It's a Day, or not even, it's only A Morning.

I'm feeling nervous about the decision to put The Second born into a 2-day all day program at the Waldorf Charter School.  Probably because today we had an epic morning.

It began with angry elder sister, pick-pick-picking on little sister, while I sang loudly my operatic "Be Kind or Be quiet!" aria.  Then about 4 minutes of timed bickering (probably longer, but once they heard the "$1 a minute!" jingle I improvised, it got quieter). I'm holding the $4 ($1 or 1 household contribution per minute bickering fee) until they get contributions done.

It's a fairly cold, snowy morning, diamond dust in the air, and champagne powder on my truck, so we're already late. But I'm surrendering to the flow of the morning, 'cause I don't wanna make the crazed rush only to be stuck in traffic.

Everyone fed, and getting ready to leave, the Middle One begins her lament about some random item that was or was not seen, or worn, or toted.  Shortly prior to this, she, in the same breath, shared about what she likes at school and then proceeded to whine "puwheease take me out of dis school, momma".

I kept breathing, kept moving forward. Of course, this new development of crazy from her little sister budged Miss Monkey to swing back into sweet-and-helpful mode.

The Second Born proceeds to scream in her trademark screech about how her legs are cold (she chose to wear a long skirt with long socks), but when offered her coat or pants, she screeches again in response.  Her tragedy is most definitely waking neighbors.

We've embarked the vehicle, finally, when I feel I simply cannot drive with her screeching behind me.  I pull over into the empty, snow covered, parking lot of the park directly across the street.  I remove her from the vehicle, lovingly, firmly inform her that I cannot drive safely with her screaming and caterwauling behind me, help her with her coat and hat, "Scream out here all you want. You are welcome back in my car when you're done making that noise."

I keep breathing and recall yesterday when it was time for baby to nurse and rest, I resorted to locking myself in our bedroom to avoid a more serious conflict with her.  It had been a busy morning, back from the gym she had launched, unprompted, into a caterwauling lament about how she wasn't tired and wasn't hungry.  There's a pattern here, and I'm the common thread. Remove myself and alter the pattern, though maybe not as compassionate as I intend (yet), it's all I can muster sometimes.

Back in the snow, 2 minutes or less outside, some impressive lungfuls of air from her, and she calms. Asking for a hug, I'm happy to comply, and then she's eventually back in her seat and we're on our way.

But that's not all...

upon arrival at school, there's more tragedy, most likely trickle down from dramas earlier in the morning. Then hugs, and I'm off, but only to contend with the baby boy hollering fiercely all the way home.

I'm off to crock something for dinner, fold masses of laundry, and maybe get a 1/2 hour or so to sit atop my bike-on-trainer and lift something other than baby weight.

Happy day!

workin' through stress

We're doing something wrong, or by wrong I mean not enough of some thing that would support this little girl. 

And I'm at a loss.  I feel depleted and wonder if I've failed her some how, effed up the groundwork in her early years to have created these problems myself.  49-51% nurture v. nature on any given day, or at any given moment.  

When she and I do connect it's with a weird oppositional intensity that I don't really like participating with, and so recently have made progress at not participating.  But then I'm challenged redefining our connection 'cause I barely know what it should look and feel like. Firstborns really get the crap end of the stick, no?

While our lessons are thus far moving easily, it's only been a week, I suspect it's quite possibly solely because once she's completed it she gets to move on to whatever she likes, and lately I'm worthless in enforcing natural consequences much much later---and she knows I'm impotent as far as consequences.  Other than keeping her in indefinitely (punishing myself), I really have none.  I'm certainly not about to start beating her into submission.

I'm weary of being her target for insults and whatever she wants to physically hurl at me (yesterday it was a shredded tortilla, it's been a turtle, a book, anything within reach and within her momentarily limited reason). I really dislike hate her behavior, and feel that whatever consequences do crop up aren't enough 'cause the behaviors only seem to have patterned out.  There's little to no respect of my simple requests, and she'll effectively ignore me unless there's something in it for her.

So, is there something amiss with her functionality?  we wouldn't know as we've never had her assessed by  trained professionals.  This is a big concern if she's in a federally funded school, I don't want her intensity and big energy mistaken for some affliction-of-the-moment.  And I certainly don't want these attributes "educated" out of her.

I know I've got rose colored lenses on what we could  do with homeschooling, how rainbow mermaids, starry unicorns, and magical butterflies simply flock to our lovely soft-glowing house where gnomes and fairies reside and we leap and dance through a garden of mystical wildflowers....ppffffttt.

I peruse the possibilities, the questions and answers on the Enki support page. All the available information and I'm overwhelmed, feeling that I can't give her enough to fully support her development at this stage.  My energies are too divided.  I feel like if I'm struggling then I must be doing it wrong, it shouldn't be so emotionally draining.  It feels to me that with her behaviors she's asking for more.  More of what though?

