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.

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.