Parenting Pains

I love my boys fiercely, and I am all too aware of how lucky we are to have them here with us.

But.

These boys Sh.awn is a challenge to parent.

Eighty percent of the time, my boy is the sweetest, most lovable child around. He loves to snuggle, laughs easily, and talk to everyone he sees. I'd love to clone him during those moments and have a room full of kids exactly like him.

Then there is the other twenty percent of the time--the moments when he screams and whines and spits and does exactly the opposite of what you say simply because you said it and when the naughty chair or time outs or removing him from a situation or distraction or (in a moment of weakness) the small pop on the mouth after he spit on me (which in no way actually hurt him and resulted in him telling me to smack him again) all fail and I am left a giant bundle of frayed nerves wanting to pull my hair out in frustration.

When things finally settle, and every time his outbursts happen I know they will eventually, I sit, exhausted, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. I can't decide if what is going on is poor parenting on my part (because it feels these episodes are reserved for me more often than they are for his father although admittedly I am with Sh.awn much more), a personality quirk of his, general frustration for both of us, or even a residual from his brain injury.

I mean, I am conscious about trying to be very consistent with consequences, so I don't think my lack consistency is at play. I think I'm giving him plenty of attention at times when all is going well, and I try my very best to not give him "wanted" attention during disciplining. I am not having the same issues with Ja.son or Jack. While they are by no means perfect children and have their own behavior problems, correcting their behavior doesn't come with the same kind of stress that correcting Sh.awn's behavior does.

Sigh.

I know I need to figure something out because this twenty percent is rapidly wearing my down, and I'm starting to worry about when the next fit will show. There is a huge part of me who feels incredibly guilty that I am struggling with this, especially with him in particular. He has been through so much, the least I can do as his parent is to help him thrive and become the best person he can be. I've been failing at that. The added pressure of school fast approaching has me worried that if I don't get a handle on things soon, it will impact him there as well.

So, I am asking you, oh wise Internet. Do you have any suggestions?

Cue Freak Out

I used to think that crying about your babies heading off to kindergarten was kind of crazy. I mean, come on. Kids go to school. It isn't like you don't know it's coming. School is a great thing in a child's life. They learn. They have fun. They make lots of friends. There's no reason to get all worked up over it.

Last week, quite by accident I might add, I discovered that kindergarten registration starts on January 10th. Two days from now. I have been in a mild panic about it ever since.

Oh how I am eating my words. Sigh.

To be fair to myself, my kids do come with a bit more...um, baggage?...issues?...uniqueness than many other kids. I'm okay with that, but it does present a few problems that need to be addressed. There will need to be adaptive services for instance. I'm guessing that there may even be the need for an aide to help one get to the restroom, etc. We'll need "stuff" at a time when schools don't like to give "stuff."

We've already dealt with Local School and were not impressed with how they approached the educational needs of the boys, so I'd like to avoid that school if at all possible. It's a shame, too, because they are literally around the corner from us. Bummer.

I'd prefer wherever they go to be near their therapy unit so they can begin to receive some therapy during the school day rather than after school. That would mean an intradistrict transfer to Desired School. That in itself is no big deal because our district is required to allow transfers when space permits. The problem is that Desired School happens to be the gifted magnet school* in the district and spaces are given on a first come first served basis.

Ack. No pressure right?

Thinking about all of this makes my heart race and I break out in a sweat. My bay-bees going to big boy school...

How can this be?

Fingers crossed I can do this.

And I'm back to freaking out.

*While I know that I am biased as they are my kids, I am fairly certain at least one would qualify into the gifted program anyway. It would be an awesome fit for the boys on many levels.

Not the Kind of Parent I Thought I'd Be

Every child grows and learns at his or her own rate. All that really matters is that they learn. I get that, I really do. If I had a conversation with you on this very topic, I'd even give you anecdotes and research confirming the validity of that theory. Shoot, I've lived this idea with the big boys.

And yet, I have to confess that I can't quite break myself from the panic that sets in when Jack doesn't meet a given milestone by a given time. If a baby site (like the bu.mp's month by month emails) says kids at a certain age should be doing xyz, holy hell I work myself up to a frenzy if Jack hasn't yet done whatever it was. Apparently, I am hyper vigilant about milestones this time around.

