Fighting Back

02 Jun 2011 4 Comments

by Natalie in Parenting Battles Tags: , , , ,

Author’s note: I wrote this post about a month ago. Normally my oldest is really well behaved, but every once in a while we get to see his crazy, wild, freaking out side.

I failed big time as a mother today. I spanked my oldest son and put him in time out. I lost my temper and yelled at him harder and louder than I have in a long, long time – All because I refused to let him wear a hideously mismatched outfit to preschool.

If he wants to look like a fool within the comfort of our home that’s fine, but I won’t let him look like a maniac in public.

I know what a lot of you are thinking, “What harm is there in him wearing crazy clothes?” The truth? There isn’t any. His wardrobe selection was not the problem. The underlying issue was his reaction to me telling him “NO.” When he acts like a raging bull because he doesn’t get his way … that’s when I have a problem.

If he would have asked in a kind, calm tone with a cheesy, toothy grin, I probably would have let him wear his ugly bear camouflage shirt with his bright green pants. But his rotten resistance and poisonous attitude set me off.

He grunts and whines and screams if he doesn’t get his way. He pouts and growls and charges. Recently he has resorted to hitting, kicking and even biting me in an effort to get what he wants.

That behavior is unacceptable in my opinion and I’m not going to take it anymore. I’ve got to find a successful way to show him that he can’t act like that.

It’s going to be a battle — not only with him but with myself.  Normally I feel guilty for punishing him. I hear him crying from his bedroom and want to console him. I want to cuddle to him and tell him everything is going to be all right. Everything will be all right, but he isn’t going to get everything he wants — especially if he tries to hurt me. I can’t feel guilty for establishing some boundaries.

I am going to have to buck up and show him some tough love. As I told him today, “He is not the boss around here, I am.” I said that coupled with the disclaimer that I am never going to ask him to do something that will harm him, scare him or make him nervous.

I plan to set him on his bed in time-out as many times as it takes in order for him to realize that he can’t flip out like a crazy man. No matter how much he cries from his bedroom, I can’t cave in anymore to his tantrums. Wish me luck and let’s hope I can keep my temper in check.

Sleep, Why Do You Hate Me?

17 Mar 2011 4 Comments

by Natalie in Parenting Battles Tags: , ,

Whoever said we should “sleep like a baby” has never experienced a night with my two-year-old son. He has been a restless sleeper since the day he was born. If we all slept like him the world would be filled with walking zombies.

For the past week my son has woken up hollering three or four times a night. The first night I thought it was a horrible fluke. After night six I realized that he had developed a terrible habit that doesn’t make me, or my husband, very happy.

Normally he’ll just shout out in his sleep or bump into the wall and make a lot of ruckus that occasionally wakes me up.  But lately he has been waking all the way up crying for me to lie by him. It not only makes me frustrated, but it tears at my heartstrings. I’d love to cuddle to him and lay by him every night. But I know if I do that any hope that I have of him ever getting used to sleeping quietly on his own will be dashed. Also, he’d beat me up all night kicking and punching me while sleeping and I’d lose all chance of getting any rest myself.

The major problem is this: I am more emotional when I am tired. I am more scatter-brained when I am tired. And I am definitely more stressed out when I am tired. That is a triple combination no one wants to see exhibited in my character.

It’s not like this is our first sleeping battle with the little guy. He spent less time than anticipated in my bedside baby bassinet because he’d wake me up every 30 minutes with his moaning and groaning.  I had to banish him to the other room so that I could try to get a little rest. Luckily his older brother is a deep sleeper.

The kid talks in his sleep. He even sings in his sleep.  And worst of all he thrashes around in his sleep like a caged animal trying to break free. Sometimes I’ll wake up at night because I hear a thumping or rustling sound. I am sure an invader has busted through my kitchen door and is heading straight for my room to attack me. Then I listen closer and realize it’s just my 2-year-old wrestling in his covers.

One of the most annoying things about his sleepless nights is that although his tossing and turning keeps him, my husband and me up all night, he is the only one who gets to sleep in. My alarm still rings at 6 a.m. while he wanders out of his bedroom after 8 a.m. He also catches up on his missing Z’s during his daily two-hour afternoon nap.  Unfortunately my adult schedule doesn’t permit such a siesta.

On days filled with yawns and sleep-deprived irritations, I have to remind myself that I would rather wake up four times each night for his entire life than not have the opportunity to raise him at all. If that’s how it’s going to be I’ll accept it. It’s just hard to think rationally like that when I’m too tired to see straight.

Potty Mouths

03 Mar 2011 8 Comments

by Natalie in Parenting Battles Tags: , ,

Thank you Wall-E for showing my two young boys how funny it is to wear a bra on your forehead. I had to chase them down this morning and snatch away one of my most intimate clothing articles before I could get dressed.

Actually, they probably didn’t need a Disney movie to show them that was funny. They’ve been living in a world where farts, poop, burps, underwear, butts, butt cracks and other potty talk is hilarious, for awhile now. There isn’t a week that goes by that I don’t hear a poopy knock-knock joke or see one of their “moons.”

The problem with it is I am supposed to be a mature, respectful adult, yet sometimes I can’t help but bust up laughing at their potty language – especially when my 2-year-old screams something like “poop” during a reverent church meeting. It catches me off guard and I can’t help but chuckle.

Don’t get me wrong, I refuse to let them burp or fart without saying, “excuse me.” I actually hate those bodily functions. But there are times when they say something very random that makes me giggle.

