The Punishment, Terrible Two's and Tantrums

Warning:
This blog contains jaw dropping material . . .
teeth grinding, hair pulling, it's 5 o'clock somewhere content.

Reader discretion is advised.

My goal by writing this is to, 
A. Attempt to relieve my own stress, and
B. Let other parents know that if you are dealing with hard times with your kids that you are not alone.

For the first time ever, both of my kids were faced with consequences that they did not like due to their actions.  Don't get me wrong, they've certainly dealt with consequences in the past due to misbehaving, they've just never dealt with so many all at once.

This morning's adventure out led to coming home early and the kids spending 45 minutes in their rooms. This was followed by no iPad, and no TV for the rest of the day. Just so we are all clear, I don't plop my kids in front of the TV, or let them play Candy Crush all day. They are allowed a little time each day to watch a favorite show, or play an educational game. That's why these times are a big deal. Some may think that a 45 minute time out in a room for an almost two and a three year old seems like a long time, but seriously, that's how long it took my husband and I to recover from this adventure out.

The morning started off fine. They slept well, (for them) and ate a good breakfast. My husband and I decided to run an errand at Target to get some things we needed for our upcoming birthday party for Charlotte. Oh yes, terrible two's! I remember them well since it seems like just yesterday that Lanie was two.

As we parked the car, the usual fuss about riding in the shopping cart started. This is not a huge deal for me. Both of them are typically good when it comes to holding your hand, and with my husband being there it usually makes shopping with them a little easier. It leaves me a free hand to work with. I mean how hard can it be to pick up a card and a stupid paper tablecloth for a birthday party? I said it before and I'll say it again . . . shopping with your kids is NEVER easy. As a matter of fact, I've decided I'm not doing it again until my kids are 12 and 13. I figure in about 10 years or so, it may be a little more manageable. Most likely by then I'll be dealing with a new set of challenges, and I'll have forgotten about all the tantrums they pull now.

When we got in the store my husband went off with my youngest, while Lanie and I searched for the perfect birthday card. That 25 second search turned into my oldest ripping cards off the shelf and throwing them on the floor. When I got down at her level and told her to pick up the cards she lost it saying, "NO, don't you tell me to pick them up. I'm not doing it." Really?! I sense a massive meltdown coming because that crap does not fly well with me. "Lanie, I'm going to ask you again nicely to pick up the cards. Someone worked really hard to put all these cards on the shelves. We need to put them back where they belong." Her response, "NO!" Really?! (a WTF moment). "Lanie, if you don't pick up the cards, I will bring you out to the car." Not only did I get a big fat "NO", I also got a slap in my leg. You bet that shit didn't fly well. My husband saw this and instantly scooped her up, kicking and screaming and brought her out to the car. One down.

Now I'm left with Charlotte and I'm thinking that I'll get my items and get out of there quick. Nope, not the case. Another meltdown, or more like five meltdowns. One in the toy isle that she ran to, one in the clothing department, one by the hair accessory shelf, one at the checkout, and the massive one as I struggled to carry her out of the store kicking and screaming all while attempting to maneuver the shopping cart that she refused to sit in. I could sense lots of onlookers staring, and I was so embarrassed that I could not make eye contact with anyone . . . until I had to. A woman in a caravan pulled up beside me and said "Hang in there. You're doing a good job." A big shout out to that woman. Thank you! At that point I desperately needed a kind vibe. 

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The Fun of Fall with the Kids

Well it's official! The heat was turned on and the cool, crisp air has made it's way to Massachusetts. There is something about replacing short sleeves with hooded sweatshirts, and trading in my summer iced coffee for a warm cup, or in my case pot of coffee, that I find very comforting. I love the aromas of Fall too. Warm apple crisp, apple pies, pumpkin seeds and all different kinds of cookies baking just to name a few.

I was never one to bake. I can thank my kids for that. Their love for baking has challenged me to give it my all, and not be so scared of the kitchen. I've done good . . . It's been months since I've set off a smoke detector. The upside to baking with your kids is that 1. It's fun for them, and 2. If a stray eggshell ends up here or there you can says things like, "That's what happens when you bake with small children." For the record: I don't let my kids touch the eggs, but nobody needs to know that.

