hot/cold
Posted: March 3, 2010 Filed under: Uncategorized 12 Comments »When I was 12 or so and interested in all the sordid details of my parents' divorce 8 years earlier, I once asked some relatives what my parents' marriage had been like. "Hot and cold," they answered. When it was good, it was very, very good and when it was bad it was horrid. My mother's moods in general could sort of be described that way, though she lacked the Parker poem's forehead curl.
Lately this also seems an apt description of life with the wee redhead. Or, more specifically, my relationship with him. Wes seems to be doing fine, yawning through the tantrums since he has been through this before with GMB. I… tend to get really angry really fast.
Maybe hot and cold is just an apt description of toddlers. It is fits mine. One minute all is right and we are snuggled up and life is grand and then suddenly his head is spinning around and flames are shooting out of his ears and I am being screamed at. He SCREAMS at me. Passionately. How did this happen?
I am not good with all this. I can make it through the sillier ones – sudden freakouts over which toy to play with or a train track not connecting or dinner not eaten. We pick our battles around here. He sleeps in his tutu, for example. No, we only tackle things when they really matter. The one that gets me is the diaper. It is not constant anymore – we have finally reached a stage where he often tells us if he pooped. But sometimes no. Sometimes we revert back to the "NO diaper change NO way" mode of prior months. Like last night, for example. His infamous bedtime poop. His utter refusal to allow it to be changed. My insistence. Me trying every persuasion technique I have before growing very, very tired of this and finally just holding him down on my lap while he screamed bloody murder. I kept saying loudly, in case the neighbors could hear, "Mommy's job is to keep you clean and safe and I have to change your diaper so you don't get a rash." All the while trying my damnedest not to allow the necessary holding down to escalate with the rage I was feeling. A similar freakout occurred over undressing for bath and bed the other night. I had to hold him down and remove his clothes amidst screams of, "STOP MOMMA! DON DO DAT TO ME MOMMA!" I was sure someone was calling the authorities. And don't get me started on the insane guilt and worry I feel over all these negative associations with poop. This child will never potty train, I swear.
It takes the most will power of my life to stay even sort of calm in these moments. I don't always succeed. I have yelled louder than I would like. I walk away a lot. OK, I storm away. I say, through gritted teeth, MOMMY IS FEELING VERY ANGRY RIGHT NOW. It is a trying time with much drama ahead, I know.
But then…
he comes into the bed with us in the mornings now. He stopped for a while when he weaned himself, but he has started again. He comes in to me and says, "Let's cuddle, Momma" and I haul him over my body into the middle. And we cuddle. We cuddle all wrapped around each other with our heads all pressed up against one another and so many kisses and nuzzling noses and sighs and sleep. It is the most delicious thing I have ever experienced, new to me since nursing stopped and a profound joy.
I took him to the grocery store with me tonight. I usually go alone but our basement is slowly flooding again (THANKS, BLIZZARD) and Wes was dealing with that. He screamed bloody murder when we forced him out of the house and it required both of us holding him down to get his shoes on. True enough. But oh…. once we got there and he perked up around the berries and he was lovely by the time we got to the crackers and he asked for food and we went to the cafe and ate dinner overlooking the statue of liberty and chatted and said silly things to each other. And it was sweet sweet sweet. Since before he was born I have imagined this kind of thing, this quotidian type of activity that holds no particular significance but all the meaning in the world. Taking my son grocery shopping. Having dinner with my son. Having fun. Being silly. Sharing a life.
It is rare that I can really live in these moments. I guess the blame for that lies on some combination of my nature and the influence of the Internet, but I can't get the bad and sad stories out of my head. I am constantly ruining moments for myself. The three of us will be playing "ring around the rosey" and my brain floats above, reminding me how quickly it can be taken away. I am scared a lot. I don't show it much. But I think it.
It's good to be grateful for what you have, to never take anything for granted. But it is a fine line between gratitude and crazed obsession with negativity and death. I have always teetered there, I suppose.
Tonight we three were reading bedtime stories together. We had to pause in the middle of Daddy's seven millionth reading of Angelina Ballerina to do arabesques and grand jetes together on his rug. The sweetness took my breath away. And I fought off the scary stuff long enough to show him how to hold his arms whilst arabesquing.
H has hard times transitioning – have you done countdowns? Like “In 5 minutes we’ll do a diaper change”, then wait a bit “OK, you ready for diaper change?” – if NO then “OK, in 1 minute we’ll diaper change”. Not that it will solve stuff but might be worth a try. Potty training is a whole other arena – remember that’s something to look forward to at around 3
I’ve found so far 3 is worse than 2. I also think it’s OK to say “Look, Mommy is helping you and you screaming at me isn’t making me feel good”. I’m not sure how empathetic Beck is – H is inordinately sensitive so it works for her. I think too once you find the thing that motivates them use it!
And the fears you have about the scary stuff reminds me of the nightly discussions my husband has with me – like I love our kids but holy heck is the world shot to shit and how scary will it be for H and Z.
