I’m having a tough time finding something to complain about concerning my kids. They act … Yes, I must say it, pretty normal. This last week and a half has been a charm. No tantrums, they listen after the 4th time asking, me not frantically having to look up if certain behavior is normal for kids their age and they act generally well behaved.
Almost like they aren’t raised by a pack of wolves. Which they aren’t although they drive me rabid on occasions.
My youngest had a challenging time finding or listening to reason when she didn’t get something she wanted. That is one stubborn kid (and unfortunately, she has it from her mother). My oldest is more reasonable, listened why not and try to bargain and sometimes she got her way. That’s smart. But with the youngest, I put my foot to the ground because “she isn’t going to get it this way!” And you can’t give her a finger or she’ll take you, your mother/father and their pet dog.
And yesterday after a bedtime story I talked to both a bit, kissed them goodnight. My oldest daughter complimenting me on my looks (I love you mom, you have beautiful eyes, you have nice dresses and you look good naked (!)(?)) Ok weirdo. I love you too my beautiful daughter. Then I went in to the youngest her room. She always pulls me in a few times, after I gave 20 hugs and kisses and closed the door. I don’t want to give in but she cries and won’t stop and then her sister can’t fall asleep and so on and so on. So, I was able talk to her and she understood and I just got to leave! Can you believe it?
That night I hear a cry coming from her bedroom. A cry in pure horror. Arrived bewildered. The problem? There was a spider in her room. And ok, it sat 1 m from her. But at that moment, I think I looked more frightening than that little spider but I removed it and had to lay down with her because she was too traumatized. Geez, it was only a daddy long legs. But ok. I kept guard. Needless to say, I couldn’t sleep in that small bed with a sweaty kid beside me.
This morning my oldest sees me “mom why are your eyes closed and you have bleu cheeks under them!” blue cheeks are bags, blue bags. So, I guess my eyes aren’t my best feature today.
Working on one self isn’t easy. There is so much to do, so much work and it is advancement with babysteps.
It’s like doing the household, you clean and dust but if you don’t keep it up, it catches up to you.
The hardest work so far is, yep still, being a mom. The parenting thing.
Trying to be a ‘good mom’. Being just and fair, yet staying human and not a police officer. But that’s the way I often feel. I don’t have to be friends with them in a let-them-walk-over-me kind of way, far from that.
But I often find myself hating on me because I can’t seem to stop naggin’, warning, lecturing, bribing, critisizing and so many other irritable and non-productive ways to make this thing called ‘a family’ a smooth sailing. Which it isn’t. It’s hard work.
I somethimes forget they are kids, I somethimes would love them to act more “grown up” (yet I don’t know much grown ups who act “grown up” either) and on the other hand I want them to enjoy their childhood as much and as long as possible. I also feel I zone out too much when it’s overwelming. Always been a reader, even the back of a cereal box when nothing else came in handy. Those were the ’80s. Now I have a cell phone which I semi-blame for my zone out addiction. And the stuff I read is hardly even as interesting as the back of the ol’ cereal box.
Why do I do it? It’s like, they come home and start clattering non stop, loudly and nobody listens to anybody and I feel my head is going to explode, so I zone out. I love their energy but It comes in as nervousness and I need to get out of that or I’ll get nervous. It really gets under my skin. I really wonder how you get a kid to do Yoga (without sedation).
My kids know this. But they stay kids, meaning they too, as every other human being, thinks about his/her needs first.
And one of their needs is to ‘express’ themselves, loudly. I know I’m going to miss this when they grow up and become unmotivated teenagers who don’t want to share about their day.
So I’m still working very hard on that, I really need to let go more. You know those funny pictures on the net of guilty pets? Those ones yes
I should think that way about my kids too. Imagine them with a sign that says “I spilled orange juice on the neatly mopped floor. Twice. Today. This morning. And used my foot to try to ‘clean’ it” or “I hate whatever my mom is making, but I love my to eat nails/fingers/hair and boogers”
“I hate breakfeast and am not shy to show it” and the other one standing by her “I have that feeling about dinner!”
I have to learn to take the humorous approach. And turn of the cell phone in the afternoon and evening.
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