I am really struggling as a mom this week. I am also struggling as a home executive, efficiency expert, mistress of my domain. I feel instead like the desperate ringmaster of a three-ring circus made up entirely of housecats. Try to picture that for a moment, and feel what I feel.
The struggle is rooted in two things this week: first, that my kids always have terrible rebound behaviour for several days to a week after we visit family, as we did this past weekend; second, that for the past several months we have had no consistent, working daily routine for getting our schooling and housework done in a logical, organic, stress-free way. Ever since I posted a month or so ago about our weekly routine, I have been working out the logistics of our daily routine, trying to figure out why things have not been going well and what we could do about it. I have come up with a plan, which I will share in another post. That was the easy part! The hard part is re-training the girls--and myself--to stay focused and on-task with this new routine, so we make sure to do what needs to be done when it needs to be done.
In other words, I have been in survival mode all week.
So every day since Monday, when the children were so high-maintenance and earned negative consequences all day from poor choices, I have been cracking down and attempting to orchestrate almost every move of five people in the family throughout the entire day. Trying to keep them on task and stay focused, encouraging them to consider the rewards that come with the good choices, being firm with the negative consequences when they still choose poorly, always having an eye on the clock and the timer in my hand, setting a good example by working hard throughout the day. . . .
Trying to teach housecats new tricks.
Anyway, it has been a tiring week, but a rewarding one too, as each day got better and better: more accomplished each day than the day before, more good behaviour and good choices.
Telling you all this is just giving the background for what I really wanted to say, which is that the hardest part of the whole week for me was not being grumpy about everything. And I think several days I was failing more than I was succeeding! And it is because of the children. My dear, sweet children whom I love very much, and who know how to purposefully push my buttons better than anyone else. (Even better than D, since he only does it on accident ; ) The children who, when they receive a consequence they earned fair and square, have started saying things like, "If you really loved us you wouldn't ______ " or "A nice mommy would ______ ." The best one: "Mrs. Kimball doesn't ______."
But I admit, I was actually wounded every time they said something like that, mean, on purpose, to hurt me because they were angry. I guess it is good to get a little practice in dealing with such words now, before they are
And then, several times this week I would specifically instruct them to do something in the other room while I was busy in the living room, and a while later I would discover they had never obeyed me, but instead spent the time making a fun surprise for me. Grrrrrrrrrrr. As a mom, what the heck are you supposed to do at that moment? Your darling children are standing in front of you with a "present" they made for you, beaming with excitement for you to open it. And you are sitting, inwardly fuming, because they should not have been doing anything but following through on what they were told to do, and you are really cracking down on them listening and obeying this week, so there should be a consequence for this direct disobedience, but you don't want to dash to pieces this moment of sweet daughterhood.
Let me give a very specific example:
G brought this to me the other day. Which she had made while she was supposed to be doing her math in the bedroom (where she would, theoretically, be less distracted):
Read the note:
Is your heart melting? Mine wasn't.
She had taken gift tissue from my collection in my closet and wrapped up her personal treasure box AND her personal candy jar. She had noticed I was a little cranky that day, and was offering that I could chose something from each container to help make me feel better. I took a deep breath and withheld the lecture on my tongue. The one about their cheerful and willing hearts being the gift I truly desire. About how listening to me and obeying me are showing me that they love me.* I chose to be gracious and accept the gift offered, to give weight to the thoughtfulness behind the offer. I opened her treasure box and admired some of the junk treasures and finally told her I wanted her to keep her treasures. I opened the candy jar, and decided I was probably a little low blood sugar right then and it would be appropriate to take her up on that offer. I looked and said to her, "Oh, you do have my favorite kind of candy bar." (A bite-sized Snickers left from Halloween. Technically my favorite before I discovered the world of dark chocolate.)
She looks at the jar and the candy bar. Then she says, "Well. . . you could have a Jolly Rancher. I have two of those."
And with that last little bit of her childish "giving" rescinded, the last vestige of my tenuous goodwill crumbled inside. I wanted to cry. I held it together and just calmly said, "Well, it's ok. I don't need any candy right now. But thank you for offering." And then bade her return the things to where they belonged, throw away the tissue she had wasted used and finally go do what she was supposed to do forty-five minutes ago.
ARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
How can I love my children and be so mad at them at the same time?! How can such truly adorable creations from their minds and hearts make me so frustrated?!
Advice/perspective welcome. Just be gentle--like I said, it has been a hard week.**
"Coincidentally," I have also been thinking a lot about God as our Maker and Father this week. Think He is trying to teach me something?
**And after taking off Sunday, now we are two steps backward, and this week is not starting off any better! Sigh.
You know why children are so cute? Survival instinct- otherwise they wouldn't live long enough to continue the line!
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry you've had such a hard week, and I do feel for you. Sometimes the problems seem never ending, but I can tell you that it does get a little better as they age, or at least, the problems change so that it feels different. I have been told regularly that I am the meanest mom at school, and I've decided that I'm Ok with that. I'm mean because I make them do chores, and make them be responsible for things, and expect them to grow into caring, successful adults who can survive in the mean world out there. I once told E that "I'm not going to college with you, so you need to learn how to do these things for yourself". Scary thought, that time is only 3 years away...we need to work on laundry and cooking, pronto!
Two things that I have found to be important in child rearing: the Bank of Trust and keeping the lines of communication open. I have been telling the girls for the last couple of years to think about their decisions, because they are making "trust deposits" in the family bank, and someday they might want those trust deposits to do something fun- like be allowed to drive a car. I flatly told E that I am not giving car keys to a child I can't trust, so if you want that privilege you'd better start earning it now. The other is easy- and hard. Listen to what they have to say, and if you're lucky they'll still be telling you everything when they are in high school.