tantrum

ParenthoodThe Story

Just A Few More Minutes, And I Would Have Made It…

by Jill
written by Jill

Without snapping before naptime. I would have made it a whole half a day without losing my shit.

I woke up purposefully positive today, on a mission to make good things happen, to get serious work done, the house cleaned, and dedicated to focusing positive attention on my attention hungry toddler.

He is so needy lately. He is so demanding. He is so headstrong. He is so sneaky.

It’s a challenge. Every day is a challenge to not loose it, and most days I really, really fail, but I was going to do it today. I was going to work extra hard, employ every trick I’ve ever picked up from Super Nanny.

And I did. I praised the positive, ignored the negative, redirected, had to use a few timeouts, but it was going okay. We made it out to Satan’s Playground where I nearly melted in the 92 degree temps (IT’S SEPTEMBER!!), then I chased him around as he dug in the dirt for rocks. I even held back my urge to wipe his hands every 5 minutes, to tell him to stop getting dirty. I just let him play, dirt and all. After a couple more errands, we came home, had a great lunch and began to get ready for nap.

He does this thing now when I try to put on his diaper. We got rid of his changing pad on top of the dresser a couple weeks ago and now change him on his big, full size bed. He takes advantage of all the extra room and will. not. stay. still. I can’t even express how infuriating it is to struggle with a toddler for 5 minutes to put on a damn diaper. It is the STUPIDEST thing to get worked up over from the outside looking in, I know, but come naptime, I’M EXHAUSTED. I don’t have it in me to redirect, to distract, to coordinate the flailing limbs with the quick motions of my hands. Every single one of my requests, no matter the tone or how I phrase it, is met with laughter and defiance. And it pisses me off.

I lost it today. I ripped the diaper off and screamed at him, the calm demeanor I worked so hard half this day to maintain vanished, and I left the room for a second because I felt I needed to. And I could hear him cry, big sad cries. And when I returned he laid still, and he looked hurt, and I felt like an ass.

I talked to him about why I was upset, we both calmed down and he let me put his diaper on him and put him to bed. I apologized and kissed his head. And now I’m sitting here wondering if it’s just me that can be pushed to the edge so fast by a defiant 2 year old. How is it that he can push my buttons so hard? And why do I let him?

Kendall is 2 1/3 and don’t even get me started on the rage that boils from my belly when he does that limp-jelly-body thing anytime we’re in a hot parking lot.

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ParenthoodStuffThe StoryToddlers

I’m melting in pee

by Jill
written by Jill

Let me paint you a picture of my life right now. I’ll hit you up with all five senses.

You can’t see the bottom of our closet through the massive mound of dirty clothes (and honestly, some of them aren’t dirty, but they’ve gone so long without getting put away that we just tossed them back in the pile), Kendall’s laundry is piled in the hall next to the laundry room, waiting for it’s turn after the pee-soaked towels are done in the wash. There are dishes stacked in the sink, my kitchen floor has visible foot prints. I am suddenly disgusted by the amount of dog drool stuck to the walls and the baseboards should be burned.

It sounds like screaming, and whining, and Diego, and a washing machine running, and a white noise machine on the in the background that I always forget to turn off after I get my terrorist toddler out of bed in the morning. It sounds like “Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, UH OH!” and like “It’s NOT an uh oh if you do it on PURPOSE”. It sounds like a giant dog pissing on my carpet AGAIN.

It feels like a grimy table that’s next to impossible to get all the stuck on granola cereal cleaned off of.  It feels like sticky tile floors. It feels like stepping in a wet puddle of pee and wondering if it’s from the boy or the dog.

It tastes like coffee, a lot of it… and then later it tastes like wine. It tastes like omelets for lunch AGAIN because I know he’ll eat eggs. It tastes like chips, secretly consumed when the kid’s not looking.

It smells like pee. It’s inescapable. It also smells like I need to vacuum AGAIN. It smells like vinegar and water cleaning solution. It smells like baking soda where I’ve tried to soak up the pee. It still smells mostly like pee.