I am so glad you posted this today. I’ve been riding the guilt train this morning myself because of the way I’ve been handling some of Cash’s less-than-desirable behavior lately. He is NOT a morning person, so attempting to get both of us ready in the mornings presents quite the challenge, even when my fiancé is there to help. I know all he really needs is some extra time to snuggle and get fully awake but when aforementioned fiancé wakes us up 25 minutes late, there is no time for that. And don’t get me started on the bedtime struggles. Cash is 20 months old and has not slept through the night once in his little life. It often takes an hour of nursing and tossing and turning to get him to fall asleep, only to be summoned back an hour or two later. It’s exhausting. But it will pass. At least that’s what I keep telling myself…
I totally feel the guilt and the hot and cold thing. All of it. Plus the shame, plus I bet our walls are much thinner than yours, plus my neighbors don’t understand English which leaves them to imagine the worst.
I really needed to feel like I’m not the only one today. Thanks, Bri.
“And I fought off the scary stuff long enough to show him how to hold his arms whilst arabesquing.”
-As someone who has been through lots of scary stuff with my kids, that fighting off of the negative feelings and forcibly embracing and living the moments is something that I have had to learn to do. I am glad you are learning to do it too. There are specific strategies that I have used. When I get really freaked out or worried over something having to do with my kids, I sometimes make myself stop and walk them to the bakery for a cookie. Or I will turn on music and dance with them. Anything physical and joyful seems to help.
Love you, and love the post. -Julie
I have a hard time when W has his freak outs because I can;t walk away. It’s just me. And finding the calm within the screaming is really hard sometimes. The 4 thousandth pinch or the epic screams…I am now going to go have a cry because I thought for sure things would be better once comprehension happened.
I have been there so many times myself with the bipolar toddlers/preschoolers. And I have yelled in response on multiple occasions. Henry gets weepy, but Amelia is my screamer. One time, horribly, I actually told her to shut up. She can also be a nightmare to change, and I have ended up with her upside down by her ankles in a desperate attempt to prevent her from spreading poo everywhere. With Henry I usually say something like, “I know you’re mad, but that’s too loud. If you’re going to yell like that you can do it in your room.” But he’s more mellow. I think their tantrums/our frustration is inevitable. Maybe we can get a deal on therapy when they’re teens.
Also, when things are good, I also get terrified that it will all slip away. And then they are screaming again and I think I will be dealing with this for the rest of my life.
I thought about you while running at the gym. If the screaming gets unbearable, just carefully pick him up and put him in his room to calm down – just keep repeating in a nice calm voice “I hear you and I’m sorry you’re upset but you need to calm down so I can help you.”. Also just saying that and turning your back on him for a minute or two helps both you and him calm down. When Beck is ready to participate calmly just give lots of praise “Wow, it’s so great you are calm and I can help you.”. Yes you sound like a moron sometimes saying these things over and over but whatever gets you through that moment.
Now H automatically “times” herself out to calm down by sitting on her chair or on the kitchen floor – somewhat funny actually! I use countdowns a LOT and also do a lot of expectations “When we go in, don’t touch and listen to mom.”.
How is Beck with diaper changes for other people? Is it just you? I feel for you – Z has learnt the hammer kick with both legs aimed at the chest. Fun fun!
Don’t cry. I should specify that the walking away is possible because he is older, not because there is Wes. This happens most when Wes is not there. So you will be able to walk away in order to collect yourself, too. And the comprehension… it is AMAZING and JOYFUL.
I am so with you on this. Yesterday K. had a twenty minute tantrum because I made him shut the door (to the freezing cold) BEFORE taking his shoes off. After he was done screaming, he said, all accusatorily, “Mommy, I wish you would drink your coffee!” Because apparently that makes me less grumpy and more likely to let him have his way??? anyway, 2 – 3 year olds are just little crazy people.
I wanted to add that Beckett’s behavior, as you know, is typical, and your feelings are normal too. I used to fret, with J and M, that I was too mean or yelled too much or whatever. We are only human, as were our moms and their moms, etc. I don’t believe in totally hiding emotions like anger, sadness, etc. from kids all the time, which seems to be almost a trend these days. Anger is normal. Kids see that we get angry but that they are still loved and that anger does not last forever. I think that these are important things to learn in relation to their own feelings of anger. Anyway, kids do things that push our limits in a big way, and they are much more resilient to our reactions than we give credit for in my opinion. Yes, we may cause them to have issues but no one can avoid that completely, as you have reminded me more than once over the years. You are a great mom – I think you know that – even if you do sometimes get mad or react in a way that you would rather not.
Dear GOD, you’ve just described my daughter. Minus the tutu–she’s all about soccer cleats. Ow.
OH, and I forgot to mention. I react the same way. I lose my cool entirely too much. Lots of walking away at my house. Of course, it is hard to walk away when said toddler refuses to be buckled into her car seat and is screaming, a scream that echoes across the Target parking lot, “STOP DOING THAT TO ME! LEAVE ME ALONE! YOU’RE HURTING ME!” It’s only a matter of time before I have to explain AGE THREE to a cop.