As much as I try not to, I start to sweat if he is two seconds late on reaching any given achievement. (Except walking. I am not concerned that he doesn't yet walk. Odd, right? You'd think I'd be really anxious about that one, but alas it doesn't phase me at all.) I research online, type in annoying questions such as "my son is only saying momma and dada should I be concerned" or "my child won't wave bye-bye." Most of the time, I can rationalize the answer before I even type in the stupid question, but I just can't seem to stop myself from doing it anyway. Sigh.

This afternoon, I tried calling Jack by his name only to be completely ignored by him. Over and over. Cue freak out. Again.

Back to go.ogle I went. Sigh. Up popped all of kinds of 'warnings for autism' sites, and well...I freaked even more. I even ended up taking a quiz.

In the end, I took him to his room and called his name and he responded appropriately. I was HUGELY relieved. Like almost in tears relieved. I guess trying to test his response to his name while the television is playing Bub.ble Gup.pies might not have been the most accurate of tests. What a surprise that as a male he'll tune the female out if he is absorbed by the television.

Even with all that is going right with our family right now, I can't shake the feeling that the other shoe is about to drop. A shoe that scares me most is one that would land on Jack. It's not because I love him more, because I can honestly say I don't love him more than his brothers. I have a connection and bond to Jack that is unique, just as the connections I have to each of his brothers are unique. None of those connections is greater than the others. None of those connections are any weaker, either. They are different but the same, if that makes sense.

I'm not the kind of parent I thought I'd be. My fear has made me hesitant and unsure at times. I question myself more with Jack than I did with the big boys. With the big boys, I was in survival mode and called getting through the day a success. With Jack, I'm not in survival mode. I can't merely make it through the day and feel like I am doing a good job as a parent. I want to do everything right...make everything go well...and I am incredibly hard on myself when things are not as easy or natural as my head says they should be.

All of this, I suppose, highlights my desperate need for Jack to be that taste of "normalcy" in a world that is often flipped and turned and upside down. (Please understand that I do think of the big boys as "normal," too, but parenting them has been not always been easy or what I'd consider the "norm.") The thought of that "normalcy" being taken away brings a lump to my throat and knocks the air out of me.

I know that it is beyond unfair to him (and his brothers) to place this kind of responsibility on him, but I have. I also know that the whole idea of "normalcy" is a fallacy. What's normal to you, may not be to me and all of that jazz...

But, even though I know all of that, I feel the need for normal all the same.

The End of Summer

Welcome ICLW'ers! This is always a favorite part of the month for me. I love getting the chance to find new blogs and reading new stories. :-)

---

Tonight is my last night of summer. Tomorrow, I reenter the working world.

I am beyond sad. I love what I do, but I would love to get the chance to stay home with the boys for a while longer. I worked so hard for them...

I wish that we were in the position of me being able to be a SAHM.

That's not exactly possible when it is my paycheck that covers the mortgage. Sigh.

I used to be of the "Women can have it all" camp. Well, maybe I should say that I guess I mostly still am.

Except maybe I can't?

I know some women are able to excel at work and come home to excel there, too. It has become clear that I am not one of those women. I know my reality.

There is only so much of me to go around. It's a shocking realization for me and something my perfectionist personality struggles with on a daily basis.

I can only do so much.

Better yet...

I can only do so much.

I am no superwoman for sure.

If I give my all at work, I am damn tired when I get home. I end up feeling like I am cheating my boys.

They deserve more than that.

So I keep going, trying to make up for lost time with them, and ultimately leave little for myself, not to mention Is.aac.

I just can't keep that up for very long. Something always has to give. When you are surrounded by kids all day, there just isn't any good place for that giving to happen. Sadly, it ends up being my family who suffers.

Or is it only me?

If it didn't tear at me that I was losing all of this precious time with them while they are young, maybe I would feel more at ease?

I do hope that once the year gets started I'll get more excited about being there.

I love what I do. Really.

But I think I'd just love staying home more. And if you knew me, you would probably be surprised that I would ever say that.

It surprises me, actually.

Before I Had Kids

(Reposted from my family blog)

I judged.

There. I said it. I suppose I have to be honest here.

I judged those crazy parents and their crazy kids and vowed I'd NEVER be a parent like that. My kids are going to be perfect is what I'd tell myself. (And they are! Don't get me wrong. At least I was right about that.)

I bet if we are all honest, we can all say we judge how others do things to some degree. Come on...be honest. :-)

My kids would never eat that processed crap they sell at the store.