It is possible that my discomfort is due to some inward shift, or combination of shifts hormonal (hair falling out) and otherwise.  I'm again at a loss as to how to sort my self out lacking time and solitude required.

Some kids go in and out of school, home schooling off and on as their needs change. It's not really fair to her siblings as she dominates time and energy, keeping us all guessing at what her next freak-out will be.  It's exhausting and we, I, need to widen the circle, get more support.

We're meeting with our L&L guru and Reverend this week. The only school I'd consider sending her into has an opening in 2nd grade classroom, and it's the only opening they have (local Waldorf charter).

I refuse to spend time in "what if" zone, it's a waste of precious resources, not to mention useless and pointless.  

In tears, I pray to listen, pray to hear, and pray for guidance.

"We be the best we can be in the moment. And we live with grace." 

~ Rachelmartin.blogspot.com

Post-Kenpo, soccer uniform pick up, a line of people in the waning heat of late summer, mostly accompanied by children, who, given the hour, may or may not have eaten dinner.  The kids group about, two games of tag are being played, then one Duck-Duck-Goose! and one Tag.  Chatting amicably with a young nanny, baby's falling asleep in the sling.  My turn at the table, I call my child over to try on a jersey, at first there's a lite resistance as she was playing intently...then IT begins, because there are only 10 girls on her team, and her only choice is between number 23 or number 12.

We'd had a discussion about color, team colors are green and white, only green and white.  There had been a brief discussion about numbers, that she wouldn't get to pick a number as we hadn't pre-ordered.

Apparently it wasn't enough.  

But really, who would predict that a discrepancy of numbers would send a 7 year old into a raging fit?

I can't even remember everything that was said.  The hate-filled ugliness screeching from her mouth, confusion about how team uniforms are numbered exacerbated by lack of food, and a long active day.  I eventually ran out of verbal tools, gratefully it was the same time I completed writing out the check, I called the Second Born and we moved First Born drama short distance to the parking lot.

I am grateful I didn't do anything to feel ashamed.  For me, her behavior was somewhat embarrassing, though I've come to care less and less about what others think.  At some point I mentioned she was embarrassing herself---a flicker of doubt crossed her face, but then I guess she figured she'd already committed to the tantrum so publicly, she may as well go all in.  And I do mean all in.  

"I will not speak to you again until you've eaten something and you're calm."

After moving her seat back between the younger two (as I can't be expected to drive safely while there's anyone fr-eak-ing the eff out in my passenger seat) I had to buckle her in.  She woke her brother with her shrieking and caterwauling though eventually helped him with his paci.

"I think you shouldn't speak again either, until you've eaten and  you're calm."

We made it home.  With a call ahead The Man had prepped simple dinner for them.  They got fed and then even had story at bedtime.

I'm completely wrung out.  We had such a good week, to end with such crap...it's just really really disappointing.  I've sadness, anger, and feeling weary.  It's these behaviors that 'cause me to think she should be in brick & mortar school, or that there's something amiss with her functionality.  But I know that giving in to her crazed states would only create more tantrums in the future.  Now delayed consequences loom in the coming week, because my energy has been completely drained.

All this after a standard three year old tantrum 'cause I wanted to listen to the Broncos game recap/analysis instead of Wheels On The Bus.

So, aforementioned Ms. Martin is dead on---Carry on Brave Mother.

2nd grade

This is first full day of second grade photo....it's not exactly what I had in mind. 

I had to bodily pull her back out of the car after this photo, then having deposited her at the HSC director's desk with a comment on how Exciting my morning had been, said, "I love you, have a great day."
Some possible reasons she was a feeling irritated:
She chose not to eat breakfast
She has her first soccer practice today
The sun was shining
She's simply nervous and scared and isn't very good about processing it.

Big sigh, and thank goodness for Love & Logic.

Consequences

I suppose this is my comeuppance for her chosen consequences from last weekends' utter atomic melt down tantrum. 

She only just started to feel the reality of her choice to not play with little friends all week. The other choice was to stay home and work with her Papa all day Saturday, skipping a birthday party.  We only came to the conclusion of giving her a choice after almost an hours' deliberation. In addition to that choice, she had to clean up the great mess she made of her sister's bed and their room, AND she's yet to figure out how to pay Ms. J for her impromptu sittering service.  

I'm indebted to that lovely woman for backing me up when I needed to get out.  All mamas should have an emergency phone-a-friend.

3 AM

Three o'clock in the morning, or thereabouts.  Just finished a double-nursing/double-diaper-change session, and I'm left wide awake and thinking.

It's these times in the dark quiet listening to breathing noises that I've blog ideas rattling around my mind.  I might pray some, meditate, last night, though, I had to get up and put ideas down on paper so as not to forget them by morning.

There are three now, three people we created out of irreducibly complex cells...well we, and The Divine.  Interesting that we can scientifically describe all the processes, and yet we cannot really define HOW it works.

Some questions and comments lately as I'm wearing baby around herding t'other two:

How old is your baby?  1.5 months 

Wow, you're brave!