When I think of Fall, I think of things like Halloween and Thanksgiving. I think of school and the fact that Charlotte, my baby, is turning two! Though I'm thankful for everyday with my kids, Fall brings out the subtle reminders of the little things. For instance, the leaves changing colors and falling from the trees. Though I know the colors are changing right before my eyes, my kids often remind me to stop for a minute and take a look at how beautiful they are. They're right, they are beautiful. For some reason the stresses of that dreaded fall clean up don't always seem so bad when you have little ones. Taking a break to watch the excitement in their faces as they jump in a pile of leaves, or stop to count acorns always makes it just a little easier.

I'm thankful for Lanie's preschool, and all the fun she has there. The look in her eyes when I come to pick her up each day is priceless. She is always eager to show me all the artwork she has stuffed in her backpack, and it's beyond clear that she thoroughly enjoys herself while she's there. I'm thankful for those two mornings a week when Lanie is in school. It gives me one on one time with Charlotte which is rare, and it's really nice.

My kids often remind me to take a step back and enjoy the little things. I thank them for that. As a matter of fact they both took a nap the other day at the same time. I think that has happened maybe three times total. Instead of catching up on housework, I cracked into the Halloween candy stash, sat on the couch with my feet up and ate three mini snickers bars. I'm thankful that Halloween only happens once a year and I don't have pounds of candy hidden in my cabinets. However, I am thankful for that moment. I've dreamt of that stay at home mom, kicked back on the couch, eating chocolate image for so long. It really happened!

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Kids Halloween Costumes . . .

Is it really necessary to make

kids Halloween costumes resemble

something a streetwalker would wear?

Sorry kids, NO . . .

you can't be Slutberry Shortcake or

The Wicked Witch of the Combat Zone,

EVER!

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A Weeks Worth of Kid Quirks

Boy have I got some quirky stories for you. This past week has been full of them. It all stems from my kids' obsession with Peppa Pig. Specifically, my three year old's. My (almost) two year old joins in on the quirkiness as she likes to follow her big sisters lead, or perhaps it's a payback since my oldest now refers to her younger sister as her "little brother Georgie"(Peppa's pig sibling). For those unfamiliar with "Peppa", she's a pig who speaks with a British accent and has a head which resembles an over-sized, 1970's style, pink blow dryer. It's a half hour cartoon which runs back to back from 5 to 6 pm. It really could not come on at a better time. My kids sit glued to the TV, allowing me time to start dinner without dealing with any serious casualties.

Recently, let's just say, I've developed a love/hate relationship with this silly Peppa Pig show. I LOVE that my kids will sit down on the couch without moving for a full hour. I HATE that my oldest now refers to me as "Mommy Pig", to my husband as "Daddy Pig", and that she'll often introduce herself to strangers by saying "Hi I'm Peppa pig, and this is my Mommy pig, my Daddy pig, and my little brother Georgie." I'm not sure if these so called strangers think that we are visiting from overseas since she now speaks with a British accent, but we're not. Also, my youngest is clearly a girl, and my husband and I are real live people, not pigs.

The other day during the car ride to preschool, my oldest busted out with a really loud "HI, I'M PEPPA PIG" followed by an equally loud pig snort. My youngest chimed in with a "NO! I'M PEPPA PIG", followed by more pig snorts. My oldest was floored by this and yelled "NO, YOU'RE MY LITTLE BROTHER GEORGIE!" This resulted in a very loud, dueling snort match for what is normally a very short car ride to school. That short car ride very well may have been the longest five minutes of my life.

On this same day, my oldest came home from school with two paintings she made. She was so excited to show them off and handed one over to my youngest. It was a nice break from the bickering over Peppa pig. This is what she said "Here Charlotte, I made this for you." My heart literally melted as she sat by our fireplace explaining to her younger sister that she made this extra picture to share with her. Then she said, "It's a giant steak. I made an extra one for you to eat since Mommy and Daddy don't feed us. That's what I said to my teachers at school." Just for the record: I feed my kids food.

On tommorow's breakfast menu: BACON

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Challenging Times with the Kids

Let me start by saying I love my kids. I love them to pieces. However, I am not one to sugar coat stuff. If things are bad, I'll tell you. If they are great, I'll tell you that too. Lately, things have been challenging . . . like teeth grinding challenging. Their recent sleep patterns bring me back to the times when they were newborns. Though I loved those times, it's a bittersweet reminder that I am perfectly content with my family of four. I'm tired, go back to sleep kids!

