Angry Mommy

Today I am angry. Today I am irrationally angry with my children. Today is not my finest hour by far but I need to keep it real and be honest. Today I was irritated and annoyed before I even finished my coffee. 5 year old spent the night going between sleeping like a rock and tossing and turning and moaning and whining. She never woke up enough to call for either myself or my husband so I knew better than to go into her room. History has shown that when I go into her thinking I will be the comforting mommy I end up setting off a meltdown that nothing but time and patience can undo. So I had a restless night, and so did 5 year old. 

When she woke, straight away there were tears. Her leg hurt. There was drama, and limping, and more whining and moaning. My best guess is that she tweaked something when she slipped and fell the day before walking around the house in plastic princess shoes. I got ibuprofen into her and convinced her to try to walk normally to work out the kinks but my patience was already wearing thin as she continued to limp around the house looking pained, and sitting down looking forlorn instead of getting ready for school as I asked.

**I digress a moment to say that I am not a completely heartless monster. The spot that hurt appeared to be muscular in nature not bone or joint related so there isn't much to do but try some pain meds and walk it off. Anywho...

Just when she seemed to be getting over the leg pain ordeal the tears started flowing again, this time she complained of belly pain. This made me pause because she is getting over a stomach bug and she had just chowed a bowl of cereal but I suggested she go to the bathroom and after some more whining and moaning on the potty, surprise surprise, that seemed to remedy the situation. The final straw, though, was the near meltdown that ensued because her butt itched. And after using a wet wipe it still itched which was clearly not acceptable.  Let me pause again to say that between all of these tearful moments there was a lot of pausing to sit and whimper and snuggle with her lovey (the only one who truly understands her apparently) while 2 year old tried to interject herself into every situation or get into things she wasn't supposed to or scream "mine!" while grabbing at things that clearly weren't hers. 

My nerves were fried. And it wasn't even 8am.

I told 5 year old to scratch her butt if it itched. I asked her if she wanted to stay home because of an itchy butt and a sore leg. I sat down with her and told her that I understood wanting to feel well again and being tired of being sick. I told her that I could only help her so much, daddy could only help her so much, she had to be a strong and brave girl and want to get well. I let her curl into my arms and howl and wail and let it all out. I wanted to do that myself. I wanted a response from her when I tried to be understanding and sympathetic but when all she could do was whine and whimper and not use her words I felt my patience slipping away. I felt the urge to yell, "Stop! Just stop!" But I didn't because how is that fair to a 5 year old who has been sick on and off for the past month. I begged her to take some deep breaths and to please stop crying. I held back my own tears as I took a few breaths of my own. I rushed them both into coats and hats, forgoing mine, so I could get them out the door just in time to get 5 year old on the school bus that kindly waited for us. Then I came back inside, feeling half guilty and half relieved, that 5 year old was now her teacher's problem only to find my patience being worn even thinner by a 2 year old who wants it her way and wants it now. 

So, yes, today I am angry. I am irrationally angry at my children. But I am more angry at myself. Because I did not handle myself the way I should have. I did not act the way mommy is supposed to act. I did not have as much patience and compassion and sympathy as I wanted to. I sucked at mom-ing today. But there's nothing I can do to change this morning. Instead I will hug 5 year old tightly when she gets home tonight. I will snuggle with her on the couch for a few extra minutes before bed. I will be silly and sing songs and let them listen to their favorite Spotify playlist and dance along with them. I will be a better mommy.

A Plague on Your House!