Really? I guess I don't consider myself especially courageous doing simply what needs to be done. Besides, if we tried to stay in until there was some comfort level, we might end up at such odds it'd be tragically comical.  And it's rather a lack of options.  Though mostly I simply chuckle and answer, "May be."

Is he a good baby? (mostly from the elder crew)

Well, now, ALL babies are good.  If you mean is he a good sleeper, then yes, mostly.  In regards to elders, I've also had most interesting conversations about circumcision especially with older ladies.

Is it different having a boy?

Not, really.  Its different equipment to work around, I've been pee'd on a bit here and there. I used to say it often, but now I've proof: babies are pretty androgynous.  It's how we treat them that matters regarding sex/gender.

How is it with Three?  Is it hard?

Not as challenging as going from 1 to 2.  We've switched to zone coverage instead of man-to-man (though I kinda feel like I've been doing zone coverage since E was born). Generally speaking the two are entertaining each other while I'm with the baby.  Or they're fighting and I've had them confined to quarters, hands-to-themselves-stay-on-your-bed, then I do my level best to ignore whatever I over hear. ("Sounds like you're having a problem, let me know if you need some options to work it out!"  Ultimately life is only as hard as we make it.  And my children are not inconvenient or a problem, they are my life's main work.  They are blessings.

Love only grows, especially when it's allowed to.  For myself it's actually easier now to notice and comment on positives with the girls---my conscious being present has enhanced.  It may be that my time at a premium has forced me into a more practical place with prioritizing on all levels.  I'm extremely grateful not to live in a constant state of dramatic enactment of "OMG there are THREE."  Just keep moving forward, willingly and joyfully doing the next right thing...and some days a whole lot of prayer and mindfulness practice!

A Good Day

Morning, of blueberry muffins, decaf & juice.
Making a lazy summer day. Some sewing, some weeding, little sweeping, praying and talking.
Littles' creative juices flowing.

Lunch and bit of laundry.

More creativity and a Substantial Mess.

"I only take kids to gymnastics that pick up after themselves."
Leading to "pick up everything you want to keep in the next 45 minutes".
Dinner is ready and on the table "for the next 25 minutes."

Oh the lament and tragedy.  I felt really sad to pick up all the stuff they'd worked so diligently on, and their new owl backpacks just received this weekend.  Empathy in full effect.  I felt kinda mean, but knew I had to follow through with my word.  There were tears and hugs for The Second Born, and flashes of quasi-half-hearted anger from The Eldest....
Eventually when it all calmed down, and tummies were filled, we migrated to the patio where a spontaneous stage show was happening courtesy Miss Monkey and slapstick comedienne Monk-a-doodle.

Papa comes home, there's wrastlin' and tag, giggles and squeals galore, winding slowly down to
bed.

All is well.  Life is good, ALL the time.

The BIRTHDays Are Here

I had a lovely, simple birthday.  I got a nice breakfast, home facial, a bit of yoga, meditation, short Morning Lesson with my Big Girl, and off we went to celebrate a fabulous local shop's first birthday as well.  Though I spent too much time perusing the supplies we made it to my OB appointment then spent the afternoon with dear friends, Lucky Pie pizza, and Sweet Cow Ice Cream.  Back on our side of town we met for lite grocery shopping and a quick meal pick-up.  The girls were so wasted and belligerent with lack of rest (most especially the Younger of The Two) it was a sad comedy getting them fed and sacked out.  

The Elder of The Two then had her birthday celebration the following day, with a Kenpo sparring workshop, trips to the Lego and comic book stores, then a Rockin' Kitchen and ice cream get together at Scrumptious.  An unintended bonus is that her birthday is May the Fourth Be With You, so, many Star Wars perks were had.  

The weekend hasn't been without challenges here and there, nothing that Love & Logic skills couldn't handle.  In trying to keep it simple we overlooked a couple of things that were pretty important to Miss Monkey, namely singing the Birthday Song and blowing out candles.  We're still rookies in a certain sense when it comes to her, it's rather difficult to keep up with her expectations discerning which are truly important and which are red herrings.  As it turned out, those two items were non-negotiable, though everything else she listed about her day as not ideal weren't necessary.

Next weekend the Younger will have her birthday slightly occluded by her elder sister's first CARA gymnastics meet, otherwise it's business as usual.  I am starting to feel some real pressure to have certain items on hand before relaxing into the birthing process---like peanut butter, toilet paper, and frozen foods.  I am so ready to have this babe in arms rather than pummeling my innards, causing physical discomfort and effectively handicapping me.  Ideally, I'd like to have the entire house in proper order, but I'm realistic.  I've already wiped down a majority of the house as we moved in, no worries there.  Getting other things ready, however, has been a challenge as I feel I can't do anything until, but then there are To-Do's that must be done before.  I need a place for baby to sleep (when not with us in bed), a few items for the baby to wear, and a couple of swaddling blankets. The diapers are all collected and clean, ready to use.  Though I have to figure out a mattress and bedding for it, the crib is in house.  For myself, I'd like my sling, nursing cover, nursing bra or two, and an UnderCover Mama.....and maybe one or two other things that will come up as needs inevitably do.  

