Backseat parenting at its worst

This video has been going around and it's very popular, having been viewed nearly 10 million times at this point.

It is the private moment of a boy who looks to be about nine years old, totally freaking the fuck out.

His seatbelt is off, he's screaming and kicking, repeating "I don't want to go". Meanwhile, his mother is driving on, as calmly as they can. It sounds, in the video, as if she says at one point that they are going to therapy.

The video itself is a mess, an affront to individual privacy of a family, or more a child (since the passenger in the vehicle recorded it, and then the mother laughs about it being uploaded...which it then was).

On one level, I understand the taking of the video. My kids can freak out like that (although not often, thank God). But I've had them throw themselves off doctor's cots and split their knees open in a clinic setting while screaming their heads off in a tantrum. I've had to cancel Halloween. I certainly am no stranger to getting my back kicked in when my children are at their worst and we're driving somewhere. They are always strapped in, though. I will stop the damn car and yell at them until they buckle those belts back up. But can I judge someone else for not doing that? Maybe she just couldn't anymore. I don't know her life. My kids once OPENED the door as we were driving, and when I locked them again, they unlocked them to attempt to do it again before they used the brains in their heads and freaking stopped that nonsense.

The point is, I consider my kids to be neurotypical if incredibly spirited. I might be wrong. Time will tell, but as far as being able to function on a daily basis, they do just fine. But they can throw a tantrum like the one in this video at the drop of a hat.

Would I want 10 million internet strangers telling me to spank, whup, or crack my kids' asses? Nope. Would I want them talking about what a horrible parent I was and what a merciless brat I'd raised? Nope. Would I want to be the catalyst for 10 million huge jerks to wax poetic about how they were raised...on the end of a wooden spoon? Definitely not.

This mother was not setting herself for a crash course in internet troll parenting, and yet, with the video uploaded and shared, what else could have possibly happened? That is a family at its lowest moment. And so, the child aside, I would beg everyone just sit the fuck down. Not your monkey. Not your circus.

Now let's get to the main point of this post, though, and that is that this child's privacy has been violated for life. What was a 10-minute lapse of judgement on his part (assuming he is neurotypical), or a flare up of a condition over which he has no control, is now an unending stream of video which will follow him when he's 12, 16, 25, 50. That video is forever. And so are the comments ridiculing him, mocking him, and criticizing him. Is that an appropriate punishment for his behavior?

No.

Is that an appropriate punishment for ANY behavior?

No.

So a couple take-home messages here:

To the parents of that child: Never, ever, ever upload videos like that of your children. You never know what is going to go viral. So many times only your closest friends and confidantes take a look, but then there are times like this, when the internet catches on and spreads it around as if it were not your living, breathing child on the screen. As if it were not your parenting choices on display in public. As if you were two-dimensional, fictional creatures. But you are not, and he is not. Think twice.

To the internet commenters: Shut up. You don't know their life. Yes, that belt absolutely should have been strapped. Any other comment you have about beating children or what a brat the child is? Save it. You do not know what is going on there. You don't know what that child or those parents are actually dealing with. You've seen 90 seconds of someone's worst. If you really have to feel superior about that, you are a small, sad person.

To the child: I am so sorry. Most likely this will get buried in the Internet archives and no one will dig it up when you're applying to colleges. Anyway, calming down would be rad, but if you can't or you just didn't that one time, no biggie. All we can do is try again, right? Tomorrow is another day, no matter what the internet says.

On actually being a parent

Parenting can be pretty hard for me. I worked tirelessly for three years (when the girls were 2-5), entertaining them, teaching them how to use the bathroom, how to eat and drink, how to wipe, how to make their beds. I played with them endlessly. From getting their balls that rolled under the couch, to building lego towers, to pretending to be a scary witch who would lock them in a make-believe tower should they be caught. My entire days, for those three years, basically consisted of me staring at their darling little faces. And they needed that.

Then in their fifth year, they gained a little independence. They would go out and play with the neighborhood kids, they could sit still for a 2-hour movie, they could construct hours-long make believe games on their own.

So, they went off to kindergarten and I started grad school. They joined capoeira and I started writing regularly as a freelancer. I published books, I made contacts, I got into publications. At long last! My life was set to begin again! I filled my to-do list with things FOR ME TO DO, cleaning, housework, homework, writing, pitching, publishing, going to the gym. The time we had for interaction dwindled.

And I celebrated!

It's not that I don't like hanging out with my kids, I really do. It's that I had literally put my life on hold to raise them. And I prematurely thought I was done.


And when I found out that I was wrong, I didn't handle it right.

They started misbehaving. Not wanting to be left to their own devices. They still wanted my attention (being only six, after all), and started clamoring for it by fighting, giving me attitude and resuming the tantrums they had thrown as toddlers.

Instead of nipping this in the bud, I rebelled myself, like I also was a petulant child. I'd finally gotten a taste of freedom, a promise of what my life could be. I didn't want to give it up. I had things to do.

So, I grew snappish with them. They'll literally cry for my attention, or poke each other's eyes out, or look at each other or breathe on each other, you know, all the earth-shattering things little kids can do to each other.

They can no longer play nicely. Hell, they can't even watch TV in the same room for more than ten minutes without attempting to kill one another. And instead of nipping these fights in the bud, redirecting them or funneling their energy into a different activity, I grow annoyed. Why can't they play? What is going on? So I break it up in a negative manner, send one or the other to her room for five minutes, then she comes out and they do it again.

I don't enjoy their company, and I don't get anything done. Then I blame them. Then they blame me. And we all live in a hellish mockery of a home.

So, this week, I restructured. After totally losing it about my kids, and my writing, and my school and my stress, and my illnesses (my body has been breaking down all over the place), I took a step back and re-prioritized.

Yes, it's great that I can "work from home" and "be a writer". That is fantastic. It's great my kids can feed themselves and dress themselves and (sometimes) entertain themselves. But they're not ready to be understanding enough to just go do their own thing, and me pushing them to do that without giving guidance will clearly end in tears.

So, I dialed back a bit. In fact, it's 5 p.m. and this blog is the only thing I've written all day. I started it at 10 a.m., and have been able to get in a sentence here and a sentence there. Very reminiscent of when the girls were three, in fact.