March has been absolutely horrendous around here. Forget about lambs and lions, the whole month was a fucking bear. Between my two daughters and myself, we visited the doctor eight times. EIGHT. First for my toddler who had a lingering fever. That turned out to be a nasty upper respiratory virus. But the following week my 5 year old was in for what turned out to be strep throat. Shortly after that the toddler was back in for an injured foot that she refused to walk on. That also turned out to be nothing much, probably a bruise, although as the doctor said, "We really don't know how many kids go around with broken bones that go undiagnosed." According to him, it's hard to determine what hurts, how severe it is, and they heal really darn fast. That ended her visits for the month (other than to tag along to all her sister's appointments) but my poor 5 year old was in right after finishing up her antibiotics for strep because her persistent cough that was keeping her up, then again about a week later for a fever that wouldn't leave for which she got another round of antibiotics and then two more subsequent visits to recheck her ears and lungs. I finished out the month with a trip to urgent care on Saturday morning because I was running a fever, had a nasty cough, and basically felt like death. Now her antibiotics end tomorrow and mine end next week but we have one more recheck on Thursday but the school nurse called today to say that she was complaining of her ears hurting and when the nurse checked them they looked red so I should mention that at her recheck but I also noticed that her nose has been running more the past day or so and her cough is still present and let's not forget that she's still taking fucking antibiotics!

I honestly have no idea what is going on in this house. I expect a fair amount of illness during cold and flu season because the elementary school and daycare are giant germ factories (inhabited by little germ factories) but, be it the Ides of March or a plague, I don't need all this Shakespearean drama up in here. This is seems like a saga to be continued and I won't be surprised if an ear, nose, and throat doctor is in our future but here's to hoping that Spring comes bursting in and washes away every last bit of illness.

Tantrum Hell: A Lesson in Parenting

My children have recently decided to gang up on me and my husband and go through a "phase" together. My toddler has entered the "Terrible Twos" and is showing the other 2 year olds how it's done. I'm pretty sure she heard some mom, somewhere, say "My 2 year old had the worst tantrum ever" and she thought, "Hold my sippy". She spends most of her days looking like a hot, snotty mess because she spends so much time crying and screaming and I can't keep up with the nose wiping.

My 5 year old has found her sassy pants and refuses to take them off. 60% of her conversations with us contains some kind of attitude, she's making talking back an art form, and when all else fails she reverts to her tantrums of younger days making nothing but unintelligible sounds, refusing to do anything she is told, and finally freaking the fuck out. 

My husband and I deal with these tantrums very differently. The toddler tantrums we handle somewhat the same because there isn't much to do except keep saying "No, you can't watch Baby Shark again" and riding out the hysterics. With the 5 year old's displays of attitude and epic meltdowns we handle with our own unique philosophies. My husband is a yeller. I always thought I would be the yeller because I have a short temper. But apparently, when it comes to kids pushing our buttons, he does too. This is not to say that I don't yell. Sometimes I yell to be heard over the screaming and crying of my children. Sometimes I yell out of pure exasperation but I'm not actually yelling at my kids. And, yes, sometimes I have straight up yelled at my kids. But my husband, my husband yells at the kids (well, mostly at the 5 year old). He yells in her face. He is quick to yell when I don't think it's necessary to be at the point of yelling yet. I try to remember that, even though she is a smart, precocious little girl, she is still only 5. I try to get down to her level and talk things through with her. I try to get her to open up to me (it doesn't always happen and, truth be told, when it doesn't I get hella frustrated and annoyed). 

As it turns out, we have very different parenting styles. When I was pregnant with our now 5 year old, we had discussions about how we would parent. How we would handle certain situations. We talked about being on the same page. Would we spank them? Use times outs? I thought we had hashed out our parenting philosophy pretty clearly but as we move forward in what we like to call this "full human experience" I'm realizing that maybe we didn't do such a great job at getting on the same page. Or maybe it's just not possible to parent exactly the same as your partner. I did a fair amount of reading about parenting. I still read articles posted by friends on social media, or things sent home from daycare, school, or the pediatrician. I go to the parenting meetings at the daycare center. I tag my husband in some of the articles, I try to deliver the overall message of the meetings and articles to him without sound preachy.

But there really is no way around it. We parent our own ways. We are united in our message and in our goals as parents but we are two different people and that manifests as two different parenting styles. My husband often refers to our tag team efforts as "Good Cop/Bad Cop". Somehow, in our B.C. life (that would be Before Children) I assumed I would play the role of Bad Cop. It's rather refreshing to see that I usually play Good Cop. When we look back, I hope we see that our unique parenting styles gave our girls some diversity to apply to their own lives and they can pick and choose how they want to be seen.

