automatically* tell them not to do. And then I think, “Why do I bother telling them to stop doing that? They aren’t going to stop.”

So, I’m going to try to stop telling my kids to stop doing certain things.

For example:

1. Walking in the snow. Regardless of what kind of footgear they are in, my kids HAVE TO put their feet in the snow. I ask them not to because I don’t want snow all over my rugs or the inside my car. But what does it matter? The sensation I refer to as wetsock isn’t exactly the greatest, and they’re going to complain about their cold, wet feet, but so what? Dirt washes, snow melts, feet warm up.

2. Tilting the kitchen chair backwards. My brother used to do this all the time, and it drove my parents nuts. Dr. Sis and I sat on a bench at the kitchen table (perhaps to prevent this very thing. Hm). It’s futile to tell the girls to not tilt their chairs backwards. I’ve tried to give it up. If they fall backwards, it’s going to hurt. Actions have consequences.

3. JUMPING ON THE BED. Why oh why do children jump on the bed? Is it *because* it drives adults mad? For that matter, why does it drive adults mad (or at least me and Dan)? I want to not care about jumping on the beds. I guess it’s a complicated matrix: expensive furniture that may break, someone may fall and get hurt, the noise.

I have gotten better about a few things:

If my kids want to eat three yogurts, or five cheese sticks, or thirteen raw carrots (that would be Flora), I let them. I try to only limit chocolate and other sweets. You want three cut up apples? In a row? Before dinner? Have at it. (I have to cut M off from clementines, understandably.)

The giggling. Giggling sounds harmless, I know, and in general, giggling is good (so much better than bickering). But giggling when Flora is supposed to be doing her homework — irritates me. Also, giggling when they are supposed to be going to bed. Or eating dinner. Giggling when I wish they were getting a move on with other business — irritates me. I’m trying to get better.

Potty talk. *pshaw* Whatever. As long as they aren’t actually swearing, they can talk about butts, farts, pee, poop all they want. I ask them not to do it in public (loudly, at least); my ILs have a zero-tolerance policy on potty talk at family dinners; and I draw a line at name calling (i.e. poopy head).

There are some parenting things I need to lighten up on. Flora recently asked if I would get upset if she didn’t get married. I thought about it, and I told her that no, if she decided not to marry when she was a grown up, that wouldn’t make me mad at all.

Kate piped up, “But if you don’t get married, you can’t have children.” (I know, but just roll with it.)

Flora murmured, “I don’t know if I want kids.”

I was quiet for a long moment. (This was a “car talk,” by the way. Car talks are the best.) Then I said, “I make being a mommy look really hard, don’t I?”

Flora said, “Yes. It just seems like a lot of work!”

I decided then and there that it was important for me to make my experience of parenthood more fun. I have to laugh more and stop sweating the little stuff. I have to stop yelling (so much).

I have to stop caring about jumping on the bed.

What do you have to stop caring about?

Flora and the Violin: A Love/Hate Relationship

Posted in RPM Rants, The Mommy Thing by

Last year, Flora asked if she could start violin lessons.

Dan and I talked, and decided first grade was too young for her. We wanted to get her settled into a new school routine, see what homework would be like and so on. If she was still interested, there was no reason she couldn’t start in second grade.

It was the right decision.

Dan was ecstatic that she was interested in violin. If there is a true musical aficionado in my house, it’s Dan, not me. He has very specific and classic tastes (not being snarky here, he really does). And he loves classic music.

I had misgivings about Flora starting an instrument, but the school the girls attend makes it very easy. Classes are during the school day, twice a week; violin rental is a breeze because you just send the teacher a check and he does the actual legwork; and most everything else comes home from the school as well.

The only obstacle — and I know you can see it coming because we’ve talked about Flora’s attention issues before — is practice.

It’s very simple: Flora needs to come home from school and practice violin for 15 minutes.

That’s it. That’s the rule. I’ve been giving her a pass on Fridays and weekends, but I’m going to change that.

She tries to negotiate with me about it. Can she eat dinner first? No. It’s 15 minutes. Can she play with Kate or Michael? No. Go practice. It’s 15 minutes. If she goes to the bathroom in the middle of it, I stop the timer. She has to play her violin for 15 minutes.

Flora and I have had several go-rounds about this topic. And ultimately here are the two issues for me:

1. It’s 15 minutes. She has to be responsible enough to do it when I tell her to do it. I can’t be up in her business about it — I’ve got dinner to get on the table and two other children to manage when we get home. I tell her to hang up her coat and go practice her violin (usually in her room). I will probably continue to give her a pass on Friday (I’m such a softie), but I’ve told her from here on out she has to practice one day on a weekend.