I've toned down my efforts in grad school. Maybe I'll only get Cs this semester instead of As. Oh  well.

Because none of that other stuff matters if I can't bring up children who know their boundaries and have the ability to keep themselves busy and happy without needling me or each other.

To get that, I have to do what is counter intuitive and actually spend more time with them, not less.

And really, it's not that much more time since when I'm trying to ignore them because I'm on deadline, I have to spend nearly as much time disciplining them as I spent with them today...only it's all negative.

So, yeah. More time on the kids, not less. But the time must be spent teaching them how to play without me. By playing with them. On paper it makes no sense.

But based on today, it just might work.

And then, maybe in a few more years, I'll be able to write like I want to write. Maybe. Or maybe not.



 

When Kids Can't Connect the Dots

One of my children has the unfortunate habit of screaming like a banshee when something has offended her, or her sister has teased her, or anything has angered or annoyed her in any way. The other one has the unfortunate habit of trying out different forms of insult humor, then throwing a tantrum when no one finds it funny. Then trying to pretend it never happened and opening up new conversation as if she hadn't just skewered her opponent, then crying about it again when her conversation partner isn't ready to move on yet.

Both things happened yesterday, and, at different times, in different situations, I explained to them that sometimes saying sorry is the best way to move forward. If the one's screams have offended all within hearing distance, and she wants to then play, perhaps a simple, "I'm sorry I lost my temper right then," would help pave the way to playtime. If the other snuck in a jab, then wanted to recover because she's embarrassed it wasn't funny, but was instead hurtful, an "I'm sorry I said that about you. I was just trying to be funny, but that was wrong," would probably move everyone along much faster.

But my kids think of apologies as punishment. It brings about a responsibility they don't feel toward their actions until it is uttered. And they don't like that. They don't yet see how apologizing is a necessary, and NICE part of life. That boulders can be moved with sincere apologies, and that those types of apologies make us better people, stronger people, happier people. That an apology is not just to assuage the offended but to offer greater insight to our characters.

Right now, apologies are still "gross". Whatever that means.

Anyway, last night, right before bed, I was able to get a legitimate and heartfelt apology out of the screamer. I felt proud and happy that she seemed to understand what I meant.

Until 7:30 this morning when she called me from my warm bed.

"Mama, I'm sorry I cried and screamed on our special date."

That "date" was a month ago and that "date" was not something to apologize for. In that instance, the screamer was legitimately distressed out of her mind because she was separating from her twin for the first time. At the time, I did everything in my power to comfort and distract her, and we eventually (after hours) had a good separate day.

What kills me about this is that instead of connecting an apology to the annoyance of or mistreatment of someone else, she connected it to her feelings.

I told her that wasn't something she ever needed to apologize for. That her crying in that instance was understandable and right and that she has a right to her very real feeling.

My heart broke though.

Apologize for the time you tantrumed when I didn't give you chocolate, or made you put on your seatbelt or brush your teeth or go to school on time.

Don't apologize for the one time you felt scared and helpless and alone.

...We have some work to do.




 

Kindergarten Kids - Separating the Twins

Problem:

Even though the girls are in different classes in school, and have been for a year now, they still exist in a weird continuum where they don't feel as if they can be a full, unique person. Every decision must be passed through the counsel of the sister, and every treat must be evenly divided. Not one individual thing is allowed to pass, because both twins feel that individual things mean better things. Particularly if they are not at the same time. So, if Dulce wanted an ice cream cone at 3 p.m. but Natalina didn't want one, either they would both have one or neither would have one. Either Natalina would cry about not getting a cone so much that Dulce would decide to forego it, or Dulce would badger Natalina so much that Natalina would decide to eat one. Either way, they would not, of their own free choice, do something different. So much so that if one gets one extra bite of graham cracker in the morning, she will throw it away. (This JUST happened). Or if one gets a candy while the other is sleeping or otherwise engaged, she will tell her twin immediately after she sees her again, so her twin can collect her prize.

It's weird. And it's hard to navigate.



Solution:

My friends have been telling me for literally years that I have to take my children out separately. It's been impossible to pull off. My husband works until 8 p.m. every day, and on the weekends, we like to do things as a family.

Today, we are going to take the girls out separately.

And already I'm plagued with, 'what if one of us does something the girls deem 'more fun' at their outing than the other? How can we keep this as even as possible? Should my husband and I talk about this, plan where we're going, come up with ways to prevent tantrums? Each of us do the same number of activities during the outing? Leave and return at the exact same time?

It's taking everything in me to NOT do these things. I will not. We are going to take our kids out separately like regular people take their kids out separately.

In order for this to work, I must not cater to their instinct to compare at all. Otherwise it will just become another instance of strange twin equality competition. And we will have wasted our day.

The goal is for them to be able to have a Saturday when they are older, where one goes swimming at a friend's house, and the other stays home reading or goes to the movies with her buddies. End. Like it's a normal and okay thing to do.

Because right now, as we sit in this house today, that scenario is an utter impossibility.


 

How much have I messed my kids up?

I want my children to reason like adults, and this is causing my entire family endless stress. One of them is full of attitude and contempt right now, and trying purposefully to upset me, so that from sun up to sun down, I must be in battle mode to make it through the day. She lobs bombs and shoots gunfire my way, and will sneak in at least a half dozen ambush attacks where she starts a normal conversation or shows a sweetness, only to lure me in before turning the whole scene into a mess of negativity.

And when this happens, I first react calmly. I tell her what she must do and I make her do it. But eventually, I lose it, and I shout. Sometimes I bully her into doing what she should be doing. The next phase is reasoning and explaining, where I tell her my side, then ask her about her side, and try to figure out, or get her to figure out, what her deal is.

None of this works, obviously.

As parents, we're supposed to be calm, inflappable, upholding the rules because they are rules. Not letting emotions in. Not making it a bigger deal than it is. Either put your pants on and go to camp, or don't and stay home. Why isn't it that easy when I'm not typing? One is that I have twins, and I can't just keep punishing one for the other's behavior, but it's more than that. I want them to do the right thing because it's the right thing. I want them to be able to tell when it's wrong and bring good, solid points to the table as to why it should be another way. I want them to feel like their feelings are valid.