Today I’m not holding it all together very well. Today I’m frustrated and annoyed and overcome with guilt. Today I want nothing more than a break from my son. I want the whining and the screaming and the tantrums and the turning to jelly so that I can’t possibly gracefully pick him up from the floor of the bounce house and take him home to stop. I want it to be someone else’s problem for just a little bit. I want to come home to a house that is clean and will FUCKING STAY THAT WAY. Counter to what you may think of my housekeeping skills based on the description above, I do actually clean. A. LOT.  I want my dog, my nearly 7 year old dog who has had diabetes since he was 5 months old, requiring 2 shots of insulin a day, to get his damn blood sugar under control and to stop PEEING IN MY HOUSE. I want to leave this place and go on a vacation.

Today I’m guilty. I’m drowning in guilt. It’s washing over me and beating me against a rock wall. I don’t know what’s wrong with my nearly 2 year old kid. It could be that he’s nearly 2, or it could be that he’s not feeling well. I thought about making an appointment at the pediatrician, but I really have nothing to base it off of (no fever, no runny nose, no cough, no rash) other than him seeming completely and utterly bipolar for the last week. I want to have more patience with him. I envision myself being more loving, more kind, less frustrated. I hate that I get frustrated. I HATE THAT I WANT A BREAK.

I feel guilty for not caring more about my sweet, loving English Mastiff Bruno. I mean, I do care, but it’s hard to remind myself that he can’t help peeing all over the place when his blood sugar is at 400 for the 3rd day in a row. We left the dogs over the weekend with a dog sitter checking in on them twice a day. With his blood sugar being so high, he couldn’t make it the 12 hours between visits to potty outside. We came home to a house that smells like a kennel. The dog sitter did a great job cleaning it up, but this place isn’t going to be the same until we clean the carpets.  I hate that I’m so irritated by this.

It took nearly an hour and a half to finally get out of the house this morning and head to the gym. You know, the gym that watches my kid for 2 hours? Yeah, Kendall doesn’t like the child care center. He’s been three times now and each time he sits by the door cries or whimpers the entire time we’re working out. (It doesn’t help that the last time I came to pick him up I found him playing with a file drawer and grabbing a stapler. The staff, at least the times we’ve been so far, seem apathetic and it’s starting to piss me off.) He started screaming the minute we pulled into the packed parking lot, just moments after I realized I forgot my headphones. Enough. It was enough to just say eff it. I got a coffee at a nearby drive through and headed to the bounce house. It was, of course, storming and pouring the whole time. Once there, 5 minutes of happy followed by incessant request for “nacks”, followed by inevitable meltdown.

Finally home, I fed the kid, what else, some form of eggs with cheese and veggies. While getting him ready for his nap, I made the strangest, most mind boggling discovery. I took his shoe off and noticed his sock was wet. The other one was, too, but just a tiny bit. Hmm… I thought it was probably the rain, although I figured it was weird that he didn’t seem to get wet anywhere else while we were out. I smelled the sock (like a reflex, I now smell all fluids since becoming a parent). It was soaked in PISS. The diaper? Dry. The shorts? Dry. The right shoe? Most definitely smelled like piss, too.

My dog peed on my kid.

::hands thrown in the air::

I’m done. I need a vacation. I need to go somewhere far, far away from diapers and dog piss. I want to go somewhere where the only fluid I’m smelling is wine.

Yesterday I planned to blog all about my many ideas for a vacation and ask for your opinions. Unfortunately, I just spent all my blogging time breaking down over pee.

I’ll try to get it together for the vacation post tomorrow.

Kendall is 22 months old, and I love him, I really, really, really do. More than anything. And I’m so grateful that he’s healthy and that he’s so amazing.  And I hate that I want I break, that I even think about wanting a break. I hate it.

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The StoryToddlers

My little caveman

by Jill
written by Jill

Kendall likes to hit himself… in the face, and sometimes he follows that up by bashing his head against the wall, doors, floor, etc.  I especially love how after he freaks the fuck out on himself he looks at me, as if to say, “See what YOU made me dooooo!!” Yes, it is totally my fault that you just slammed your head into the pantry door when I wouldn’t give you that second helping of Goldfish. Totally.