So it goes, so it beautifully goes.  I am so blessed, I am so grateful.

Just One Spring Morning

The Elder of The Two didn't want to wake pleasantly, or at all, this morning, and I refused to hang around trying to convince her otherwise.  Then began the slamming of doors.

So, I devised a training session.  The Younger of The Two and I would walk across to Starbucks, get some brunchy fun snacks.  The Elder missed out.

When we came back, Miss Monkey was lamentable and tragic as expected.  I empathized with her though she would accept none of it.  She got it in her head to go on her own.  She grabbed her money, donned her Easter shoes and headed down the sidewalk.

And *gasp* I didn't follow her.  Breathe. Pray. Repeat.  Not that I could follow in my gravid state, to engage would've created a physical altercation, in which I am unwilling to participate.  

She made it as far as the intersection (50 yds or so), hung around the fence line.  I could see her, though she didn't see me.  And I have it that she was looking to see who would follow.

She returned to change her shoes, left again in an entitled huff.  Made it just as far, returned again to tell me how I'm a Terrible Mother, and jogged back toward her ultimate goal again. This last time she was gone for almost 20 minutes.  20 loooong Mommy Minutes.  

I phoned everyone who knows Love & Logic....because what's next?  I even considered stretching my resources to instill a big scare from the Police, kinda grateful it didn't come to that.

When I began the phone call to a retired neighbor in our ex-townhouse unit, asking if he would take a walk and let me know where he spotted her, there she came walking from t'other direction back to Miss J's.  Her attitude hadn't much improved, but the door slamming wasn't quite as vehement.  

She never made it to Starbucks.  Knowing exactly where she was safe, she never crossed the road. (grateful mommy)  My guess, she stuck pretty close in to the Townhomes she's become so familiar with these past 2.5 years (grateful again).

perpetrator of drama

There will be a conversation later today, maybe tomorrow latest, regarding the situation without a total rehash lecture.  It's been a challenge with the upheaval of moving and the uncertainty of when we'll be in our house.  I'm so very very thankful for the skills I've gained parenting, I didn't engage, I didn't lose my temper, I used all my L&L phrases + empathy.  

I let her work it out and saw evidence that we've done right thus far.  She knew her limits, and was entrusted with them, and entrusted that she'd work it out and return, which she did. Some part of me knew that she would.  *momma relieved sigh* 

Now, to get on with the day.  Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day!

The witness, who fell out of a chair &
was scratched severely by Porter (she insists on getting in his face)
during the whole fiasco.

After a lovely day at the playground, post-bath, post-nap, naked toddler in a towel, The First born looking stonily from her bed:
"Do you want to pick out your clothes?"
"No, I want Mama to pick out my clothes."
"Okay, how about these (pants & tee)?"
"NO! I don' want those!!"
"Okay, what would you like?"
"I want Mama to pick out my clothes."
"All right, E, this is was Mama has picked."
"NOooo!! I don' want those clothes."
"Well then, you pick them out," slowly beginning to see this fruitless conversation headed in a beyond belligerent direction.
"NOoooo! YOU pick them out!"
"I tried E, this is what I pick, you asked Mommy to choose for you, this is what I choose."
"NOOO!!"
"Okay, I love you, I tried to choose for you, now you can do it yourself."
"NOOOOO!!!  MAMA DON' LEAVE!!" as if there are rabid angry wolves in her room....which I have to admit it's a decent comparison as F was already confined to bedroom after losing her mind when I asked if she'd prefer a bath or shower.

I didn't want to leave her to the wolves, but I didn't have much choice. After toying with me that she would get dressed, but indecision won out over the urge to escape the room, her caterwauling got the best of me, I had to leave.
After 30 minutes or so, both of them screaming at me when I offered them an apple (figuring blood sugar  might be the culprit), they both eventually made it out of the room.  E needs a hug, and F is fighting her way through picking up the play room.  The burgers are done, and miracles of miracles we all survived and I'm still here.

I need dark chocolate, or a d*mn beer.

Field Trip

There's a story we read in our curriculum about 2 sisters, one's heart is cold as stone (Manyara), one is gentle and kind no matter what (Nyasha).  I feel sometimes that I have a Manyara and a Manyara in training....it's heart breaking.  When they beat on each other there are some instances when they'll work it out, this morning was not one.  My solution, per Love & Logic, has been to "uh-oh!  bedroom time for you both (confined to beds)...when you're both calm, and both ready for recovery you may both come down at the same time."  It works fairly well---I've managed to rein in my reactive wade-into-the-fray-and-fix-it impulse.