I do not want them to call me stupid, throw things at me, or willfully disobey me.

But I've got both.

And what's messing me up is myself. I'm SCARED I'm messing them up. If one is acting out because I'm spoiling her and letting her do what she wants whenever, then I have to crack down.

But if she's acting out because she's craving loving attention from me (and she DOES need a lot of loving attention which she has been foregoing to do this crap), then cracking down on her will only prove to her that I don't love her? But should she need such explicit validation all the time? But if I stop hearing her out, will she decide she's totally unimportant?

How much have I messed my kids up, is the question, to be honest. And what the hell do I do.





 

Kindergarten Kids: Will they kill each other

Problem: 

My girls have no problem solving skills and will escalate any tiny issue to screaming and crying which results in two five year olds screaming angrily at each other multiple times a day. In fact, some days you wonder how they have time for anything else.

I never reward them for this. Sometimes I discipline them, I always separate them, but I've realized that my kids look at this as a resolution to their nonexistent problem and so continue to operate in this infuriating way because, to them, in this twisted way, it's working.

So the question remains: Will they kill each other if left together in a room to duke out every single time this happens?

Solution:

Stay the hell tuned. I'll let you all know.

Because I have seriously had it with these shenanigans.

MAY THE STRONGEST BABY WIN.

THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE.





 

The Pulley of Twins

Let me weave for you the story of my morning:


The twins wake up. Dulce wakes Natalina up, which means Dulce starts out in the good mood, Natalina the bad.

Knowing that a calm, helpful mood earns happy parents, Dulce capitalizes on this. She eats her breakfast without complaint, gives me hugs, and is generally chipper and easy going. Natalina cries about wanting to go back to bed (which is an option she could have taken), cries about eating breakfast, calls us all mean, and is generally ornery.

This goes on for an hour.

Then, Dulce finds a little plastic puppy she'd painted yesterday. The paint had somehow gotten messed up. She freaks out, throws herself on the ground (by the way, these instances are a lot rarer these days. Most of the time, my kids are actually human beings at this point. It's glorious.) Anyway, I send her to her room to calm down, where she continues to be inconsolable. I turn to Lilly.

Who has miraculously transformed from cranky, pissed-off child to happy-go-lucky, compliant girl. She even offers to take the mistake dog instead of Dulce and attempt to repaint it. (Unheard of). She cheerily got dressed and made her bed. Because Dulce was crying.

And when something happens and Natalina starts tantruming, the pulley will shift again.

In this way, I perpetually have one "good" kid, and one "bad" kid.

Which is better on the face of it than two tantruming kids, but underneath, not so much. It speaks to a larger issue with my twins. Their perpetual, frustrating, maddening competition with each other.

Every single thing they do is only to outshine the other. Every single thing that happens is an accolade for one and a slight for the other. They spend nearly all their mental energy thinking about their twin and whether she is in a better position than the first.

And there are no positions in our house. My husband and I make it clear we don't care about the she-said/she-said crap. We don't favor anyone or anything. We have no idea why it is like this. We work to fix it by repeating that they are different girls and that it is not a competition. To limited success.

Twins. I just don't know about them.

On Mayhem, Meltdowns and Mood Swings -- Guest Post

Jerry Kennedy, stepdude and writer at Choosing the Truth, is here talking about the inherent moodiness of the children, in a way in which we all can only nod our heads in resignation...and then joy. Thanks, Jerry!

...

Shortly after I first moved in with my then girlfriend (now fiancee) and her 4-year-old son, I told her that living with a child was an awful lot like living with a bipolar paranoid schizophrenic suffering from multiple personality disorder and delusions of grandeur; two and half years in, I still think that’s a pretty accurate comparison.

Don’t get me wrong: the Monkey is a delightful little human being, capable of melting your heart with his sweet smile and his infectious giggle. It’s just that he’s prone to the occasional sudden change of temperament. And by “sudden”, I mean he can change moods faster than Clark Kent can exit a grungy phone booth in blue tights and a cape.

Apparently, he’s not alone. When I’ve shared my observation with other parents, they always kind of nod and get the far-off look of a shell-shocked POW. It turns out that most children go through these periods of, shall we say, difficulty? Call me naive, but this was kind of a surprise to me. As a childless person (and therefore clearly an expert on parenting), I’d always assumed that kids who acted out were the result of bad parents; or if not “bad parents,” at best well-intentioned parents who lacked good parenting skills.




It’s okay; go ahead and laugh now. I deserve it. In my child-free cocoon, I would look at parents and say things like “If only they would say no to that child every now and then, they wouldn’t have this little monster on their hands.” Yeah...I was that guy. As I quickly learned, though, this parenting shit is hard. I mean really hard. Like “doing a Rubik’s Cube while juggling chainsaws on a tightrope suspended over a pit of hungry crocodiles” levels of hard. And that’s on a good day.

But they’re not all good days, are they? Sometimes, our days are not so good. Sometimes, our days are pretty freakin’ bad. And sometimes, when the Moon is in the seventh house and Mercury is in retrograde, we’re get the pleasure of the meltdowns. Jumping Jesus on a pogostick, the meltdowns.

I’ll never forget standing on the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk with the Monkey while his mom went to ride the Giant Dipper and having him screaming at the top of his lungs at me for literally five minutes. To the point that he was starting to hyperventilate and turn red in the face. To the point that I was starting to worry that people were going to call security to come and rescue this poor child who I was clearly torturing with hot irons. And all because I wouldn’t let him have a root beer...or something. I’m still not entirely clear on what it was all about. I finally ended up calling Cricket; she jumped out of line, rescued me from my stuttering and blundering, and that was the end of our day. We’d only been there an hour (Santa Cruz is a three hour drive from home) and we were going home.

Here’s the clincher, though: on the walk back to the car, the tiny demon immediately resumed human form and wanted to know if we’d be coming back to the Boardwalk later in the day so that he could ride some more of the rides, and also could he have some ice cream. W. T. F?

I’m learning, though. Where once I was a terrified, uncertain, semi-adult person, I’m now a slightly less terrified, almost not quite certain, bordering on being a grown up person; and I owe it all to Douglas Adams and the art, or rather knack, to flying. Adams says that the knack to flying is in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss. The real trick, he says is in having your attention suddenly distracted at the exact moment you’re about to hit the ground.