Recently my kids have entered into a monkey see monkey do phase. You know what? It sucks. I try my best to keep them busy and engaged in activities that are fun for them, because this monkey see monkey do crap is less likely to present itself. To be completely honest though, life isn't always about fun and games. There are obligations . . . like buying groceries. Shopping with my kids, sighhhhhhh. Somebody might as well throw a brick at my face, because it would probably be more pleasurable.

Over the weekend I thought we'd kill two birds with one stone. The prior week had been filled up with several play dates that included apple picking, pumpkin picking, the mall play place, and several visits to the park. I figured taking a "me" day wasn't out of the question. My mom had offered to get me a new purse for my upcoming birthday. You know, a real bag, a nice one! I've always been into nice bags, but for the past three years I have been sporting around the "trendy" diaper bag. I was ready for a change, and she wanted me to pick it out. The 45 minute drive to my mom's house is always more fun with company, so I opted to bring my kids along. Plus, my mom was excited when I said I was considering bringing them both. A visit with Nana and a new bag. A win/win, right? Who was I kidding? That shopping trip was a nightmare.

It all started when we arrived at the store and I took the stroller out of the car. My oldest hasn't ridden in a stroller or shopping cart for a very long time so I no longer tote the massive double stroller around. She does a great job holding your hand while walking, so I now stick to the single stroller for my youngest. Let's just say, that doesn't go over so well. Naturally, my youngest wants to follow her big sister's lead and walk. I warned my mother about this, and she has always said to me "Remember, you're the boss." Charlotte is still little, and in my opinion at her age, in situations like this, she should be riding in a stroller but, like I've said before, with small kids you pick your battles. I figured this would be a quick trip in and out. I'd put her in the stroller, she'd cry for maybe a minute, then be fine. Of course, I was wrong, very wrong!

Well, as we all know, no shopping adventure with kids in tow is a quick trip. (What was I thinking?) Secondly, Charlotte didn't cry for a minute, she wailed for five minutes before I finally took her out of the stroller. I figured since my mom was there to help out it wouldn't be too bad. Once she was freed from said stroller she immediately greeted a fellow onlooker with a great big smile and a "hello!" Okay. . . so all is well now, I can get my bag, right? Wrong. During the couple of minutes that I took to look around, my kids set off at least 15 security alarms attached to these purses and they did this while under the watchful eye of my mother and I. I'm not joking, we were right there and it turned into a game of who could set the most alarms. Now, I'm not sure when or who invented these snazzy new security devices that attach to the bags and have a button that, when pushed, sends the alarm into panic mode. (Whoever you are, thanks buddy!) At any rate my kids figured out exactly how to make these things screech and they found great joy in pulling away from my mom and I to do so. With several alarms going off all at once, the store sounded more like a birds of prey exhibit at the ecotarium than your standard department store. I was mortified, and figured it would be best to get out of there . . . quick. We went to another department store where this same thing happened, again. I'm not sure which kid started this awful button pushing nightmare, but the noise was horrid. We left that store too but not before getting my bag and dealing with two massive temper tantrums because we did not buy the black and white polka-dot shoes.

Oh, well. Kids will be kids, so the saying goes. Lesson learned from my unfortunate adventure in shopping . . . when you take your next "ME" day, LEAVE the kids at home!

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My Mommy Meltdowns

This week has been rough. My kids made me cry. Twice. I'm not exactly sure what drove me to this point, but I do know this . . . typically I can brush the sometimes crazy days off and start each new day with a smile. I figure if I can get to 12:30 PM, any given day, without dropping the f-bomb under my breath it's a good day. That wasn't the case this past week.  I'm going to chalk it up as a default considering one day, or actually one night, started when my oldest decided to get up at 11:30 PM and went the entire following day without napping. I tried my best to ignore the very loud singing that went on for four hours straight that night, but after several reminders that everyone else was sleeping and she needed to be quiet and go back to bed, it just wasn't happening and I gave up. The very next night my youngest started her day at 2:30 AM, and just kept going and going like the Energizer Bunny on some sort of speed. I wanted to run away. I had visions of someplace tropical, but would have settled for an hour to myself to indulge in a very strong Belvedere martini . . . extra dirty. I can totally understand how some stay at home moms turn into stay at home alcoholics. (This is coming from someone who rarely drinks.)