We are supposed to field trip today to another indoor pool where I'll be comically flush in maternity suit wondering if my skin will survive the chlorine content.  They've run the gamut this morning, sweet, playing, to screaming, to bedroom time, to attitude-terrible, to recovery, to talking, to affimations, and currently working on the only chance they'll have to get to this pool adventure.  At one point in her frustration F actually screamed, "we're NOT GOING!" to which I replied, "really?cool!  Thank goodness, I'm totally happy to stay home today, THANKS!"  Stopped her in her verbal tracks.

Barely clinging to sanity at the moment, but soldiering forth.

Simply Be Grateful

I've made gratitude lists here several times before (label gratitude).

Seeing this post by Finding Joy I think I'll participate in a blessings list...stream of consciousness style.

Soothing music gifted to us by Dear Friend M, Elizabeth Mitchell...aiding currently the explosive reaction by The Firstborn when she made a couple of poor decisions that kept her from shopping with Papa tthis morning...cinnamon bananas that the Second is stubbornly refusing to eat after requesting them....stubborn-ness or better put tenacious aspects of both these children, successful people are determined in some form or other...consequences, no matter how terrible the reaction seems at the moment, the lessons learned now will benefit future decision making, my kids aren't happy all the time because they live in this real world, that's a blessing....Love & Logic that has given me tools to use, helped me better understand my own issues with empathy and love, and lead me into my more authentic parenting style....their little dollars wasted on crap candy, a lesson in and of itself when both girls decided the didn't like the candy....berries are a blessing in every sweet bite...glu-free flour for morning waffles with maple syrup...smarter eating, especially considering my pregnant state....blessing of healthy children, healthy pregnancy, healthy friendships, healthy marriage, healthy harmonious and happy existence....blessing of community relationships thickened in the past 6 years, a sense of belonging is priceless....deeper learning about my own reactions and responses that I can ferret out and understand any ideas of separation, limitation, and fear that linger....

Saturday Daddy day projects with papa...recovery time on the stairs for little people....new blender (the Ninja died).... kale + blueberry + almond milk + greens + protein powder = goodgreengratitudes....but then mixed frozen berries + greens + protein + pomegranate juice = detox wonderful....and 'cause I have to, the choco monkey = dark chocolate almond milk + frozen bananas + peanut butter (+ protein)....

{most of this appears to be about food, well I am pregnant, and it's coming up on lunchtime}

little girls giggling....yogurt smiles...berry "roll-ups" for breakfast, invented by the Firstborn....Rosetta Stone Spanish...toddler voices in the grocery exclaiming "OH, SHELLS!" regarding (pi)'stacios, and asking so sweetly, "mama, can we have deez wittle wed t'ings, puh-wease?" (raspberries)....watching little brains make new connections & myelination....learning to teach is a blessing, making my own new myelinations....weather days....situations and circumstances that strengthen us individually and as a family....my husband, lover, provider, funny-man, father, trekker on this adventure....beatrix potter story books....firm parenting resolve....distractions....nonsensical silly things....fun....purple tutus first thing in the morning...prioritizing, maturity, love....

creativity, inspiration, and dreams....generousity (receiving and giving)....peanut butter....hummus....chubby little wrists, and marshmallow fists....baby kicks...pickles, pizza, and cheeseburgers....hot & cold running water, indoor plumbing, on-demand heat & cooling, choices of foods to nourish our bodies all blessings....

....my ability to notice a blessing is, in and of itself, a blessing.

Atomic E

Yesterday, a visit at the coffee shop, then walk a few blocks to the GGB to hang and check out their diaper display.  It was a beautiful day, sunny, not too chilly, almost like spring.

We passed a playground on the way, I promised that we'd stop back by on our way to the vehicle.  Little did I know how looooong those few blocks would be when we exited the Giggling Green Bean.  The temperature had dropped since we'd gone in, and neither of us Mamas was appropriately prepared for the weather change.  We finally reach the mid-point of our trek, the playground, of course E has to visit it, I compromise by offering her 2 activities, she chooses the merry-go-round (fyi, not so merry now that speed governors of sorts have been introduced on them---what's the fun of a merry-go-round unless you can fall off with sick dizziness?) and the slide...and then my fun really begins.

She doesn't want to leave (of course, it's about to be snowing, and we've no coats, hats, mittens, gloves, bibs)...and she begins to wail and lament tragically.  At this point in the pregnancy it's not especially comfortable to carry a 35# toddler more than a block.

"I don' wanna leave!"

"I know, it's sad to leave the playground.  Do you need a hug?"

"NO!" {pause}  "I don' WANNA LEAVE!!"

"I know, I love you, " I keep walking, through the magic of continued motion and the use of "I know" she follows me.

repeat. repeat. repeat.

She stops, she's cold but unable to admit it.

"Do you need to be carried? or will you walk holding hands?" She needs to hold hands, she's tired and lagging behind enough that a hand will move her along, and I'm flingin'-flangin' COLD.  

I resort to "sack-o-potatoes" carry with her for half a block before she decides to walk on her own again.  Then the whole lament repeats, the carry or walk process repeats....the entire time she's wailing, caterwauling, yelling.  I comment aloud, "I'm not sure CPS heard you yet, could you yell louder?"  to which she hollers, "NO!!"