When this bit of advice first popped into my head with regard to my parenting technique, I thought that it meant I needed to distract the Monkey immediately before the tantrum started. I tried that, and it worked spectacularly. I’d tell him no, he couldn’t conduct an experiment involving enriched plutonium, see the familiar twitch of an oncoming meltdown, and immediately burst into a silly song or ask him if the moon is really made from elephant boogers; if I timed it right, he’d completely forget about the plutonium and we’d be on the path to Crisis Averted City. Thank you Mr. Adams!

But as I get a little more comfortable in my parent skin, I think Douglas had a bigger, much more important message for me. I’m finding that as I travel the Step Dude Path, I often trip on one of the many obstacles along the way and, in a sense, throw myself at the ground. It’s not very often that I miss, and I spend a lot of time nursing those bruises. Every now and then, though, I get distracted just before the inevitable crash; a silly giggle, a toothless smile, or an unexpected Father’s Day present...and suddenly I’m flying.

 

Ridiculous Parent-Child Dialogues

There are a lot of things that irk me about the parenting advice world, but nothing quite ticks me off like the inane, complicated, Danny-Tanner-esque conversations all these multitudes of parents are apparently having with their children.

And never in these novel-length, concerned-but-kind talks, do the authors give any indication of the complete lack of fucks given by the children being spoken at.

I mean, you read this shit in a book, or hear it on audio, and you picture an ever diligent, soft-spoken mother, leaning over her heretofore tantrumming child (who now appears to be totally calm and involved in the conversation, listening, nodding, you name it), and spouting out joyous paragraphs of wisdom and light--about decency, humanity, love, apology.

We learn that these parents aren't perfect. They have to atone for their lapses in judgement. We learn that even when they lose it, and yell, they come back to their corner of calm, and their kid is apparently totally down for listening to every drippingly caring word that comes next out of their faceholes.

We never are told that in reality, mom is shouting these words to be heard over a child rolling her eyes, stomping her feet and humming. That the kid immediately turns around to the television (which in parenting book land is never on, but come on) and ignores these frosting-coated life lessons. We never see the kid interrupt the grand gesture to explain her side of the story yet again. We never see that the parent could possibly be saying all these things (which they're not), but the kid isn't hearing it.

I cannot with this. Enough. When I pick up a parenting book, I need help. I already know how to wax parenting poetical on my children about how everything would be in an ideal world, I don't need your made-up garbage dialogue. I need to know what you REALLY do.

With that in mind, here are my favorite pseudo-conversations, word for word, from a parenting book I just read.

In a situation where a child was rude and was not allowed to go to her friends party, this book says, no, let the child go to the party because it has nothing to do with the rudeness. Conversation:

"We would talk about it, addressing your rudeness right then and there."
"You mean like the other day when I slammed my bedroom door because I was mad at you, and we talked about it, and I wrote about it in my journal?"

Yes. I'm sure that's what happened. That's always how those talks go in my house.

On lasagna a child refused to eat:

"You know, make you ____, mommy did try to make you something you would like."
"I know you did, mommy. Thank you. But next time don't try so hard. I like all my vegetable separate, not together in a lasagna."

Yes, my children often tell me not to try so hard to please them. This is totally realistic.

During a penmanship lesson:

"That's so mean, mommy. I was really trying my hardest. It hurts me that you don't like my handwriting."
"Thank you for sharing your feelings. You don't have to change your handwriting if yo essence u don't want to. The more important thing for you to realize is that your handwriting is not ____. Your hair is not ____. Your clothes are not _____. Your face is not _____. Your grades are not _____. None of these are ____. You are more than any of this, beyond all beautiful, which is your essence. This essence can never be ugly, stupid, or inferior. It's always fine just as it is. So if I, or your teacher, or another kid tells you your hair is ugly, or your handwriting is sloppy, remember that since it's not the real you, and only a temporary way of expressing yourself, it doesn't define you. Perhaps then it won't be so hurtful anymore if I suggest you might want to write in your usual neat way. But I leave that up to you."

Kid is probably like...what the hell just happened? I fell asleep two sentences into that.

When a child doesn't do the dishes or some other thing she's been told to do:

"Is there some reason you can't fulfill my request? I need you to honor what I'm asking and put the dishes away."

Oh. Okay.

What to say instead of "you can be anything you want to be":

"If you are simply yourself, instead of copying another person or trying to be what someone else thinks you should be, you will find a way to express who you are in the world. By just being you, you will create a path for your life that's not only realistic, but that honors who you are."

Sigh. Okay. But that's for books when the kids are old enough to absorb that information and actually seek it out. Right now, can we just stick with, 'you can be anything you want to be?'

I'm just...these are only a very few of the long, convoluted conversations parents everywhere are supposedly having with their children. Just not me.



 

My Five Year Old Is NOT a "Strong Leader"

As I walked with my children to school an hour ago, in between paying exactly equal attention and lavishing exactly equal praise to my twins so that they would remain in a human-like mood at least until we got to the big doors, I readied myself for a talk I needed to have with one of the girls' teachers.

As anyone who knows us knows, my girls are scare-quote spirited. We'd been coming off a long stretch of normality, where the girls would play together nicely for hours, accept reality as it came their way, and just generally showed a maturity I knew was too good to last.

But this past week has been an abomination.

There are lots of reasons for this. 1) School is drawing to a close, so their schedules during the school day have been disrupted with activities they are unused to. 2) The dentist told them they needed to stop sucking their thumbs, which, until this point, had been a major source of comfort and security to them. And my kids? They've wills of steel. They stopped that day and have not put their thumbs in their mouths since. I, as an adult, cannot fathom this. I've been trying to stop biting my nails for 29 years. HOOOOOOOOW? They just did it. I don't even know. 3) They've been fighting off an illness, which always makes for a rough go of things.

But there is a new culprit in the mix, and one I'm just not ready to face (although I did and I will).

The influences of other kids at school.

Yesterday, one of my daughters tantrumed for a full three hours. Ninety minutes over a lollipop that she picked out and ninety minutes out of just general malaise. It may have been my hardest day as a parent yet.