The Holiday Craptastic Extravaganza!

Let me start by saying, I'm truly not some party-pooping, holiday-hating scrooge but can we, as mamas, come together and say enough is enough! Mini notepads, plastic necklaces, ink stamps, tiny bottles of bubbles, and SO MANY PENCILS. Can we agree that this stuff is nothing more than garbage??

I had my first taste of this school holiday phenomenon when my 5 year old was in junior pre-K. She would come home with a birthday goody bag full of useless items that she swore she had to keep. I would go into stealth-mom mode and slowly throw everything into the trash, one piece at a time. When she would ask about it I would feign ignorance. "Oh, honey, I'm not sure what happened to the Elsa eraser. It's so small, the cats must have knocked it under something." (NOTE: ALWAYS BLAME THE CATS)

Fast forward to pre-K when the loot haul escalated from a single birthday goody bag to a Valentine's extravaganza of crap. 5 year old would go through every bit of junk, ooooh-ing and aaaah-ing, only to leave the bag of China-manufactured, petroleum-based chotchkies sitting on my kitchen island taking up space. And no matter how many times I moved said bag into her room it somehow mysteriously made its way back out to the living room and slowly spread throughout the house like a cold virus at a winter birthday party.

And speaking of birthday parties, enter Kindergarten. Now it's getting serious. Now 5 year old is getting invited to lots of birthday parties because no parent wants to offend anyone so they send out invitations to the entire class. And if there's a party, my 5 year old wants to be there. And each time she arrives home triumphantly carrying a plastic bag emblazoned with Sparkle & Shine or The Incredibles (or if it's that one really fancy party, a handled paper gift bag with a beautiful Alice and Wonderland motif. Cha-ching!) filled with more shit I don't need in my house.

And since we've just arrived in March I can only assume that I have several more bags of this stuff coming my way. This kindergarten class certainly seems to have some overachieving moms who make up goody bags for every little occasion. (St. Patrick's Day, I see you coming.) How long does this last? Does this morph into a new form of junk as they get older? And I still have the 2 year old who has already come home from daycare with a few little knick-knacks in her backpack. You better believe that stuff went straight into the trash before she even knew it existed.

I know, I know. I'm fighting a losing battle. It's all part of the joys of parenthood. I get it. But, come on. Can't we do better than this? Can't we be more creative? (And by "we" I mean the parents who insist on engaging in these holiday shenanigans) If I had a dollar for every piece of cheap, worthless, Oriental Trading Co. catalog party favor that entered this house I'd be typing on a much more expensive laptop.

I'm Rockin' my Mom Genes

This is a blog reborn. Once upon a time I was a childless thirty-something living in NYC with my husband spending my (copious amounts of) free time drinking beer at neighborhood bars, going to brunch on Sunday mornings, scrolling through social media while drinking a hot cup of coffee, and blogging.

Let's fast forward a few years...

I am now a forty-something mama of two girls, ages 5 and 2, living in a small beach town on the eastern end of Long Island. I spend my (limited) free time doing laundry, taking care of household business, picking up endless amounts of toys, and scrolling through social media on the downlow (lest my children see me and demand to watch Baby Shark for the five billionth time), and drinking lukewarm cups of coffee while trying to pack lunches and get children dressed.

But I still enjoy the idea of blogging. So I resurrected this old girl. Once a blog called Felisfemina where I mused about life in the city, music, and my cats it is now where I will rock my mom genes. I'll talk about mom life and all the joys that go with it (should I start with the tale of my toddler puking all over herself on the Grand Central Parkway on our way to the airport at 7am? Maybe not). I'll talk about health and wellness and self-care, an area that so many moms neglect but one that is critical for us if we want to be able to function on a daily basis and maybe even live a happy, fulfilling life. I'll talk about style and fashion because I love that shit and I don't get to have enough of it in my life (she says as she sits here typing in her Old Navy jeggings and worn out pullover). 

And I will, without a doubt, sometimes complain, often curse, and still talk about my cats.