The bad part about laughing when they are crude is then they think I like when they talk that way. So they do it more. It’s funny once. It’s not funny time after time -especially when it goes on for five minutes. That’s when I get mad and then they look at me like, “I thought you laughed at this kind of stuff.”

I don’t know the solution. I figure boys will be boys. They’re going to run around in their birthday suits when I’m trying to dress them screaming, “I’m naked.” They’re going to tell “hilarious” stories about ghosts who fart and burp. They are going to draw elaborate penciled sketches of the “poop monster.” That stuff is seriously funny to them.

I need to find a gentle way to teach them manners and what is appropriate without stifling their humorous creative minds. When I figure out how to do that I’ll let you know.

For now I’m going to look on the bright side, at least we don’t use cuss words at our house. There are lot of worse things that could be spouting from out of their potty mouths.

Coating My Son

24 Feb 2011 9 Comments

by Natalie in Parenting Battles Tags: ,

I’m convinced my 2-year-old is part reptile. That’s the only logical explanation. The little dude is never cold so he’s got to be adapting to his environment like a cold-blooded crocodile.

I don’t know how many times I have fought him this winter to put a coat on. Normally he’ll flop around on the living room floor like an oversized fish out of water while I yell at him and chase him around with his coat in my hands. He’ll scream, cry and arch his back so it’s virtually impossible to put his coat on.

He usually walks to the van in tears because I pinned him down and made him put it on. What am I supposed to do, let him freeze? I was particularly firm about his coat-wearing habits in December when he had a cold. I wasn’t about to let him make it worse just because he was being stubborn.

But sometimes my willpower is low and I have to admit that I have let him go to the grocery store, church or even out to eat coatless. You should see the looks I get from strangers as he shivers his way inside.  I know what they are thinking, “Buy that kid a coat for heaven’s sake!” I’m surprised no one has taken pity on us and slipped me a $20 as coat-investment money. Little do they know about the battle we undergo each time we leave the house.

Seriously, the child has a very nice winter coat and at least a dozen jackets he refuses to wear.

But winter weather attire isn’t the only warm protection my 2-year-old shuns. He’s been boycotting blankets and covers his entire life. He refuses to sleep with anything but pajamas covering his tiny body. Sometimes I try to cover him with blankets when I kiss him good night while he is sleeping. Then, only minutes later, I hear him thrashing through the sheets as he rolls out from under their imprisonment.

He must be a lot warmer than I am.

I know it is my obligation as a good parent to keep him safe and healthy, but how much do I infringe upon his freedom to insist that he does what I want?  I usually make him wear a coat, but I’m not about to straight jacket him into bed at night because I think he’s probably cold. Maybe he’s not.

Things are actually getting better as far as coat wearing goes. I recently convinced him, now that winter is almost over, that his basic tan coat is actually a hunting/army combination jacket. It has a large ranger badge on its side sleeve that helps validate my story. Sometimes now when I tell him we need to get our coats on he’ll scream, “I want my badge one!”

Now I know he’s not wearing it for the right reasons. He doesn’t care that it’s keeping him warm. He’s wearing it because the kid loves to dress up. He thinks he’s in costume and I’m okay with that.

We have a lot less fights than we used to. And that might lead to fewer glares from concerned, yet clueless, strangers about the welfare of my children.

Luckily, it’s almost spring.

Mealtime Madness

03 Feb 2011 1 Comment

by Natalie in Parenting Battles Tags: ,

The 2-year-old has been strapped tightly into his booster seat. The 4-year-old volunteers to say a short blessing. The food is dished up and placed onto the table.

Then all heck breaks lose and we are smack dab in the middle of another dinnertime debacle.

Right now mealtime is my least favorite time of day. I hate it. I loathe it. I detest it. It ranks right up there with bath time, bedtime and grocery shopping time. Yet it seems 10 times worse because I have to suffer through it multiple times each day.

At mealtime my inner she bear is unleashed. I grunt and growl and scream at my kids to eat — to no avail. But there is only a certain amount a young, nervous mother can handle.

For example, I honestly don’t know how hard it is to remain sitting during a meal. I mean sitting down on your two round cheeks. For some reason it is nearly impossible for my oldest. I don’t know how many times I tell him to sit down and turn around while eating.

Then there is the chipmunk-cheek approach my 2-year-old uses. He hoards food in his mouth like he’s storing it for winter. I’m not talking about pea-sized portions either. There have been times I’ve scraped finger scoops full of food out after meals.

Now I am sure that some of my children’s poor eating habits derive from my own mealtime ADD.  As a busy mother I often sit down to eat, then pop back up to grab someone a drink, a utensil, a napkin, whatever. They have learned from my bad example, yet they are the source of most of my mealtime ADD.

I got so stressed out last year when feeding my children that I took a they’ll-eat-when-they-are-hungry approach for a while. That backfired big time when I took my 2-year-old to the doctor and got chastised because he had lost weight. I literally think my two boys would happily starve to death if I let them.

Yet I refuse to cater to their picky bird-sized appetites and therefore remain in a mealtime conflict. I keep hoping their massive teenage appetites will kick in early and they will start eating me out of house and home. Until then, I guess I will just have to arm myself for battle by making lots of Jell-o jiggler and macaroni and cheese side dishes. Side dishes to accompany the “gross” main courses they won’t touch.

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