When pressed, one particular little girl, Natalina's partner for the school play, and the girl she now sits next to (that was a change from the previous month), kept coming up. M eats blood. M doesn't listen to anyone. M doesn't like me. M says mean things all the time. M likes me now and invited me to the "popular girls club" (INSERT MOM RAGE). M never does what she's told. She doesn't have to. M squeezes her hand hard to hurt her during play practice. M thinks she's a tattle tale. M, M, M, M.

So, I suited up.

In my I-mean-business trench coat and my paper-plate necklace, I prepared my talk in my head to the teacher.

When I got there, though, the tone of the talk surprised me.

"Hi, Mrs. G, I'd like to ask you about M."

She nods, knowingly.

"Okay, good, so you know what I'm talking about. What's up with that?"

She took a moment. "We have lots of trouble with M. Has she said anything ugly to your child?"

"Well, kind of," I replied. "They're partners in the play and I know Lilly sits next to her now. We're having some behavior issues at home, and I know you had to send L to the office the other day for attitude. I was just wondering if you could move her back to sit next to G?"

She hesitated again. Now, this is a longterm substitute. Natalina's teacher had a baby, and left just a few months ago, if that.

Her old teacher knew that N has trouble finishing assignments, and needs a good example to follow. N picks up on cues really easily, so when paired with G for so long, she began finishing assignments and setting a good example for others.

N picks up on cues really easily.

So, when Mrs. G told me that Natalina was a "strong leader" and she needed to "keep a good kid at each table" and mine was "one of the good kids", while my heart filled with pride (and recognition...they used to do this to me in school, too), I knew it was all wrong.

My child is not a strong leader.

And that's okay. She will be. I have no doubt. But she's not there yet. The person the substitute thinks my child is, and who my child actually is are two different people.

Natalina picks up on cues really easily.

For now, because I was not expecting that response at all, I let it go. The teacher is going to monitor the situation more closely, and there are only two weeks left of school anyway.

But, in reality, this is only part one of the talk. I need to, now that I know what I'm dealing with, go back in there and get my kid what she needs.

This may well be the one time in my child's life where being thought of as a strong leader will be detrimental to her, but so be it.

My child is not yet a strong leader, and I will defend her malleability as she grows into one. So that one day, perhaps, yes, the teachers will make her the leader of the table of kids who have some trouble.

Today is not that day.

Today she is just learning how to overcome her own trouble.

This is a crossroads. An important one. These kinds of events could determine how my daughter deals with outside influences for the rest of her life. So, for now, I've instructed her to be nice to everyone, including M, but to know that she needs to do the right thing, always, and not follow along if she sees M behaving inappropriately. That whether or not M likes her bears no consequence on her life.

God, I hope it sticks.







 

Kindergarten Kids - On Parenting Books

Problem:

The twin that is usually the more reasonable twin has been acting out in a big way this past week. As always happens after they've been behaved for a stint, the sudden pushbacks, non-stop attitude, and tantrums throw me off-guard and I immediately forget that we just had three months of normalcy. I immediately think, Oh, God. What am I doing wrong.

And with that thought comes the parenting books, with that thought comes the Internet searches. Because I want this to stop and I feel the need to change my behavior to make it stop. I automatically discount growing and learning, and want the torture to cease.

This time around, I chose to look into Calm Parenting. Because I am NOT a calm parent. I do yell. When they're behaving, this is not a big deal. And when they've been misbehaving for a week, it's actually also not a big deal because I've acclimated to the current normal. But during the switch from good behavior to bad, all of a sudden, I'm yelling all the time. Because I'm flustered and don't know what to do, and what the hell is even happening?

And of course, I want to not yell all day.

But, it turns out, calm parenting may not be for me.

Because I simply cannot do it. At least not all in all at once.


Solution:

As with anything, you have to take what you can use and leave the rest.

I absolutely cannot leave my children's lives and decisions in their own hands, allowing them to "discover their authentic selves, all by themselves." I will discipline my kids. The books say this won't allow them to learn to self-discipline, but I disagree. At this age, they CANNOT self-discipline and it is unfair to ask them to do so with no barometer in place. Right now, I'm still them and they're still me in their eyes. Therefore, I am their SELF-discipline. If I am loving and keep the emphasis on the actions not the person, they will learn which behaviors they need to self-monitor at a later time.

These books and articles I've read encourage "not pushing your agenda or ego" on your child, and allowing them full space to live their own lives. At three? That's bordering on cruel to the kid, I think. Talk about confusion. They're not ready! That's why parents are there, no? To help a child mold her internal monologue so that she actually has something to fall back on that has been consistently presented to her. We are the inner core, we are the voice, we are the moral values. To NOT be that is to ask your child to parent herself at a really young age.

There's being empathetic and not bullying and making your child feel heard and respected, but that can all be done within the boundaries we set in our home.

...

And I've got a whole other post planned about the "example dialogues" these pieces present. Oh. My. God. Stop.







 

Kindergarten Kids - What to Do about the Damn Phone

Problem:

Your kids could be silently behaving for hours on end, playing nicely, giggling, leaving you in utter peace and quiet, giving you the most idyllic of days.

Then their Spidey sense activates. You've taken out the phone and put it to your ear somewhere in the house.

Tantrum Engage! Suddenly, the only thing they can think to do is maul each other, screaming and crying the whole time. There's toy throwing, there's inconsolable sobbing, there's the inevitable child following you around looking for justice... "MOM, SHE _______ ME!"

Meanwhile, you just wish you had a kid-sized fly swatter. Why do they do this? Not only is it annoying to the tech person, teacher, interviewee (I'm a journalist), or anyone on the other end, it's mortifying.

I mean, is it their main goal in life to make me look like the worst parent ever at all times?!

Solution:

There are a couple different ways you can go.

First, you can try telling them to stop. It won't work (probably) but you've got to keep that hope alive, right? I mean, maybe today's the day!

When that doesn't work, put yourself in another room. Lock the door if you must (my kids are five, so that's okay for me to do). Usually, of course, they'll hang right outside the door, screaming into it.