At first glance it seems this is all brought on by a fit of uncontrollable rage that takes over his body and mind, leaving him no choice but to abuse himself and to run into walls on purpose, but upon deeper investigation I have found that this is all very calculated, and there is indeed a method to his madness. Exhibit A being the careful manner in which he looks over one shoulder while sitting on the ground in the process of throwing his head back mid tantrum. See, the boy is smart and still has his wits about him. He’s checking to make sure he’s not going to end up smacking his head atop a toy truck or the corner of a wall. Then he lowers his head, but does it in such a dramatic way that you think you are watching the whole episode in slow motion, you know, sort of like The Matrix.

I mentioned how at his 18 month checkup he smashed his head into a giant mirror on the wall in front of the nurse. It was exactly like when that chick in Disturbing Behavior (bad late 90s movie with Katie Holmes, long before she was ever part of TomKat) smashes her head in the mirror, with the same intent and intensity. I was actually really worried he might have cracked the mirror. Then I followed it up by asking the nurse (who was SHOCKED and let her mouth hang open maybe a little too long) if that was “normal”. She didn’t answer, but instead just raised her eyebrows and typed something on her laptop. Great.

Good news is the pediatrician said it was normal. I mean, I guess that’s good news. She basically told me what my mom’s been telling me for a while, that he is doing it out of frustration and as a way of trying to communicate because he can’t find the words to tell me what he wants (she also told me the pea sized lump under his skin on his forehead is most likely scar tissue from the repeated beatings he’s taken to that particular area).

I think that’s sort of crap considering 1. I speak his super secret language of 30 words that mostly sound a lot like “ass” pretty well. My husband looks to me to translate all the time.

“Ahoose” = juice
“AsssAh” = outside
“Ahhhhs” = bath
“Ahhwah” = Dora
“blahlablah” = Elmo
“Oof”= earth (which is really the moon, but we can’t seem to explain to him that we are standing on earth, not looking at it in the sky… the solar system mural in his room is really screwing with his perception of reality)
“foof” = fruit
“BALL!” = Football!! Give it to me now!! Let’s run! Now chase me!!! TOUCHDOWN!

And 2. I don’t speak slap, nor have I ever let on that I do. Really, where in evolution did young humans learn the super cool ability to hit themselves as a form of communication? Not effective anymore.

So anytime I see him start to hit himself I make it a point to get down on his level, look him in the eyes and calmly ask him to “use his words” or point and show me what he wants. He smiles, asks for me to pick him up, then does something like pointing to the Goldfish and saying, “naanaaNACK!” I reply, “Okay, I know you want more Goldfish, but you are going to have to wait until after lunch, which I’m making right now.” Then, as if I have awakened the beast, I see it all play out again. He turns red, stiffens up, yells, “AhhhhhhhHHHHHHH!!” He looks at me, as if to say, “But I used my FREAKING WORDS and POINTED! And I want Goldfish NOW!!” Then smashes his head into the pantry door, and I do the only thing I know to do… I walk away and try not to let him see me laugh.

Kendall is 18 months old and the pediatrician says that scar tissue may go away in a few years, but I’m not convinced

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Stuff

Back to the Future

by Jill
written by Jill

A couple weeks ago my friend Barb (one of the founders and owners of Metroplex Baby and Kids) called me with a proposition. She was helping a local news producer find someone to give up the internet, entirely, for a week, and she thought I’d be “perfect” for it.  I had to laugh a little. How bad am I that people think I’d be the perfect case study for what happens when you give up internet for a week?

I was a little nervous about it, but figured it might be good for me.  I was feeling stressed and over-extended when she called me with the idea, and thought stepping away from the internet and email for a week might help me focus a little.  The call actually came when I was in hotel hell with Kendall, and I told myself that I would use this week to really focus on how to tame this wild toddler of mine.

I had a long list of tasks I planned to accomplish during my week of no internet, and I wondered just how anxious and lost I’d feel without being able to check in, google and connect with my friends. I planned to read lots of books on toddler behavior, and hoped my studies would pay off with some new tricks up my sleeve that would help me calm the beast that had taken over Kendall.