2. (This is the real red flag for me.) When we have had these go-rounds — and we just had one on Monday — I have said to her: You either practice, or you’re quitting violin. It makes no difference to me (although quitting would save me a semi-weekly argument, and a bit of cash). If she is going to stop playing, she has to tell her father and tell the violin teacher.

Flora is afraid to tell her father (and/or the violin teacher; I’m sure the violin teacher at the school has seen his share of students who’ve quit). She doesn’t want to disappoint him (or them).

I am uncomfortable with this. Flora is a born people pleaser, which is fine to an extent. (Oh, and I’m the exception. It’s not that Flora doesn’t want to please me, she just wants to do it in the easiest, quickest way possible, which is why she tries to negotiate with me so often.) But now her desire to please her father is conflicting with her desire to be committed to violin.

I don’t know how to help her resolve this conflict. I don’t even know that I should. She has “quit” about three times already — until she talks to Dan. Then she recommits. Then about two weeks (or two days, or 10 days, or however long it takes Flora to decide that 15 minutes is JUST TOO LONG!), Flora and I argue about practice again.

I flipping hate it.

I don’t know if anyone has suggestions or wants to give me encouragement or whatnot. This is kind of one of those posts that I just had to write because it’s a parenting issue driving me bonkers. Please, don’t suggest a chore chart or reward system. I have so many gd chore charts and reward systems started in my house. I never keep up with any of them. Flora’s not the only one with commitment issues.

And yes, Dan and I have talked about this too. I don’t know that we are on the same page here. For all I know, he is promising to buy her a pony (hyperbole alert) if she sticks with the violin. He knows my position.

Does Not Playdate Well with Others

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I’m doing playdates (for my children) wrong, and I’m not sure what to do about it.

Two recent examples:
At Flora’s request, I invited one of her classmates to the house one Sunday. I picked the girl up, and first we went out to lunch. Kate was with us, too. Flora and her classmate huddled together over her DSi at the restaurant, and giggled about stuff (and picked at their lunches). Kate didn’t seem to mind very much. She wasn’t too wild or whiny, and she ate quite well.

Once we got home, something changed. The classmate didn’t want to do what Flora wanted to do; Flora didn’t want to do with the classmate wanted to do; and suddenly, the classmate and Kate were playing together more.

This didn’t sit well with Flora. As you can imagine. Dan and I were left managing our older daughter’s emotions about the situation.

The second example was less about what happened on the playdate, than what happened before. I actually know why I got blowback on this one. I had committed the girls to a playdate and sleepover, and, frankly, they didn’t want to go. It had nothing to do with the little girl (who is between Kate and Flora in age; she’s in first grade, and isn’t a classmate, but a neighbor); it had to do with activity burnout (we are terribly busy), the weather (they wanted to hunker down with me and Dan), and the fact that *I* had committed them to something without asking. So I know how to deal with that in the future.

After asking them to please do me this favor, go on this playdate, they did agree to, and they did seem to have a good time. They came home Sunday excited about the neighbor’s Xbox and hopped up on Sour Patch Kids. The condition was that I wouldn’t commit them to such things in the future without asking. They can say no. I think that’s pretty fair.

I’m not sure *what* to do in the first scenario. Stop having playdates, of course, is an option. I don’t invite kids over so that I have another little person to supervise. I actually am open to playdates to reduce the number of children I have to supervise — my assumption being that two or three little people will play together, and I will have one or two children to supervise or occupy. That day, I was thinking of stuff to do with Kate while Flora and her classmate played games or something. When that didn’t happen I was caught quite flatfooted.

Of course, there are logistical difficulties in our house right now. We are engaged in demolishing and rebuilding our basement (a project we expect to take months) to turn it into one large area, a great deal of it set aside for our children (and their toys). So the girls can play in their room (which I’m okay with as long as there’s no bed jumping — which, fat chance), or in the front room (where all the toys and the TV are now), or in the kitchen at the table. If M is awake, they like to go to their room… and close the door, which, again, I can’t blame them for. M has to learn that the girls have their own space and he doesn’t have to be included in all their activities.

I also understand that sometimes three is a crowd, that it’s easier or more desirable sometimes to just play with two rather than three. I see this with my daughters all the time. (Does this happen with boys? Is it an age thing? Kate and Flora are only 27 months apart.) When Niece comes over, sometimes tempers flare when all three girls aren’t on the same page — worse when two are and one is left out. I’m not sure if there’s anything to do about this except to tell the one to deal with it and/or offer an alternative activity.

Do you do playdates? Are you good at them? Any advice or commiseration for this mom?

This Week’s Hard Thing

Posted in The Faith Thing, The Mommy Thing by

Flora is receiving her First Holy Communion this year.

Dan and I attended a meeting regarding Reconciliation (the sacrament that comes before Holy Communion). Glancing over the page of dates, I felt a little drop seeing Saturday April 27 as the day of her event.