If that is the case, tell the person on the other end to hold on. Put them on mute to spare them as you go into the battlefield. Discipline your kids in the manner of a crazy person who's just been humiliated in front of some stranger they need help from. Put kids in room. Go outside. Walk a bit away from the house. Apologize to other party on the phone and quickly finish up.

The most important part of this happens after the phone call. My kids are actually finally getting better about phone calls after months of me doing this.

After it's over, go and talk to your kids calmly. Tell them the behavior is unacceptable and sometimes you are going to be on the phone and that you expect them to act appropriately when you are. This isn't going to work, of course, but after millions of repetitions of the same thing, it seems the kids are starting to get an inkling that the phone is not their enemy and they can just chill out when you're on it.

If you always do the same thing (I always go outside to the front porch when the call is important and verbally cue them that I am on a phone call and I'll be back in a minute) they get used to it via pattern recognition and do even better at laying off.

Alternately, never use the phone again.

GOOD LUCK.


 

Moving on When Gentle Discipline Goes Wrong

When it comes to attachment parenting, I'm usually in the dark. Thankfully, we have Joella on board from Fine and Fair who consistently sheds some light on the topic in a warm and caring way! In case, she tackles the ever-difficult gentle discipline, and goes one step further. What do you do when you've lost your temper and you're an attachment parent?

...

For most who practice what is known as "Attachment Parenting," gentle discipline is a given. Eschewing spankings, and for some, avoiding all forms of punitive discipline, means drawing from Saint-like stores of patience, calm, and understanding in the face of typical child-like behavior and tantrums.

I am just such a parent, and I have no such stores. Balancing my parenting style with an emotionally draining career and other responsibilities sometimes leaves my wells a little dry. There are excellent articles out there on how to work toward being a more gentle parent, or how to avoid yelling, or providing alternatives to punitive discipline. Unfortunately, sometimes in the heat of the moment, the tips and tricks in those articles escape me, and I find myself yelling, threatening, and otherwise conducting myself in a manner that is not, by any stretch of the imagination, gentle.

I've chosen to seize these missteps as opportunities to model grace in admitting my mistakes and asking for forgiveness. I am human. My children are human. We share a tendency toward imperfection. My children are going to make mistakes in their lives. They are going to lash out at others in anger or frustration. They are going to say and do things they regret to people they love and respect. By responding appropriately to my own mistakes, I set an example for how to appropriately respond to personal mistakes in general.

So, what's an attached parent to do, following a gentle discipline blunder?

1. Take time to collect yourself. In my case, my daughter is old enough that I can tell her that I need to take some time to calm down, and she will often give me that space. That's not always the case when she's in mid-tantrum and my reaction has escalated it, so if it's safe to do so, I will simply leave the room for a few moments to calm down before proceeding. I take that time to practice deep breathing or a mindfulness exercise, and to repeat affirmations to myself: "I am a gentle parent. I respond to my child with sensitivity and respect, even when it is difficult. I model kindness and grace."

2. Apologize. Apologize for your actions, not for your feelings. Uncomfortable emotions (anger, annoyance, frustration, etc.) are normal and natural, and you shouldn't apologize for being upset with your child. Apologize instead for your behavior. By affirming the feelings that led to your behavior, you do not negate the fact that your child's behavior warranted guidance or correction. Focus on your behavior and what you could have done differently to demonstrate that a big part of this whole discipline thing is learning which behaviors are appropriate and which are not. Example: "I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was upset that you hit your brother, but I shouldn't have yelled. I should have talked to you calmly."

3. Ask forgiveness. Following your apology, simply ask for forgiveness. Your child may follow suit and ask for your forgiveness, too. If he doesn't, model that expectation by saying that you forgive him. "Thank you for forgiving me for yelling at you. I forgive you for hitting your brother."

4. Engage your child in avoiding a repeat. If your child is invested in the problem solving and planning process, he is more likely to follow through with your plans for preventing a repeat blunder. Consider what each of you could have done differently in the situation, and plan specific ways to avoid your problem behaviors in the future. Agree to remind each other if you notice each other engaging in the behavior (yelling, hitting, etc.). One of my favorite tried and true ideas came from this post by Creative with Kids. My 4 year old and I sat down together and cut out a stack of hearts from pink construction paper. I explained that the hearts represent our agreement to treat each other with love and respect, even when we are upset. We agreed to give each other a pink heart if we noticed the other starting to lose our temper. It worked like a dream! My child felt empowered to intervene if I started to lose my cool, and her asking me assertively if I needed a pink heart was always enough to remind me to take some deep breaths and proceed calmly.

5. Explore and affirm your child's emotions. Take the time to process the interaction with your child in an age appropriate way. If you don't have time to do this in the moment, do it as soon as possible. She may have been frightened, confused, startled, or all three! Talking about her feelings accomplishes two things. First, it shows that you care for her feelings and that the feelings she experienced are valid. Second, it helps her name her emotions and gives her an opening to explore appropriate ways to express them.

A gentle discipline blunder can be overwhelming and upsetting to everyone involved, but when handled appropriately, it can open the door to improved communication, emotional intelligence, grace, understanding, and forgiveness.

...

Don't forget to check out Fine and Fair for more natural parenting tips, or take a look at our AP Style for our best instinctive parenting ideas.


 

Parenting Twins: A Narrative

Dulce and Natalina want to watch a show.

During a commercial, I tell them to get dressed for bed.

They want the same nightie. It belongs to Dulce. In a rare show of possessiveness, Dulce (who usually just gives Lilly what she wants) insists on wearing it.

It goes to Dulce.

Lilly throws epic tantrum.

She's sent to her room, no show.

Dulce freaks out. Makes Lilly come out and apologize to me.

I accept on the condition that she stop crying and get dressed in her other nightie. She starts crying again.

Goes back to her room.

Dulce freaks out again, missing a significant portion of the show because Lilly can't watch it. Finally, caves and gives Lilly her nightie.

But I say no. I tell Dulce that teaches Lilly she can cry for 20 minutes and then get what she wants.

Dulce throws a tantrum because she is opting to miss the show rather than watch it without Lilly, and me giving her her own nightie is somehow my fault and the worst thing ever.

The End.
...

Twenty minutes later though, they've turned back into this:

Which is why I still keep them around.