However, the week really didn’t go how I had envisioned. It was better. Admittedly, I didn’t accomplish too much more that I normally do during the week (leaving me wondering if I’m just a super awesome multitasker or lazier than I’d like to admit). I didn’t read any books on toddler behavior, but I did watch a lot of Super Nanny. I actually watched more television than usual (but no news, I really wasn’t in the mood to get caught up in the news this week), I read more, I enjoyed my coffee more. In general, I just slowed down.

I felt my stress and anxiety levels decrease throughout the week, I went to bed by 10:30 most nights and I slept like a rock. At the end of the week I also felt physically more relaxed. My shoulders weren’t painfully knotted, my back didn’t hurt, I felt more rested, and most importantly, I felt more relaxed and calm.

A recurring lesson I saw play out in all the Super Nanny episodes is that kids really pick up on your stress and anxiety level, and wouldn’t you know, Kendall seemed a lot more calm by the end of the week, too. We had far fewer tantrums than the week before (although some of that may be attributed to being home and not living out of a hotel), and I wasn’t so quick to get frustrated when the lines of communication weren’t working.  Turns out I didn’t need to read a bunch of books. I just needed to slow down and listen. I needed to listen to him, and I needed to listen to me. I needed to get back in touch with my mommy instinct.

It turned out to be a great experience and something I’m really glad I did. Sure, I have a ton to catch up on now, but nothing so pressing that I can’t step away. I think that’s the most important lesson I learned.  Sometimes I get so caught up in researching and planning, with the best intentions to be the best mom I can be, that I think it gets in the way of me just being… just living… just listening.

Now, I can’t live without the internet forever. I’m just hoping to phase it back into my life in a more balanced way. Still not quite sure how to do that, but I’m hoping if I just be still and listen, I’ll figure it out.

I can’t really share too many more details about the project I was helping out with just yet, but I’ll let you guys know when I can. All I can say is I’m so glad Barb and Metroplex Baby and Kids thought of me for this experiment. It was wonderful to team up with them.

For those of you in the Dallas/Fort Worth area, make sure you check out MetroplexBaby.com. I love going to their events when I can (especially Best and Hottest!), and they always have the latest “Scoop” on what’s happening in the area. Also, head over to my Facebook Fan Page to enter to win tickets to an MBK event this weekend. I’ll be giving away three sets today (November 3rd).

Kendall is 18 months and one day old (holy crap, that is crazy)

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The StoryToddlers

I knew this was coming

by Jill
written by Jill

The Terrorist Terrible Twos are here. Kendall is a full blown toddler who spends his days screaming, whining, screeching, flailing, biting and hitting (the biting and hitting have only been inflicted on me, so far). I’d seen shades of this before we left for DC last week, but it matured and bloomed, transforming my sweet child into a frustrated animal, the moment we arrived at the hotel.

I thought, perhaps, his behavior was so… animalistic because he was frustrated with our situation, he was annoyed with being in the hotel, or he was thrown off by the slight time change and disruption to his daily routine. I wondered if maybe I was just feeling his actions were so intense because we seemed to be under a microscope while traveling, afraid of burdening others with my loud and frustrated child.  Whatever the reason, the catalyst for this sudden development, it was pretty awful to adjust to and deal with in the confines of a hotel and a town center that caters to business professionals.

It seemed there was no appropriate place to escape. He didn’t want to be in the room, nor did I, but he refused to listen to me when I took him outside, insisting on running into streets and parking lots and toward water features in 55 degree weather.  He was minimally content in his stroller if I was pushing him around outside, but the moment I stepped into a store he began screeching, squealing and screaming, writhing in his stroller and pounding his legs.

We tried eating out a time or two, but were so embarrassed by his behavior, we felt like we had to shovel food in our mouths to get out of there before he combusted. We spent the rest of the week ordering take out. We tried to get together with a friend and her son, same age, and he showed off his super awesome new attitude by slapping me on the face in front of them. No idea where the hell he even got the idea to slap someone on the face. I assure you that’s not something he’s seen around here.