We usually go to Cook Forest the last weekend in April, and we had been scheduled to do it this year, too.

And now we’re not going to. I’m a little sad. My Twitter friend @SecretAgentL tweeted: “Remember, Jesus trumps vacation. :-) “

I KNOW.

I’ve been going to Cook Forest on and off since my mid-20s, with college-era friends. The last time I didn’t go, Kate was a newborn. Dan stayed home with M when he was a newborn, and I went up with the girls.

Ah, well, as my friend Jen says (not on Twitter, on the phone), “The great thing about Cook Forest is there’s always next year!”

I know it’s also a bummer for Jen, who is Flora’s godmother. But we can arrange for her to do something special to acknowledge the rite of passage at a different time. (Jen is the reason that Cook Forest happens at all; she cannot bail!) Dan and I haven’t told the kids yet. Michael doesn’t know what’s going on yet, anyway (last year was his first trip to CF); Flora will probably be sad but copacetic; Kate’s probably going to hate it. Maybe we won’t say anything until they ask.

What do you do when two big things in your life conflict?

This Is My (Almost) 6-Year-Old

Posted in The Mommy Thing by

Kate hands me a picture she has drawn. It is of a building. At the top, a sign says, “Toes.”

Kate: I’m not done with Santa’s workshop yet.

Me: Okay. You can finish it after school today.

Kate: What does it say? (She points to the sign.)

Me: It says, “Toes”.

Kate’s little shoulders slump: Oh.

Me: What’s it supposed to say?

Kate: Toys!

Quandary

Posted in The Mommy Thing by

Kate did not go to school on Friday.

She got up complaining of a stomach ache and a headache. While she felt somewhat warm to the touch, the ear thermometer showed her temperature was normal.

She broke down. “No! That just shows that my ears are normal! Maybe it needs new batteries!”

Now, mornings are already trying times in my household. We don’t do them well. With the #bathroomredo it’s a touch more chaotic, what with me running across the yard and all.

So: Friday. Kate is physically refusing to move. She is buried under her blanket, curled in a ball. She will not get dressed, and we lack the strength and the fortitude and *time* to pry her apart and get her out the door. We suspect we are being played (no temperature), but can’t be sure (she really does look bad, bags under eyes and all) and WE HAVE TO GO.

Fine. She’s off to Bella and Tadone’s. I’m off with Flora; Dan is off with Michael. I check in a couple of times throughout the day. She’s fine. She’s eating fine (and she PIGGED OUT at dinner), she isn’t warm, etc. etc.

I’m somewhat preoccupied with this situation on Friday. This is the second time of note that Kate has pleaded sick in the morning without actually being sick. The first time was because her class had a Thanksgiving program the day before Thanksgiving (that I didn’t even know about), and she was nervous.

So I suspect that something is happening at school.

And then I remember what she told me when I picked her up on Thursday. In short, a classmate of hers (whom she has complained about before) was all up in her face all day AND said classmate had pulled Kate’s jumper over her head. When I asked if she had told the teacher, she said she hadn’t because when she said she was going to CLASSMATE CRIED. And she felt bad Classmate was crying. So she didn’t tell the teacher.

I told Kate that the reason Classmate cried was because she knew that she was going to suffer the consequences of her actions. She knew she was doing something wrong, and that she was going to get in trouble if Kate told on her, and so she cried.

And Kate fell for it. (Empathy can suck it.)

Ironically, of course, Classmate harasses Kate the way Kate harasses other people (especially, let’s see, FLORA). Classmate wants to play all the time, Classmate gets too close to Kate, Classmate touches Kate A LOT, Classmate won’t accept it when Kate asks to be left alone, or play with someone else, Classmate gets very upset. The jumper incident is kind of an escalation.

I would prefer it not escalate further. Obviously.

I talked to Dan about it, and Dan and I talked to Kate about it, and I nailed it (Kate was “sick” because she doesn’t want to deal with Classmate), and we basically said she can’t pretend to be sick when she doesn’t want to go to school.

Here’s my pickle: Even though I am a bad helicopter, and part of me thinks that Kate and Classmate are going to have to work this out (and Kate is going to have to tell the teacher about Classmate if/when she is giving Kate problems, which happens a couple of times a week), let’s face it:

THIS IS MY BABY DUCKLING. I WANT TO GO ALL MAMA BEAR ON THIS CLASSMATE. I AM MIXING MY PARENTING METAPHORS HERE.

Should I go talk to the teacher? What should I say? Should I maybe call Classmate’s mom? We have chatted at school events. I also happen to know that Classmate’s parents are engaged in custody warfare over Classmate, so I’m guessing some of her issues come from her home lives. (It’s messy, people. MESSY.)

Or do I give Kate the tools she needs to deal with Classmate on almost-6-year-old terms?

What are those tools?

HELP ME, INTERNET!