 

No Means No

My twins are only five years old, but that doesn't mean I'm in any way smarter than they are. In fact, most days, it feels like quite the opposite.

See, I'm not so good at the "because I said so" line. I always hated it when I was a kid, and I went into this whole mom thing having made the conscious decision that I was never going to do that to my children.

I was wrong.

I was so wrong.

Part of the problem, of course, as I mentioned laughingly to a friend before I had to carry my kicking and screaming five year old off the playground about an hour later (because that's totally not embarrassing at all, by the way...or and in before you say "it's your own dumbass fault." I KNOW. Hence, post. Right?), anyway, like I mentioned to her, it's because I have too much respect for my kids.

I know, I know, gasp! How could you ever have too much respect for your kids? Especially you, Darlena, I mean, you yell at them all the time! That's not respect!

Okay, but bear with me.

Let me rephrase. I hold my children up to expectations I would have of an adult. Not in obvious ways, because I can tell they're five. No, in more...ingrained ways. It's hard to explain.

Basically, I expect my kids to think like I do when things are going in a normal way on a normal day. I project my sensibilities on them, so that when I say something like, let's leave the playground, and then they say no, and then I say yes, and then they get upset and tantrum (just a little, we're getting to the big ones, just wait), and then I tell them to calm down we're leaving either way, and then they do calm down for a half second and ask me if they can do one more thing...I will say yes.

Here's why:

I think, "It's time to leave, I should tell them it's time to leave, oh, they didn't like that, well, that's normal, kids don't like to leave fun places, I'll tell them again nicely, oh crap, they're crying, WHY DO THEY CRY? This is normal life, it's not like we didn't leave 10 billion places yesterday, too. Why aren't they getting that? I would get that. I'll tell them sternly to calm down, that's what moms do. Oh, look! They did calm down. And they want to do one more thing. Well, since they were able to calm down so nicely, and they're behaving now, and they clearly understood the message that we have to leave like, you know, people would understand that, I could let them do one more thing. Then we'll all skip home lalala, and everything will be wonderful."

Because I think that my kids understand things.

I do this a lot. Because I do this a lot, my kids have been trained to think this about the above situation:

"Crap, mom told us we have to leave. We don't want to leave. OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMG DON'T WANT TO LEAVE WAT DO? I know! I'll say no. That will very clearly show her my stance on this matter. What? Why did she tell us to leave again? Can't she hear me? OMGOMGOMG EMOTION FEELS CANNOT WON'T LEAVE. Also, maybe she'll cave if I cry. She never caves if I cry. No, you silly! It's after you cry that she caves. Just watch. Okay, crying. Oh. Here it is, she's telling me to calm down. Let's try that first, if it doesn't work, then we lose our shit, okay? Okay. Great! It worked! She's letting us stay! Huzzah!"

You see? I think they know I'm letting them stay because they improved their behavior. They know no such thing. What we've got going on is an improvised, slightly longer version of the I'll-cry-until-she-lets-me-have-it error that so many moms are shamed out of existence for.

Well, crap.

Anyway, to round out the story, after the one thing, when it was actually time to go, one of my kids did totally lose her shit, and freaked out not only as I had to carry her to the car, but also the whole ride home and then for about 30 minutes in her room, too.

Aces.

So, what I'm saying, crudely, is I need to have less respect for my kids. But that's not what I'm saying at all. I actually just don't know how to articulate what I'm saying for once. I have to stop giving them the benefit of the doubt? No, that's not it. I have to set clear boundaries and not let them do even one more thing once I've said no.

That's it.

They need the boundaries. Because the way I'm doing it, while it might work for an older child, only serves to make them absolutely miserable, which of course makes me miserable.

I really, really want them to be able to reason, and come up with good points and get rewarded for thinking their way around things. But we're not ready yet. And me forcing that to happen only sets us back. Way back. So, keep it simple, stupid. No means no. No matter what.

Wish me luck.






 

Kindergarten Kids - Putting Emphasis in the Right Place

Problem:

You're doing it wrong. (And by you, I mean me.) As parents, but also people, we tend (and by we, I also mean me) to stack our plates to full. We want to be a great parent, have a clean house, work or go to school or complete individual projects, and all in a timely manner. In this age, we are more and more splintered, devoting mere frames of our attention to any one thing at any one time. And the cool thing is, we're smart enough to be able to do that. We can keep 20 plates spinning at once, without having any of them drop. We can make the deadlines, clean the house, do the work, parent the kids, and socialize with our friends all at once. The only problem is, one of the plates doesn't just want to be spun. It wants you to look at it. Always. It requires your undivided attention. But you don't even know how to give your undivided attention to one thing anymore. So you try to make up for it in other ways. Like engaging in lots of conversation, even while you're doing other things. By listening and allowing debates to occur so that your kids think they are important to you (which they are) and have some semblance of control over their lives. You want them to thrive and make their own decisions, rationally and reasonably.

You remember being a kid. "Because I said so" was a shitty response. You hated it. It was the conversation-ender when your parents were no longer listening to you, when they no longer had time for you. You want your kids to know you always have time for them. That even as your fingers type a sentence for a school assignment, you are listening to them and caring about them.

Wrong.


Solution:

Even though (to me) that kind of engagement shows a caring, loving front, that's not what the kids see. Instead of paying attention to them all day, every day, as you do other things too, you might have to try paying your full and entire attention to them for shorter spurts, then clearly explaining to them (they're five now, you should be able to do this) that you need to work for xx amount of time. Then pay them your complete and full attention again. So instead of a continuous stimulation of halfsies, you'll have to start doing each thing in full, then switching gears.

It's something I'm going to try anyway.

The goal is the same, the emphasis is different.









 

Reasons Moms Might Not Talk to Each Other

Here's how it sometimes feels to be a mom, and why we can't seem to call on our support group of other moms when we most need to.

...

- Everyone else's kids seem perfect. They're so good, quiet, smart, well-behaved. Often your tales of having to drag your spawn out of the grocery store while they screamed bloody murder are met with blank stares.

- Since your kids are only kids, you are betting you are the problem. That's embarrassing.

- There's a possibility your kids might be the problem. And that's a problem.

- Sometimes, other moms will commiserate, but their stories never end up with them locked in the bathroom crying and begging for mercy.