After our trek my friend and I bid a hasty good-bye, and load up our respective cars.

There was a decent enough nap, then a pick up, short down time, then back out to swimming and gymnastics.  As we left Miss Monkey at her 'nastics so I could bed down Monka-Doo, the latter went Atomic again.  This time I was beyond tired, and barely hanging on to sanity.  She became so belligerent as to accuse her shoes of doing wrong, she hates her coat, "it's make me ANGwee!"  I again sling her to the "sack-o-potatoes" carry to move from the rec center to the vehicle.  I'm not sure that the police vehicle sitting out front contained an officer but I'm grateful that if so, he/she must know what it is to be a momma on her last straw.  I'm almost 7 months pregnant, lugging a wailing 2.6 yo child through the parking lot in the snowy dark.

I stood outside my car for a few deep breaths.  I love snow, everything becomes so quiet, so peaceful, so beautiful.

And all the way home she hollered, between bouts of tragic crying, at the back of my head.  "Stop saying 'I know'!"or "Stop saying, 'maybe so'!" and "Weaving make me feewl ANGwee!  YOU STUPID!"  I'm grateful the metal water bottle she chucked my direction only met with the armrest, then only socks actually flew to the front seat.  This continued non-stop until I started reading a bedtime story, and picked right up again when I finished the book.

Always an Adventure. : )  Life really is tough at Two

Little Monkey Money Matters

The little girls receive allowance.  We follow Love & Logic, once they’re old enough not to eat their money, they’re old enough for allowance.  So, the Younger gets $2/week, and the Firstborn gets $6/week, taxes withheld for her, so she nets $5/week.  The Firstborn has been [mostly] saving for a guinea pig going on almost a year now, I've heard her say, "No, I'm saving for a guinea pig, I'm putting my money in the Save Jar."

Toddleator E, a.k.a. Monka-Doodle, had built up quite a bank in her jar, and we’d been chatting about sunglasses for the past couple of months.  She would lament about not having sunglasses every sunny day (which is often here) in the back seat.  One highly productive Monday, while Big Sister attended homeschool connection I found we were timed perfectly to stop by consignment shop for this very purpose.   So, she bought four pair.  At least I was able to talk her out of six pair.  The Man was a bit taken aback by this, and we reminded ourselves that this is her money, not ours.  Well, she’s got 4 new play glasses one of which at least should be kept in the car methinks.  Bonus, when a pair gets crushed or lost, it's easier for me to practice some loving detachment and empathy, rather than reacting with frustration and anger as if it had been my money.

With Miss Monkey’s money, we had a lesson most recently noteworthy.  Had anyone been listening it might’ve sounded as if I was stealing from the child.  One sunny bright day last week, we made plans to head up the mountain for ice skating, little sis was fighting illness though so a ride was arranged.  There was a question as to whether or not F would need to pay entrance + skate rental, I responsibly gave her $10 to pay for just that.  “This ten is to pay for your entrance, should you need it.  Otherwise, I expect my ten dollars back when you return. Agreed?”  She assented, took some money from her Spend Jar for random whatnot, and off they went.

Upon returning, there was some amount of cash and change on the counter, I asked her whether that was hers or mine?  There was some confusion from her.

“Do you have my $10?”

“Well, J used it to buy Twizzlers.”

“Oh, so where is my ten?”

Somewhat distressed, “J used it to buy Twizzlers!”

“Well, F, I gave you the ten to pay for your entrance.  Did you have to pay for your entrance to the skating?”

She shakes her head, no.

“Okay, then I expect my $10 back….is this it on the counter?”

Then the frustration sets in for her.  I counted the money on the counter finding it was a little short of $10, “Well, it looks like you owe another $1.10 to pay me back.”

Then the crying lament starts, she apparently spent all of her money on treats for herself and her friends, and really does not want to pay me back any of the money I gave her.

“Oh, so you spent your money on treats for yourself and your friend?  That’s really generous and friendly. {pause}  The money I gave you for entrance was money only for that, and I expect it returned since it wasn’t used.  I’m fairly certain you and I were clear on this before you left.  I love you, I know this is hard.  Come back downstairs when you’re calm and can discuss it in a friendly way.”

Briefly I thought, it is only a dollar-ish, it’s not that big a deal.  Then my Love & Logic overtook that doubt---it’s not about the quantity, it’s about the lesson there in.  A $1.10 mistake now, will avoid a $110 (or more) mistake later.  The Man returned from some errand, fresh and ready to mediate. And after bedroom time Miss Monkey was freshly ready to attempt to manipulate the situation in her favor with Papa home now.  In no uncertain terms he let her know the tragic sound of her feelings would not change the circumstances.  He reminded her “if she wants to have her own money to use, she has to behave responsibly with it.  Otherwise, we can find other options for that money.”  (Hooray parental unity!)