And yet they did. My motto became whatever they'll eat is wonderful, just eat!

My kids would never throw a tantrum like THOSE kids in the middle of the store.

And they have. Thankfully it was just once that I remember, which is still pretty good considering that we have three potential time bombs on our hands. We are fortunate that they are pretty decently behaved in public.

There are a few more gems that I vowed never to do. I have of course seen the cold, sometimes harsh light of reality. With kids, it all sort of becomes fair game. You just do what you gotta do.

I laugh in the face of the old me!

Take bribery for instance. The pre kids me vowed I'd never bribe my kids. Oh, no. My little angels would just do whatever I asked out of the goodness of their hearts. We wouldn't need bribery. For a while, I didn't. But I didn't realize how EFFECTIVE and EFFICIENT bribery is in the parent's arsenal of tricks. Once I learned that, it crept in ever so slowly.

Eat all your sandwich, and I'll give you more chips.

If you're very good, then we can go to the store.

You know, stuff like that.

That is until our family met our biggest foe thus far...........

The Potty. (I imagine "dum, dum, dummmmm" playing in the background every time I hear that word. Potty. There it went again. Did you hear it?)

Potty training has been quite the experience. The boys got their first potties over a year ago. I was all bight eyed and optimistic that the boys would potty train easily. Ha. For the longest time, neither boy wanted anywhere near the potty for anything other than storing their cars in them.

Then the bribery started.

Sit on the potty for 10 seconds and you get some jellybeans. Okay, that worked, but the boys would only do said sitting with all of their clothes on, which as I am sure you are aware DEFEATS THE PURPOSE OF SITTING ON THE POTTY. Still, I soldiered on, wanting them to at least get over their fear.



Santa was kind enough to bring them some undies in their stockings this last Christmas.

The boys would have none of that. Sigh.

Then I got all professional and went all teachery. I broke out the charts. I moved to the big guns. Pee on the potty and get jellybeans AND a sticker! 5 stickers and YOU GET A PRIZE!

The boys insisted that mommy and daddy got a chart too. Ok, no problem. Except only mommy and daddy ever got any stickers. We were earning prizes left and right.

The boys?

Not so much.

They stopped being interested in the jellybeans. No one had yet earned a sticker. And no, there was no pee in the potty from them either.

Today, I got smart. I went for the cannon. Pee or poop on the potty and get a matchbox car. Ja.son heard that, and his interest was definitely peaked. When I pulled out the cars for him to look at, I had him.

He got on the potty. Nothing. He admired the cars he wanted. Nothing. I gave him TWO glasses of water. Nothing. I turned on the water. Nothing.

He was done and wanted down. He also cried and threw a fit because he didn't get his car. Off he went to console himself in the living room. Not ten seconds later, he started again with I want a caaaaaaarrrrrrr!!!! I asked him if he needed to get on the potty.

Why yes, yes he did!

"Here it comes!" he said. Voila! He earned a car! He earned a sticker! He asked for some jellybeans, so I threw that in there, too! Woohoo!

He later added another sticker for pooping in the potty after this!

Now, I am a smart girl. I can see that this getting a matchbox car every time you get on the potty is going to get expensive. But you know what, I'm not thinking about that right now.

My boy is finally peeing on the potty. That is what matters here! (And woohoo! One less diaper to change. Yippee!)

---

Part 2 (reposted from the family blog)

So.

The little man is smart, see. He figured out my game. He used the potty like a CHAMP until he had "earned" all of the cars that he liked. And then...nothing. He could not/would not be persuaded to get back on that potty if his life depended on it.

Undies were out of vogue. You'd think that pull ups had turned into some sort of toxic waste if you heard him bellow.

I worried I was going to do more harm than good, (plus I went back to work), so I dropped it.

Mommy - 0
Ja.son - 1

Touché, little man. Touché.

If there's one thing I know, though, it's that I am smarter than a 3 year old. I am going to beat him at his own game. Think he can play me, does he? Oh yeah?

Off to Target we went. I let the boy pick his favorite (cheap) cars. I let him hold them while we were in the store. I let him carry them in his lap on the way home. I let him bring them into the house. Then I took them away. Ahem.

Crying ensued. I told him he could have them back, one at a time, when he used the potty.

His reply? "But I need more pee pee to get my cars. I don't have enough!"

That boy has been on the potty left and right since we got home.

Lol.

Mommy - 1
Ja.son - 1

Stay tuned...