- In this way, those moms are even harder to talk to because they actually deal with the same bullshit you do, and they can hold it together and lovingly nurture their babes, instead of dialing the circus over and over again as they rock back in forth in their bathroom full of tears.

- In the back of your mind, you're sure this is actually a normal, everyday problem and you're just being dramatic. You don't want people to think you think you're special or a mommy martyr or anything.

- In the other back of your mind, you fear this is actually not even close to normal, that no one has to deal with this issue like you do. And you don't want people to know you accidentally gave birth to a sociopath.

- You're the mom, you should know what to do. When you don't know what to do, it should be for cute things, like, which cloth diaper covers are the best for baby skin. If you don't know what to do with your own damn child, you fail. Goodbye.

- You don't want people to know you did the wrong thing. Again.


...

I don't really have anything to say about this list I've made. I'm just throwing out ideas as to why moms might not feel like they can use their supportive friends and family sometimes.

Oh, I would like to say that all of those things are wrong and hogwash, obviously. But that doesn't negate the fact that they can exist as thought-patterns in the brain of a frustrated, overworked mother.



 

Kindergarten Kids - Shining Stars of Horror

Problem:

It's finally happened. After more than a month, one of your children is the "shining star" of the classroom. Unfortunately for me, when this happens, instead of being able to fully celebrate, I have to go back and forth between my kids, celebrating for one (but not too much) while placating the other (but not too much). Any failure in this system leads to tears. One cannot be too proud and happy, and one cannot be too sad and disappointed, but one must be both proud and happy and sad and disappointed...at the same time.

It's not about winning or losing. It's about someone in the family being deemed "specialer" than the other one, from an outside (and therefore, more authoritative) source.

Solution:

"Could maybe you congratulate and gush about the one, while telling the other her time will come someday and shouldn't we be excited for others when they do well?"

This is brand new information. Finally. Everything I've ever done has been wrong, and why didn't I just think of this!

Oh, wait.

Here's the thing. I think I utter some form of that phrase 20 billion times a day. When you have children close in age, and those children are, well, five, they seriously don't give a fuck about learning to appreciate their counterparts. So I can say that until I'm blue in the face (and I do), and no fucks are given. Ever.

This is normal. 'Buck up, kiddo' doesn't work with five year olds. It just doesn't.

Now, that doesn't mean you shouldn't talk to them about this integral life lesson. You should and you have to.

The important part of this "solution" is to realize that parent/child talks almost never go down in Danny Tanner style. You're never sitting on a flower-print bed spread, holding your preciously quiet daughter's hand as her big, searching eyes trust your infinite wisdom, take in your advice and make a behavioral change.

That. Never. Happens. Not even once.

We just have to shout over their tears, screams, pouts and tantrums, hoping they hear at least a fragment of the lesson we're trying to get through to them so that at some point, probably ten years from now, they begin to put the pieces together in a pattern, and finally realize that it's okay when your sibling earns something that you didn't.

Until then, have fun playing the game of 'stop the twins (or siblings close in age) from killing each other or spontaneously combusting from the stress.

Also, start writing letters to the school about why they should discontinue the stupid Shining Star activity. There are other competitions that are better for this that the school also does, like hooploops for good behavior and going to the treasure box when you've amassed a certain number of those. That's a better activity. Do that only. Thanks.




 

Kindergarten Kids - Ignore It

Problem: 

Even though your kids (by which, of course, I mean my kids), are making great strides toward become actual rational human beings, they still turn into puddles of teary snot when you don't give them what they want. (And you don't know why. You swear they've never gotten anything that way.) Usually you count (and 1, 2, 3 Magic didn't work at all for you, by the way--again, by you, I mean me), or reprimand them, or yell (yuh huh, you do too sometimes), or send them into time out. But they seem insistent on doing this crying thing that gets them nothing but negative results.

Solution:

Warning, this comes from my pediatrician, who is not a child psychologist, but it does seem to be working so far.

If your kids are like my kids, and are still having these silly, drawn-out, toddler tantrums (although, again, it's much less often these days thank God.) apparently, according to my ped, they're not doing it for positive results or to get what they want, but only for attention. And all the the above things I mentioned in the problem section give them a bit of attention.

She suggested completely ignoring it, which I've been doing.

And it works great for me, too, because now I don't have to deal with them when they're being total jerks.

(IMPORTANT: Don't do this until five. We tried doing this on our own about 18 months ago, and then when our kids entered preschool, instead of talking things out with her words, she'd trained herself to run away and cry until she felt better. Which you can't do in school. At that stage, the girls still needed to learn to use their words and face their problems. They do that now, and so this method is working better.)



 

Kindergarten Kids - Entitlement

Problem:

Your kid is entitled (and by your kid, I mean my kids). He's so entitled. You give him a toy plane (oh, I don't know, for example) and instead of saying thank you and playing with the plane, he finds some way to make an issue out of it so he can tantrum. Perhaps his sister's plane has more green on it (you know, for instance), or he can't fly it perfectly the first time he tries (like I said, just throwing things out there. Sigh.)

Or, hey, you bring your kid shoe shopping. You get her the ridiculous Princess Sophia sneakers she wants that light up a million different ways. You also pick out a pair of dress shoes, some purple low boots, and some cute knee-length boots. But the knee-lengthers weren't on sale like you thought, and you have enough shoes without them. Instead of recognizing that she now has three new pairs of shoes, and she should be over the moon about her new fashionable self, she's super upset about the one pair she couldn't get.

Solution:

Never ever buy them anything again or do anything nice for them because seriously what the hell.

Okay, just kidding.

Look, they're just exhibiting patent human nature. We always want more than we have, and when we're rewarded for things, or get treats, we assume we deserve all of it and more.

As parents, we have to teach our little jerks, I mean kids, how to show gratitude.

I'm making it really simple for mine. Every time they pull this entitled crap with me now, I remind them gently what to do instead.

"Mommy just ________ for you. What is the correct response?"

Nowadays they know the answer, but I had to train them to get there. Then (hopefully) they remember themselves, say thank you and we move on.

If they don't, well, I take the toy and the shoes and whatever else they're being miserable about away. Because honestly, people. The correct response is thank you.