I did get my money back, thanked her, and we went on about our day.

Stay the course. All is well.  I’m grateful and proud!

: )

A

Cheesey goodness

Oh the rewards of bravery with their "pokes" this week. Courageously she choose to get vaccs all done at one time instead of going back for repeat (therefore little sis did too).
We delayed a lot longer than the recommended schedule.
Doc complemented our diet & sleep habits, as well as the mental prepping I had done with them about the shots.  You see, I won't lie to my kids, my line is "yes, it will probably hurt, but it will pass and I will be with you the whole time."

Ransom Box Update

Hooray for the newest mechanism of empowering my kiddos to take care of their things and make contributions to the household!  I *heart* the Ransom Box!
Miss Marvelous Monkey chose to do SEVEN ransoms t'other day.  Included wiping baseboards, 10 hugs n' kisses for Mama saying "Only Turkeys leave their toys out," wiping inside of vehicle, reading quietly for 15 minutes in her room, cleaning windows/mirrors upstairs, and a couple others.  It's easier and more fun when my reaction to her ransom demand is smiling dramatic incredulity, "What?  that's not fair!  you always pull things you like to do!"  She completed them all in reasonable time and chose 7 items out of the box to replace in our newly organized play/craft room.

Even Toddleator E is in on the game, though she struggles a little with the requirement of doing something in order to get what she wants from the box.  Of course in her case I might modify the demand, making it somewhat simpler.  The last slip she drew was yelling "I love my mama, she takes care of me!" 10 5 times.

This weekend I will prep for starting our first month of home's-cool, and The Man and I will celebrate a little for our 9th anniversary.  Happy holiday weekend!
: )

Tantrum Style, Toddleator E

She doesn't have many full-on tantrums, and what she has exhibited I think are experiments in copying her elder sister's behavior.  Lucky Toddler gets to see first hand what natural consequences befall the Firstborn with some of her behavior.  My consistency has to be switched on, I think in recent past I've been prey to the "she's just a baby girl" mental track, and I've had to step out of that.  She's not a baby anymore, she's very aware, very intense, very goofy, incredibly sensitive, smart, and verbose.  It's amazing to me that we don't give them more credit as little as they are.  They know exactly what they want and do what they can to get it.  Watching a vid from more than a year ago, I saw The Two sitting opposite each other, The Man mostly addressing Miss Monkey, while Baby E bangs her cup on highchair tray looking expectantly for the attention she knows it will garner.  Toddleator E knows already that she has to go up to her room to tantrum, then sit in recovery.  Most times she'll come out to say, "I done cryeeng, Mama."  Then she tries to take herself out of recovery by sitting a few moments, then "Mama, I done reecov'ree," which sometimes leads into a small power struggle with me because "I say when you're out of recovery, sweetheart, sit back down."
Most times she ends up in bedroom time because she can't communicate fast enough in situations with her sister (yet), and the smaller will simply clobber the bigger.  She's gotten some good shots in on her sister, surprising Miss Monkey a couple of times enough to learn she doesn't want to get into a hitting contest with her.  There are times when I have to sing the "uh-oh" song for them both and they end up in their room hollering together, "I love you both. Work it out, and when you're calm and feeling friendly to each other again, come sit in recovery."
There are only two times I can think of that E has gone Atomic, completely off the edge of reason, and she's been relegated to her bed (or I've wrestled her into the car seat), where she caterwauled seemingly without end until sleep overcame her (must be genetic).  Most other times it's a power struggle between what she wants to do and what I need her aimed toward, i.e. homeward bound pre-dinner on the tricycle.  She's doing well on her tricycle, and last evening she doesn't want to go home.  There's a choice, you can ride your trike home or I can carry you.  Pause. "Uh-oh,  so sad, mommy has to carry you" (and the trike, grateful I've the strength).  I hike the caterwauling, whining sack of potatoes on one side, and the tricycle on t'other side the short distance home, where eventually she calms enough and moves on to something else while I get dinner situated.
So it goes!
Blessed are we.
:  )  <3

It wasn't a big big deal, but since I let it become a power struggle I had to take decisive action.  In the future I think I'll need to change my approach to the edge of funny, nay ridiculous, instead of letting these people affect my plans thus.  Comedy is a cure all.
I had planned a good run & swim at the gym, then hit the pool for a little bit, baths, quick lunch, and dropping kiddo at gymnastics.
God laughs at plans, right?

Began when I *had* to check something on email,  +10 minutes behind.
Continued when I remember it's garbage day, and there's some attitudinal adjustment from The Firstborn re: helping....
But the recycle pick up had already happened (seriously---before 8am?  yes, my bad.), +30 minutes more for loading, driving, dropping at the local recycle spot.
Finally arrive at gym parking lot...there's a squabble about hair rubber[band]s or hair clips, see there's only one clip and only one hair rubber, but they both want clips.  I suppose I had some weird expectation that the 6 yo would take the more mature attitude.

