This week has been especially challenging. I think my expectations have created some of that. This week is my husband's spring break (he's a teacher) as well as my oldest son's (age 4), (from preschool) and my students (that I tutor). Therefore the only obligation we have had this week has been to take my youngest to his preschool (age 2), (his spring break is of course next week). My sister-in-law is due with her first baby on Easter. My husband wanted to visit his parents (who live two hours away) and I wanted to be close to home in case nephew was born. Which led to me getting a boy-free weekend, starting on Friday evening (after I tutored for the last time before my break) to Sunday evening. IT WAS WONDERFUL! I went to the mall, twice, did my taxes, in peace, and had a nice dinner with my brother, sister-in-law, and mom. I thought I would really miss the kids, but it was nice to be kid-free.
Insert GUILT.
I felt so bad that I didn't entirely miss the boys, that I thought surely I must be a terrible mother. I know how often I have judged (in my head) other parents who leave their kids at the drop of a hat to go to dinner, take a weekend away, or go on vacation. I thought that, for me, it would be so agonizing to be away from my kids for that long, that I would never be able to enjoy myself. However, I found myself thinking how nice it was to not have a diaper bag with me (everywhere I went I thought I was leaving something behind), how nice it was to eat a dinner out in public, without screaming, crying, fighting kids, how nice it was to go shopping and not have worry about wandering little ones, taking them to the potty, them tearing down a display, how nice it was to hear that I didn't have to deal with the youngest not sleeping through the night and then not having to take him to Urgent Care to get his ear checked just because he had yet another cold. It was just so...nice! Then that's where the guilt starts. I love my kids more than anything in the world, so how could I be enjoying this time away from them?
Despite my enjoyment of a kid-free weekend, I was excited to hear the garage door go up on Sunday and ran out to greet my boys. However, this bliss did not last. After about 10 minutes the boys started fighting, the youngest started clinging and I started yelling. I thought surely my non-kid calm would get me through the night.
Then starts the week. I had great plans of hubby/daddy enjoying his time coming along for the ride, as he got to experience our everyday of taking youngest to preschool and having two hours with oldest to hang out. The boys are sooo much better when they are alone. When it was just my oldest, we thought we were the greatest parents EVER and that this parent thing was not nearly as bad as everyone said it was. My oldest was a pretty calm, easy going little guy. We could take him to restaurants and stores with little to no problems. Insert sibling and all hell breaks loose. You are suddenly put in situations with an infant/toddler that you otherwise would not be in, were there just one of them. Waiting for older brother while he takes a gymnastics class or a preschool class at the Y in which you cannot leave (not state certified or some nonsense) and young toddler refuses to stay in the Child Watch. At first I thought youngest was just a handful, but I realized I was putting him in situations that oldest never was put in, so it was hard to compare. Besides, oldest went to a babysitter while I worked, whereas, youngest has only had me. Also, oldest never had a tormenter, toy taker, tattler, and instigator, that youngest also has had to deal with. But whatever the reason, I now have two, sometimes, out of control boys to deal with on a daily...hourly...minutely basis. So with hubby/daddy along for the ride, it would essentially be like one on one since there were two of us, right? If only. Monday we decided to keep youngest home from his preschool because he had a cold all weekend and decided to wake up at 5 am that morning. I have very little motivation to get moving on anything less than 8 hours of sleep, so the snotty nose and hoarse cough were enough for me to stay in bed, while hubby/daddy got up with the boys. It is now Thursday and I honestly do not remember how the rest of that day went.
Day Two of Spring Break. It started out great. We got youngest to school, went to the library with oldest and then to a coffee shop to look at books while we waited for youngest to be done. We came home got some lunch and then I had to trek to my hometown 45 minutes away to get my taxes done cheaper than I could in the big city. Well, the saying goes you get what you pay for...I was quoted about $600 to do my taxes here in the big city, and while I didn't get a direct quote for hometown place, it was almost guaranteed to be under $200. It is $130 to them all on my own through Turbo Tax so I thought this was surely a deal. Long story, short, he refused to help me and I wasted my time going there. My grandma does taxes as well, but since I started my business I had some questions for "a professional" but she could still help me with the actual taxes and filing, so I headed there instead. However, it ended up taking the rest of the afternoon into evening, so by the time I call home to let the boys know I'm on my way, they are in official meltdown mode. Between, trying to make dinner and taking care of the boys, hubby/daddy was spent and the boys didn't sound much better (from what I can hear in the background). I rush home to a late dinner and tantrums from all members of the family.