Wednesday night I took a much needed mommy timeout and left Scott and Kendall in the hotel room with takeout so I could escape for a couple hours, but that only did so much. By Friday I was a wreck. The whole week left me beaten down and lacking confidence. I had completely lost control of my son, and it felt like everything I did to redirect, distract and correct him only made the situation worse. I tried timeouts, I tried the caveman speak (toddlerease), I tried affirming his feelings, I tried not to lose my mind, I tried not to scream at him, I tried not to say NO every other minute of the day. Mostly, I tried not to cry.

We’ve been home for two days now, and the behavior hasn’t gone away. The only thing that has changed is my willingness to ignore his screams in the comfort of my home that doesn’t share a wall with anyone.  He bit me yesterday, and tried to do it again today. The first words out of my mouth, before I could even censor what I would say, were “If you bite me, I will rip your brains out.” W.T.F? It was such a gut reaction.

I found out about the Love and Logic approach today and am really intrigued. Something tells me this approach would discourage empty threats of removing vital organs as a form of discipline. There is a seminar down our way in a few months, which I wish was tomorrow, but in the meantime I will try to get my hands on the book.

In fact, I’m hoping to do a lot of research and work this week on how to get through this stage. I won’t be able to do it on the internet, though. I’ll have to go back to the good old days of researching stuff in a library or the book store, or just spending time on the phone with women who know their stuff.

Starting tomorrow, I’m taking part in a little social experiment where I will give up the internet for 5-7 days (except for the work I need to do to finish fundraising for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society).  I can’t say much more about it, but will be sure to blog all the details when I’m allowed back into the World Wide Web.  I’m actually really looking forward to this. Sometimes I wonder how much my connection to my computer and the people on the other side of it has affected my connection to the people I see, face to face, every day.  Sometimes I wonder how much of an effect it has on me as a parent.

Here’s hoping, if anything, this week will at least help me figure out a more appropriate thing to say to my son as he comes at me, mouth wide open, flashing his canines.

Kendall is one week shy of 18 months old

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ParenthoodStuffThe StoryToddlers

“Those Parents” take 2

by Jill
written by Jill

Thank you to the passenger on the Enterprise bus who smiled warmly at my tantruming toddler and handed him a sticker with a train on it.

Thank you to the Enterprise bus driver who was so kind and helpful with our bags and stroller and who, after we began to profusely apologize for forgetting to replenish the cash in our wallets for tipping, stopped us mid apology and insisted that we not worry about it, then pointed out the free SmarteCarte next to the curb to use in the airport.

Thank you to all the people in the security line who gave us knowing “we’ve so been there” looks and who were so incredibly patient as we loaded our 10 million plastic bins onto the security belt.

Thank you to the girls behind us in line who played peek a boo with my flirting son long enough for me to get both of our shoes off.

Thank you to the man at the table next to us in Chipotle who acknowledged how good Kendall was being at dinner. And, when Kendall began screeching moments later just to prove this man wrong, he simply smiled and said he “understood”.

Thank you to the wonderfully kind and helpful American Airlines gate agent who not only hooked us up with an extra seat, but also took our carseat, which we had intended to gate check, and installed it in a window seat for us before we even boarded.

Thank you to the man seated in the row in front of us who greeted us with a smile and turned to talk to Kendall. He was so understanding, even when Kendall, desperate to fight off sleep, slammed his feet into the back of his chair and screamed minutes before finally drifting off.

Our flight earlier this week was pretty nightmarish, but the flight home was so much better. Partly, I think it was because of the timing. We were scheduled to fly out at 7 p.m. but were delayed and didn’t leave until 8:30, well past Kendall’s bedtime.  It wasn’t a full flight, allowing us the luxury of an extra seat for Kendall, which also made a big difference. But, I really think one of the best things about our flight home, from beginning to end, was the people we encountered. It was such a 180 from our flight at the beginning of the week.

Granted, we are still hoping they locate one of our bags, which seems to have been the victim of mistaken identity at baggage claim before we could get there, and the stroller we gate checked at Dulles didn’t make it on the plane, but luggage was the least of my worries. Kendall slept 90% of the flight and the whole experience was about 90% less stressful.