Note, Miss Monkey will do just about anything to get to KidsClub, she will back-track, capitulate to what ever I might ask, do chores, run laps, just so she can get in there with the play place/big screen/Wii action.

But this is unacceptable.  Since I know that she's only saying what she needs to get what she wants, I have to maintain the upper hand.

After baking in the sun for a few minutes trying to convince the Younger to let me put her hair up, I decide we'll sit in the car for a few minutes.  Upon asking telling, The Firstborn she needs to get back in the car, she then goes quasi-Atomic.  Kicking at me, "YOU'RE STUPID!  I'm gonna call YOU an ADULT WORD!"
I chuckle, "Oh, and how would that work out for you?"
I paused, "You've just shown me that KidsClub isn't for you today."

At a stop light, amidst caterwauling, she hurls a water bottle at me, it glances off my shoulder.
For an instant I see what others in vehicles around me might see from a more unconscious parent.

I calmly look over my shoulder at her, "Aren't you soooo lucky, I am such a good mama?"

Back at home now I've sent texts to all my sitters in attempt to get someone here, payment will come from Miss Ill-Manner Monkey's allowance.  Otherwise she is confined to bedroom time until lunch and then gymnastics.

Of course, the Younger, has behaved like a little angel, being incredibly sweet and calm---or maybe that's just by comparison.

Oh, still a Happy Day 'cause I have all the tools and growth that I need to keep on keepin' on.
<3

Momma Hates Water Parks

This
Is what happened the first time I took The Firstborn to a water park. We have not been back to one, without occasion, since. Amongst the sadness I was struggling with at the time, missing the gorgeous beaches we used to frequent....coming to acceptance that this is our option now in beautiful (yet landlocked) Colorado, then there's a wicked tantrum. She peed on me as I carried her to the locker room. I remember phoning The Man in tears when we finally made it to the vehicle.

Anyway, we tried it again this morning joining a little friend's birthday party. Even with an intention set for the progress of the day....even with prepatory conversation for how this day would go...she still went haywire.  Too excited, too much activity, too much sugar, too much sun & heat, too little time with her friend, plus a scraped knee, an unfriendly rebuff, and total disappointment with what I can only guess were her expectations for the party.  All added up to a total caterwauling fit as we left. She made her self late for practice, she didn't get showered, feed herself well, or prep properly for gymnastics.

I think I did okay with empathy (not medal worthy, but better than past situations), still haven't decided whether or not consequences are forthcoming, but kinda feeling like its been enough already.  It's a lot to ask with such a long day, I get that. Toddleator E had stellar behavior on the other hand. Gratefully they haven't both gone Atomic simultaneously.
I still feel like I will NEVER take her to any water park again though. If don't get to enjoy it with them as well, what's the point?
Maybe we'll wait a few  years....like 10 or so.
Happy sunny afternoon!
: ) <3

L & L Of Late

First, The Thumb.  Miss Monkey is 6, and has said that she would let go of her thumb by her,4th 5th 6th birthday.  While on our road trip to Texas I was inspired by the money cans she uses for allowance.  

"Hey, F, what would you think about starting a "dental work" can?  that way if you decide you won't let go of your thumb, by the time you need dental work it'll be all saved up."

Her reaction was explosive.  

Since then it hasn't been an issue, but mostly because the blankie has gone missing.  For almost 2 weeks now, she's been sleeping and functioning without the security item and by default The Thumb has been removed from her sleep routine. As I recently heard 21 days makes a habit---I hope it stays MIA for a while longer yet.

Second, what to do with all those things accumulated in my closet?  last summer I had a garage sale where she bought back the things she wanted with her own money (and sold a few things to neighbors).  That was a lot of work though.  I happened across a Ransom Box idea from another blog (sadly I do not have the url otherwise I would link it).  That mama has more kids than I, and I figure the method could work well with Love & Logic.  

I purchased a clear plastic bin, large enough to be substantial, but still small enough to carry easily.  Placed in side all the toys, dolls, books, dress-ups, etc. that didn't get put away properly, I labeled it, then sat down to make a list of "demands" some inspired by the 50 parent chargers from my L&L workbooks.  

For example:

sweep tile floors

wipe down bathroom cabinets & counters

yell 10 times "My parents are SuperFantastic!"

10 jumping jacks yelling, "only turkeys leave their toys out!"

give mama hugs and kisses, say 5 times "i will pick up after myself!"

sweep patio

fold landry

10 handstands, singing "I'm a Little Teapot"

dust household

wipe kitchen cabinets

Those are just a few.  

I cut these apart, folded slightly, and added to the bin a container of the "ransom demands."

Again, Miss Monkey's reaction was explosive, she spent some time in her room.  She's adapted, however, thus far the score stands at Ransom Box 3 - Uncooperative 6 yo 0.  This way I don't have to nag, and she's got the power to get her stuff back whenever she feels like it---plus the floors are much tidier!

I think we've hit upon a tell tale sign that we're doing a good job setting boundaries, as well.  : ) <3