Thursday, April 7, 2016

In Which I Turn a Bath Mat Into a Magic Carpet

Are tantrums at this age normal? (I mean five, not thirty-seven, by the way. I'll get to my own tantrums in a bit.)

I don't know what I was thinking, but I didn't expect this. (How many times have I uttered that statement in the last five years???) I assumed this behavior would dissipate after age three, and be totally gone by now. I thought we'd turned some magic corner (those exist, right?), a corner that led to a million questions a day and incessant curiosity, but a corner nonetheless. I mean, he can brush and sometimes even floss his own teeth, for goodness' sakes. I was prepared for the occasional whininess after too little sleep or crankiness caused by low blood sugar. I mean, isn't that what the Snickers commercials are all about? But full on tantrums? Those weren't on my radar.

Then again, what do I know about five year olds?

After a bedtime-routine battle of epic proportions the other night -- including a showdown over the need to pee before bed and a scene that would have been hilarious if there hadn't been so much defiant yelling involved as he HELD ON TO A BATH MAT TO AVOID BEING LIFTED ONTO THE TOILET (well played, sir). Anyway, after this, once I'd gotten him settled in bed or so I thought, talked to him about behavior that's acceptable and behavior that is unequivocally not, Quinn came out, found me in the kitchen, and told me in a small voice that he didn't think I even liked him anymore.

That sound you may have heard?

That was my heart shattering in a million pieces. I'm still looking for a few of the shards on my kitchen floor.

Oh, my boy. My heart. My world. I am so, so sorry for letting you ever feel that insecurity, that doubt.  Look at you; you are perfect.


In that moment the other night, I scooped Quinn up, held him in my arms even though I can tell I'm getting close to a time when I won't so easily be able to manage that feat. I assume my heart will fall apart again when I can't pick him up anymore -- or worse, when he doesn't want me to. I told him that even when he misbehaves, even when we don't like his actions, we will always like him. Always love him more than anything.

I reminded him that sometimes he doesn't like the things I say or decisions I make but he still loves me. (I checked).


And then I thought, of course, of my own mom. How I must've done these types of things to her well into high school and -- oh, yeah -- right up through last weekend when I threw a fit over something she shared with my brother that I wasn't quite ready for him to hear. At worse a minor infraction, in the grand scheme of things. More likely, a misunderstanding. But oh how I yelled. Of course, Quinn heard that fit of mine, asked questions about it, probably formed connections in his developing brain that maybe it's okay to yell at people you love when you're upset.

It's not okay. But it happens. Hey, Mom? I'm sorry.

This week, I'm re-reading No Drama Discipline: The Whole-Brain Way to Calm the Chaos and Nurture Your Child's Developing Mind. A book that tells me to take heart: "The fact is that none of us are perfect, especially when it comes time to deal with our kids' behavior. Sometimes we handle ourselves well and feel proud of how loving, understanding, and patient we remain. At other times, we lower ourselves to our kids' level and resort to the childishness that upset us in the first place. . . .

So here's hope: those not-so-great parenting moments are not necessarily such bad things for our kids to have to go through. In fact, they're actually incredibly valuable.

Why? Because our messy, human, parental responses give kids opportunities to deal with difficult situations and therefore develop new skills. They have to learn to control themselves even though their parent isn't doing such a great job of controlling herself. Then they get to see you model how to apologize and make things right. They experience that when there is conflict and argument, there can be repair, and things can become good again. This helps them feel safe and not so afraid in future relationships; they learn to trust, and even expect, that calm and connection will follow conflict."

I'm highlighting just about every word in this book right now. Yes, some of these outbursts might have to do with us carrying a heavier than normal load of uncertainty lately. Thanks for checking in on me; mostly, we are okay, just regaining our equilibrium as a family and focusing on that calm and connection.

5 comments:

  1. Yep, we face this all the time in our family. We always love each other, apologize for missteps, and keep moving forward.

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  2. I LOVE your voice. Always authentic. xox

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  3. I love how you always try to understand your son's world rather than forcing your own onto him. Not judging those parents who do because I know their intentions are to be good parents. I mean, it is what most of us are familiar with. But I appreciate when a mom goes the extra step and goes out of her comfort zone to see from the other side of the spectrum. That's the kind of mom I would want to be. You are that kind of mom which makes you even a greater mom.

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    1. Thank you for saying so. I sure hope I'm doing this the right way. It's so hard to know; we just do our best. Lots of love your way.

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  4. do you also discuss about the prostate cancer? if true, I want to friends with you to share information about the dangers of cancer ~ (Alice Miles - activists cancer in canada)

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