Life in our Shoes

Archive for the ‘Parenting’ Category

It was a big week for Thing 1. We had her first real parent teacher conference this week. Her Kindergarten one didn’t count in my brain. The teacher saw me in the hall and said “We don’t really need a conference. She’s doing great. There’s your conference.” I’m glad she is out of that school.

I was met in the hall by Mr B. I had no idea who he was. Mrs. L (the teacher) informed me that he would like to “sit in on Thing 1′s conference”. My brain immediately went to the bad. I assumed it was the principal and he wanted to talk about her behavior, or her school bus probation, or something of the sort. I was zipped back to my school days and the whole “what did I do?” mentality. My fears were quickly dissolved when he introduced himself as the music teacher. He informed me he likes to sit in on conferences of the students that seem to really enjoy music and show a great potential for it. Whew. We talked about the guitar she is getting for Christmas, and that she will be starting School of Rock in January. He said if she learned a song, and wanted to, he would have the school hold a special assembly for her to play on stage. Wow! She would eat that up. Such a Diva.

Then we moved onto the educational stuff. Mrs L went on and on about how she talks about Thing 1 all the time. She told me she has a wonderful foundation for learning. She always knows every new book, new song, and new country they talk about. Before they even learn about it in class. This girl retains everything she ever hears. Even if she only hears it once. I know I had to be beaming with pride the whole time.

The class is split into five different reading levels. She is in the highest, with only two other kids. That’s a third grade level, folks. She is in first grade. The beginning of first grade! You have no idea how happy that makes me. Providing the kids with their own libraries (thank you Scholastic!) has certainly paid off. Her stories are incredible, full of detail, and always make sense. She is learning to expand on the sentences she writes, and I can already see a huge difference in the stories she wrote in the beginning of the year, as opposed to now.

Moving on from school stuff (even though there was a ton more said at the conference). We loaded the bikes up into the car and went to the park today. It was freezing but Thing 1 and Thing 2 needed to get out. Up until now, Thing 1 has been terrified of trying her bike on her own. Today, we got out there, and when I let go, instead of freaking out, she laughed. Hysterically laughed. As she zoomed around. And around. And around. Naturally, the laughter ended when she fell, but that led us into our next lesson of using the brakes. She picked that up and was skidding around in no time. The final lesson of the day was for her to launch herself instead of myself or The Squatch running with her and letting go. I thought that one would take more time, but boy was I wrong!

OK, so this post totally sounds like I am bragging about my daughter, but I’m really not. I’m just so stinkin’ proud! And maybe I’m bragging a wee bit. What can I say? She’s awesome!

It took me a while to come up with a good descriptor word for Thing 2. But, after much thought, I decided on impulsive. He rarely thinks before he acts. I don’t think he intentionally misbehaves, but it happens. More often than it should. Often to a point where I just have no idea what to do about it. I could really use some new strategies, because everything I have tried simply does not work.

The most recent example of his behavior was yesterday. We were about 3 minutes from walking out the door to karate. Thing 1 decided she was thirsty, so I told her to grab a juice box for the car. Thing 2 has to have everything she has, so he went to get one as well. She got there first, so he just launched out and bit her. BIT HER. He never bit before. Never. It was as if no thought was even involved. He just did it. She bruised instantly and had teeth marks. In all of his four years, he never bit. But, yesterday he did. I was floored. I sent him to his room immediately and went to karate without him. The Squatch stayed behind to talk to him about his behavior. He knew it was wrong. He knows biting hurts. If you ask him how he could have handled the situation better, he can tell you that. Which is why I am fairly certain he acts out of impulse.

Something as simple as dropping a fork on the floor at dinner can send him into complete hysterics. Rather than asking for a new fork, or getting down and picking it up, he will slam his fists down and scream. Then cry about it. Once I get him to calm down and think of what he should do instead, he will get down from the chair, put the fork in the sink and get a new one.

If Thing 1 happens to be in his way to see something (book, TV, etc) he will just hit her. Or throw something. He often can’t walk past a toy without kicking it over just because. I find myself asking multiple times a day “Why on Earth did you do that?” Though, I am always met with the same response. “I don’t know”

He has even gone as far as to hit me when I tell him it is time to go to bed, or clean, or some other thing he doesn’t want to do at that particular moment. Talking to him doesn’t work. Time outs don’t work. Taking things away doesn’t work. Rewarding good behavior doesn’t work.

I am at a complete and total loss as to what to do. Send Super Nanny my way please.

I know better than this. I know not to play the what if game. It leads down a very slippery slope into no good, very bad land. It also makes my anxiety (and comfort eating) increase by tenfold. But today, I’m doing just that.

The day started off great, which around here generally means if things start off great, they have no other way to go but down. We were buying Thing 2 a new bike, Thing 1 a new skateboard and everyone was just generally happy. Some house news came in that was great (but later turned out to be the beginning of the bad day). That led to an upsetting phone call that took my sensitive, cry over everything self, a long time to calm down from. Once I did, another call came in that started me in tears all over again. But, that is all irrelevant.

