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| The Calm Before the Storm that Erupted Tonight that Inspired this Post |
My last post was back in January, and ironically, it was "I Will Love Your Highlight Reel," with the theme of being genuinely happy for vs. resentful towards those we love when they share the joy in their own lives. Well, today's post is a little different. My own personal highlight reel has hit a scratch in the film, and I. Just. Can't. Stay in the joy. Most of my everyday posts on Social Media are happy-go-lucky rainbows and butterflies, mostly about my adorable children and our active, fun, loving family. But let's just be real. Life is full of ups and downs, each day is full of ups and downs. Heck, sometimes a single moment is packed full of both ups and downs! I'm not hiding the downs from anyone; I'm just usually not taking pictures or thinking about my next Facebook post in the middle of TANTRUM HELL.
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| Lucky Boy at White Water Last Week |
Oh, is that what it's called, you ask? YES. Tantrum Hell is a real place. I know b/c I live there...but sometimes I get a temporary leave of absence from Tantrum Hell, and I get to hang out with these precious little people with the sweetest hearts and brightest smiles and the most adorable little laughs. And yes, these creatures can be so misleading with their manners and hugs and agreeable natures, but in those sunny, happy, blissful days, I forget about their screaming and fighting and whining and crying and disrespectful attitudes, and I start doing stuff I later regret...like buying them Slushies, taking them to movies, trips to Target, going to White Water, letting them stay up late or even sleep in my bed! Next thing ya know, they are evil again, and I am back in Tantrum Hell with 2 little devils.
Yeah, I feel bad that I am referring to my beautiful angel blessings as "little devils," but don't judge too harshly. I'm just using metaphors and imagery to get my point across. I love my kids more and more with each passing hour, and my heart, although constantly broken, is full and thankful for them just the way they are. But I am flawed, I tell ya! I'm not perfect, and I don't plan on being perfect any time soon. I'm not even aiming for perfect. I'm shooting for survival! To live another day! To go to bed and wake up again all in one piece!
I have a lot of self doubts. I'll spare you the details of my emotional history, but let's just say, I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY wanna be a good mom. And to be fair to myself, I think in general I AM a good mom. But I want to be exceptional. I want my kids to think I am the best and MEAN IT. I want my husband to look at me in awe of all I can accomplish day in and day out, while still providing him with clean underwear and a home-cooked meal every night. Umm, what's so funny? Oh yeah, that's right. HE is the cook in our family, and his clean underwear are lost somewhere in the deep dark abyss that is "Laundry Mountain."
Ahem...I can promise you that Laundry Mountain is all clean, and I am great at ordering pizza online or hitting the Chik-Fil-A drive through, and I make THE best PB&J (#truth), but good parenting isn't defined by well-fed kids who smell like Bounce. I'm just doing the best I can, and I bet you are too, and I think you're doing a great job, whoever you are, and I hope you think I'm doing a great job too b/c I need your support, and you need my support, and we can support each other and hug and cry and write loving comments on each other's status updates and...wait, where am I going with this?
Oh yeah, back to Tantrum Hell. It can feel so lonely here. I keep searching for a way out, but feeding the animals only makes them beg for more, and scolding just them makes them bite harder and bark louder. I have days where I feel like no matter what I do, no one can see how hard I am trying, how much sweat goes into co-existing or how deflated I am when it is all over. The hubs is a great man, but he too, is flawed, and ultimately, he is down here with me screaming "Earmuffs!" and rocking back and forth in the fetal position. Neither of us has control of the monsters who live among us.
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| Posing w/ "Baby Mike" & "Baby Mike-Dora" When She Came to My Office (When asked how she got those names she said, "I found them from my internet!") |
A few weeks ago I took my kids to work with me on a Friday. It was Grandma's day to keep them, but she was out of town, and I didn't have a sitter lined up while she was gone. The day started out nicely. The kids looked cute and packed some toys and settled into the office with paper and highlighters supplied by my very kid-friendly boss, who happens to share her office with me. Jack had his iTouch, and he kept himself mostly entertained with that while Lander wandered around and played with her baby dolls. But then it happened. The iTouch battery died. That was the beginning of the end. Without the iTouch, Jack became increasingly bored, and with his boredom came whining, and whining was distraction from my work, which made me nervous and stressed out b/c Lander was being so good, and I knew she could only handle so much before her own crazy switch flipped on, and then what would I do?!?! Boss lady to the rescue! She started playing some music videos for the kids, and they love music and she even took their requests. One such request was for a song that is not always kid appropriate, so I asked her to find the G-rated version of it. Oh. Em. Gee. You would have thought I had just asked her to pull his nose hairs out one by one with tweezers by the way he freaked when she switched to the audio-only "clean" version of Iggy Azalea's "Fancy!" This raging lunatic was flailing about in our crowded little quarters and even ducked himself under my desk to cry it out while I, humiliated beyond belief, tried desperately to keep my voice at a non-yelling volume as I told him all the consequences in his future if he didn't stop being insane. Boss lady left about a half hour later, and the incident, combined with 6 potty breaks, multiple snack requests, and a super heavy workload, made my time there more extensive, turning an intended 2 hours into a LONG 5 or 6. Back to Tantrum Hell.
This is the 2nd time the iTouch has been taken away for an indefinite long-term amount of time. I had hoped Jack's behavior would be good enough over the summer with all the extra down time to relax and just play that he wouldn't lose his cool so easily, but he is his mother's (and father's!) child, and the apple doesn't fall far from the trees. He is cursed with an emotionally charged personality, and I know we will spend his entire childhood, teen years and early 20s trying to help him temper that and seeking ways to channel his negative energy into positive activities and interests. That's why we feel like baseball and BMX and physical activities are good for him, and not things to take away or barter as consequences. The iTouch is a privilege that requires maturity and responsibility, and if he isn't behaving maturely or responsibly, then he loses access to that privilege. Seems like a simple action/consequence method, but no, there are so many layers woven into every parental decision. The article that says you should never yell at your kids, the open letters to all the moms in Target, the guilt of working all day and not being fully present when with the kids, the wrong advice from well-meaning or over-judging friends, the I-want-us-all-to-get-a-full-night-of-sleep-so-let's-all-sleep-together plans, we've-had-pizza-or-spaghettios-5-nights-this-week, using TV for a babysitter while working from home, "Mommy, put your phone down!" "Daddy, play with me!" the sudden high fever, the over-abundance of poop, the "you're already enough" posts, the confusion and psychosis of PMS, the bills, the bills, the BILLS, and then "you're the best mommy in the world and I love you!" How can someone process that much with each parenting decision and be expected to make the right choice every time? I don't think we can. I know I can't. I'm constantly fighting off my own internal tantrum, and sometimes it makes its way out anyway, and I scream at the kids or put them in timeout just so I can have a break from them, or spank them when I really didn't want to resort to that, but I felt like NOTHING ELSE was working.
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| The McQ Zoo on My Birthday - 6/30/15 |
I'm pretty sure I created Tantrum Hell. The rest of The McQ Zoo is only there b/c they want to be close to me. It is in my own head, my own demons, my own stress, my own unrealistic expectations of myself, and I must be projecting all of that onto my kids and the hubs.
I need to relive my highlight reel. I need to study it, find out what those moments are made up of, try to focus on the common denominators and take a permanent leave of absence from Tantrum Hell.
I'm gonna go kiss those little devils goodnight now and thank the Good Lord that they are mine.