Kendall is quickly approaching 18 months old

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The StoryToddlers

A little insight on “those parents”

by Jill
written by Jill

You know, *those* parents? The ones with the kid on the plane that everyone is annoyed by? Yeah… that would be us last Sunday. It was absolutely us.

Scott has some business to take care of this week back in our old stomping grounds, so we took off on a 2.5 hour flight to DC from Dallas at 8:30 in the morning. I’m not even going to go into detail about how hellacious it was to actually get there, or tell you more than we got there just in time, but our baggage was delayed by a couple hours. No biggie, if that had been the worst of it, I would have been fine. But, of course, it wasn’t.

Unlike my last flight with Kendall, this one was actually terrible. Granted, it was longer, and he’s stronger, but it also seemed like a much more hostile, tense environment. Very judgy. I was edgy from the moment we walked on after we were greeted by a chorus of sighs and groans and eye rolls when they saw my HAPPY child come aboard. We didn’t opt to buy the extra seat for him because, well, we’re cheap like that (even though I did struggle with the safety issue of it). And, honestly, I think the only person who would have benefited from the extra seat would have been Scott because it just would have meant that his lap would have been freed up, not that the noise Kendall was making would have stopped. In fact, had we brought his car seat on board for that extra seat and strapped him in, I’m pretty sure it would have been worse.

Here’s the thing, though, it’s not like Kendall screamed and cried the entire flight. Not at all. Sure, there were a few moments of frustration that came to a boiling point, followed by brief outbursts, but this was certainly not how he behaved even 20% of the flight. I knew it was going to be a long ride when, after only 10 minutes, the frat boy in front of us started huffing and puffing and audibly rolling his eyes every time Kendall would say, “Uh Oh!” and laugh. Sure, he was loud. My kid does not have volume control… or at least I’ve yet to find it, but he wasn’t screaming in this guys ear either. I finally leaned forward and said, “Yeah.. we get it… Uh huh… we gotcha… you’re annoyed.. point made.” He looked shocked that I would even say anything, turned around and said, “Well… it’s not that… it’s just… he keeps waking me up!” To which I replied, “We are doing our very best to keep him quiet,” and not another word or glance was exchanged between us from that point on.  It was going to be too long of a flight to put up with his passive aggressive bull shit, so I’m glad I said something early on. And we were trying very hard.

We had a bag of tricks. It was full of all sorts of new toys and books and snacks galore. Each time Kendall got loud about something, we did our best to distract him. I’d say this worked pretty well for the first hour and a half. Well, what worked the best was the snacks. We just kept feeding him, which of course made the judgy woman to my left give me all sorts of snide looks. Yeah, that’s right. I’m stuffing my kids face to keep him quiet. Judge me. I even gave him two lollipops while on board. Sure, you think I’m that parent that over indulges my child and gives in to his every whim. How wrong you are. The thing is, *I’m* fine with hearing him scream and whine. *I* listen to it ALL DAY LONG. I have no problem telling him NO, but something tells me *now* is not the time to discipline a toddler.

It was exhausting, literally. We busted our asses to keep him entertained and as quiet as possible. And you know what? I am proud of him. I am SO proud of him for the way he behaved. My nearly 18 month old, who is used to tearing around my house and Gymboree and the park from 8:30 to 11 every day, sat on his father’s lap and didn’t even have an all out tantrum.  And if he had, I would totally understand. That’s what was killing me. All these people and their sighs and their eye rolls, they had no idea how GOOD he was being.  And since when does a Sunday morning flight = right to complete silence? It is unreasonable to expect a toddler to be silent or even quiet for two hours, and it’s unreasonable to expect that you will be on a plane with no toddlers.

So, yeah, I guess we were “those parents”, but I really don’t know how we could have avoided it, short of tranquilizing him, which, TRUST ME, the thought crossed my mind many times. We are already dreading the flight back home, and wondering what on earth we can do to make it easier on all of us.

Kendall is 17 and a half months old

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