I don’t know if I had an extremely short, bad day, induced fuse or if Thing 2 was behaving extra badly. That line kind of gets blurred for me on occasion. Either way, I just did not have the patience to tell him for the 50th time to stop pulling apart the playhouse and smashing the pieces into things. So, I sent him to his room and told him to sit quietly until I said he could come down. He usually doesn’t sit quietly, and in fact often turns on his radio and sings. Some punishment, huh?

Anyhow, this time he was quiet. Never, ever trust a quiet four year old. I don’t know how much time passed. It could have been 30 seconds or 30 minutes or 30 years for all I know. I just know it was too quiet. So I called for him to come down. He didn’t. I jokingly said to The Squatch, “Hey, maybe he fell asleep!” Wishful thinking.

He wasn’t in his bed. Or in his closet which is his go to hiding spot. Or in fact, anywhere in his room. My next stop was the bathroom. Nope, not there either. Was he perhaps in Thing 1′s bed? No. On a whim, I opened her closet. My heart stopped. It was like I was living my nightmare (literally. I’ll post my nightmare at the end of this post)

There sat Thing 2 with a plastic bag over his head. Not the grocery store kind, but the kind that a sheet set would come in. It felt like it took me a million years to bend down and pull it off. He was fine, wide awake and alert, but he knew I was clearly upset. I think he perceived my tears and shaking as upset over his behavior as he repeatedly apologized while I just hugged him, rocking on the floor.

We had a talk (that also included Thing 1) about the importance of never, ever putting anything over your face and why. He told me that he wasn’t having trouble breathing but that he promised never to do it again anyhow.

I, on the other hand, promised myself to never leave plastics bags laying around. I feel awful. What if I had assumed he fell asleep and didn’t go up to check? What if I waited a few minutes longer? What if, what if, what if?

Rescue Remedy is my best friend today.

Oh, right, I almost forgot. My nightmare. It was about two weeks ago. I dreamed I came into the room looking for Thing 2 and he was sitting with a plastic bag over his head. Only I found him too late. And unlike most dreams (nightmares) it never faded. It is still crystal clear in my head. The sights, the sounds, the way he felt in my arms. I woke up shaking. Much like I am feeling right now. Because I just can’t stop the shaking.

Little buddy, I can’t imagine life without you. So, let’s keep the what ifs as only what ifs. They never need to become a reality.

Two words come to mind when I think of Thing 1. Well more than two, really. But the two that really stand out are high maintenance. This child is destined to be a Diva.

First of all, her calendar is busier than mine. I’m really just her chauffeur doubling as her Mom. It’s all really just a way of protecting her super secret identity for when she is famous. Let me give you a glimpse into our weekly schedule.  Obviously, there is school every day, though I don’t doubt she will someday want a private tutor just so she can add some more extra curricular activities into her already busy week.  Monday we have karate, Tuesday we have Girl Scouts, Wednesday we have Acro HipHop, Thursday we have karate again (now that she is entered into a tournament we have a private lesson on Thursday on top of her class), Friday we have Irish dance. Those are just her regularly scheduled classes. On the weekends we toss in the occasional tournament, dance show, charity show, parade, or Girl Scout event. To me, that is utter chaos. To her, it isn’t enough. She wants to take figure skating as well. If only there were more days in the week and more money in my bank, I would let her.

Second, she has two very distinct looks each day. She either wants to look like a princess or a rockstar. Both looks require her hair to be down! and curly! Now, she has the most beautiful curls you could ever imagine. But, her hair is long. Down to her butt long (when it’s wet). And there’s a lot of it. So, in order to achieve that perfect down and curly look each day, we need to set aside 40 minutes to do her hair. 40 minutes!!  What am I going to do next year when she needs to be in school before 12:15? She is not an early riser. Of course she isn’t. Divas don’t get up before 10AM.  If they do, they say silly things like “my eyes just aren’t ready” or “come back in 15 minutes”.

Third, in true Diva form, she must always be right. At all costs.  If she is ever wrong, she will tell you that she knew that, but just wanted to do it her own way.  That’s how Diva’s roll.

And last but not least, she is a master manipulator. Especially in regards to Thing 2. For example, if she is playing her computer (yes, she has her own pink laptop, so I may be the one feeding into her Divaness a bit) she will ask Thing 2 if he wants to play the game she is playing. Naturally he says yes. But then, of all silly things, he expects her to let him play. But, no. She follows up with “Good. Go ask Mommy for her computer”  Thing 2 then comes to me and mission accomplished. She no longer has him hanging around her.

Need some visual evidence? Of course you do. Click to see bigger images.

Rockstar image #1. Those glasses? She doesn’t need them. They are “for fashion”

Rockstar image #2.

And, finally, a close up of the curls. Her hair is way longer in the back.

I don’t have any pictures of the princess look. I cleaned out my computer recently, and she has been all about the rockstar look lately.

So, there you have it. High maintenance much?