The lack of sleep, temper tantrums and constant arguments over toys was really taking its toll on not only them, but myself as well. One morning I decided to do something kind of silly to see if I could sway our moods in a different direction. It wasn't really silly, it was dumb. Well, I thought it was silly, my kids thought it was dumb. I had a stray helium balloon that I decided to pop and suck some of the helium out of. As I entered the room trying to contain my high pitched, helium laughter, I said "Hey Kids, look at me! I'm your Motha!" (As you can tell, I was clearly starting to lose my marbles.) Kid one screamed at the top of her lungs and yelled "What are you? You're not my mother!!" Kid two gave me the dirtiest look I've ever seen a child give, then turned around and walked away. My attempt at some early morning humor failed.

Later that day my oldest peed on our $2000 couch. Yeah, that pretty much sums up that day. Well, with the exception of bickering over every single toy in our house. The snatching toys . . . I can't take it. It happens all. The. Time. My three year old gets my count to three tactic. It works like a charm. "If you don't give that back I'm going to have to count to three."  I get half way through one and it's pretty much the equivalent of Chinese water torture in her eyes. "NOOO! Don't count to three, I'll give it back!!" My youngest on the other hand thrives on me counting to three. The look she gives as I start to count is similar to the look that a child petting their brand new puppy for the very first time would have. Pure excitement. "Yeah, do it! Count to three. Do it. Do it." It's pretty awful. Let's just say she's going through a testy phase.

Today, my "testy" one made her way up onto the kitchen counter and into a shopping bag that had chocolate cupcakes with orange frosting in it. This happened during the 47 seconds that I was in the bathroom. By the time I cleaned the chocolate off of her hands and face, it dawned on me that I too was now covered in chocolate and had little time to change my clothes. (If you read my past blogs, you may remember my oldest freaks out about stains on her shirt. Yeah, she must get that from me.) Despite my looking like I just took a float down Willie Wonka's chocolate river, I did not have time to change. I had five minutes to get to preschool to pick up my oldest. Plus, I wanted to prove a point to her . . . it's okay to get dirty. Thank god for curb side pick-up, or people may have thought I was home stuffing my face with chocolate cupcakes all morning.

On a good note, my youngest is turning two in a month. That explains some of the testy behavior. On that same day, I’ll be turning 37. My oldest reminded me of that this morning. She said "Mommy, you look so good!" I took this as a compliment, then she said, "For a big, old 24 year old. You have a birthday coming up soon too . . . 47, right?" To add insult to injury, I actually did have to count on my fingers to figure out how old I was going to be. The day I turn 47, I mean 37, is the day I'm treating myself to that martini! Cheers to testy behaviors, terrible twos, good health, and everything in between!

Have you had a mommy meltdown recently? I would love to hear about it, please share!

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My Bucket List of things to do with My Kids

Everyone has visions of things they want to do with their kids while they're still young, right? Making lasting memories is fun! Not only for them, but for you too!

Here's my list:

1. A trip to Disney
I did this as a kid and boy do I have memories. I mean who doesn't like the sound of mouse ears, sunshine and Space Mountain? (Well, maybe my husband since he is not a fan of roller coasters.) It's okay, he can stick to the Tea Cups and those flying Dumbos. I don't like rides that spin.

2. Take my kids to a concert
Like a real rock concert. No Elmo, Fresh Beat Band, or Biebers. (I'm not saying I won't do that too, just no Justin . . . I can't stand that Bieber boy.) I'm talking about Kiss, or maybe P!NK. I'd do this even if it's just for pure shock value.

3. Dance in the rain, climb some trees, lick the beaters (yeah I know, egg free ones)
These basics are sometimes the most fun!

4. Play Hooky (I won't get mad)
Let me start by saying I do not encourage skipping school in any way, shape, or form. Maybe it will be a trip to the American Girl store on your birthday, or maybe when you're older you'll take a day to go to the beach with friends. If you (my kids) somehow stumble across this post when you're in high school, you have my permission to take a day to do something fun. ONE day without consequences. Everybody needs their own Ferris Bueller's day off. Just don't do anything too stupid, or there will be consequences.

5. Encourage my kids to take risks
If you feel confident, do it! Daredevil stunts help overcome fears, build confidence and maybe even break bones. (Not that I hope for that, but it happens.) It's part of life. Let's just keep the climbing at the playground and not on my kitchen counters . . . I promise the playground is your place to be free, and I'll let you.

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