Day Three. The morning and afternoon go pretty smooth. We take youngest to preschool, and cute little guy (age 2) comes over for me to watch for a couple hours. Youngest is still in school and oldest and cute little guy hit it off great. Youngest gets home, and the fits start. Youngest is having a hard time understanding that cute little guy is going to be playing with his toys. After being "stuck" at home and inside, because of stupid Ohio winter in spring, I want to get out of the house. We don't really have anything planned for dinner so I suggest going out to eat. Hubby/Daddy thinks this is not a great idea and perhaps we should order and bring home. By 4 I am READY to be out of the house, and while hubby/daddy is trying to re-caulk our tub (and throwing his own fits) I'm determined we are going out to eat. So I leave with the boys and tell hubby/daddy to meet us there while I get the table and the boys settled. A new Olive Garden opened up two minutes from our house AND I had a gift card so what better option do we have. I left at 4:30 so that the new restaurant would be devoid of a rush and only old people would be there that would think the boys were oh- so-cute. Dadddy/Hubby arrives right after I order and the bread sticks and salad had just been served and the boys were being fantastic. I was like of course they are. But of course that does not last and as soon as the food is brought out youngest decides he wants to climb under the table. Unable to catch him he resurfaces with his backhoe that we didn't even realize he had in the first place. However, he is still not subdued so daddy takes him on a little walk. This only helps long enough for us to scarf down our meal and for daddy to leave with youngest (thank goodness we drove separate) and oldest YELLING, "I want Daddy" because he is now stuck with me. Of course before leaving youngest manages to get under the table again and comes back up with yet another toy we didn't realize he dropped (could we have avoided this whole scene?). Much to my disappointment I had to admit that hubby/daddy was right. So my big plans for going to Dave and Busters after dinner are now foiled and I'm left to return blinds to Wal-Mart (which is another story in itself).
4. Youngest (and Mommy) have terrible nights sleeping, so we decided to keep youngest home yet again because now his nose is a faucet and his cough is worse. Instead hubby/daddy takes him to the doctor to find out, yes indeed he has another ear infection. When youngest gets home he is a BEAR to deal with. He refuses to let me out of his sight and is crying and screaming when I am not carrying his 35 pound little (ok, big) self around. At one point in the day, oldest and youngest simultaneously melt down and I don't know how much more I can take. I mean honestly, I feel like 75% of my time with the boys is breaking up fights, saying no, and yelling. How do so many people do this and get through it? I mean I am a well-educated person, with a husband for help and support, only two children, and a background in child behavior, what the hell am I doing wrong? I feel like my nerves are frayed and I see no break in the future. Then I get really hard on myself because I do have all of the above and I feel like I'm drowning. How do other people do it? I see families out with well-behaved children, and while I always knew that would be me, because I knew what I was doing and I was so naively awesome, that now I'm scrambling to make sense of it all.
I think parenting has become something more than it ever has before, because as a society we have more time and money and effort to put into it. I could almost guarantee (without finding the facts right now) that at-home parenting is increasing tremendously because people can afford it (or can't afford not to) and are investing more of their efforts into parenting because they have that to invest. Most people in society are not going on survival mode, we are not sharing one-bedroom houses with our extended family and splitting peas for a meal, we have excess to some extent so we have time to focus on our children. However, I think this focus has become somewhat of an obsession. Everywhere you look there is parenting advice, the next newest parenting trend and no matter how much this may be "helpful" it is overwhelming and causing us to question our own parenting. I am starting a business and part of that is parenting classes, but I often feel how in the world can I stand there and educate parents on child development and behavior techniques when I feel like I am failing myself. But I guess that's just it. I'm not alone. I never intended my classes to be a typical lecture class, but rather a community support group, if you will. While I do have the "book knowledge" on how to raise a child and deal with behaviors, putting that into practice is a whole other issue. When I first started writing this, my youngest was upstairs taking a nap (screaming in his crib) and I was furious, frustrated, sad, and overwhelmed. However, I am finishing this at midnight in the peace and quiet of children slumbering and I feel better, more hopeful, and yes I am doing a good job as a parent, there are just going to be some bumps along the way. The good thing is that you forget them soon enough, so soon that by midnight you are planning a trip to visit the Easter bunny in the morning and have expectations for a pleasant trip out to the mall where you will take lovely pictures of your two angels smiling on the Easter bunnies lap (insert picture of kids screaming?).
