Mom Chronicles 3

Here was the 3rd edition of the "Mom Chronicles" - enjoy!

July 13,09


The Mom Chronicles: Reaching Out
Today I find myself feeling thankful for having this place to come, not just to be able to reach out and offer support to all of you, but to take my turn in asking to be supported as well. For those of you who have been here to this column before, you may notice this one has more of a serious, more solemn tone. I think you can understand and perhaps appreciate that as moms, and even just as people, things can sometimes get to feeling much larger than we are. Thankfully, this column was not just about having a place to come and laugh, but to also be able to come to and be real, and that is where I find myself today.

If I were to choose one word to summarize this last week it would be “challenging”. Several more come to mind such as trying, a roller coaster, eventful, and the like. But I think challenging sums it up because it offers some hope in the fact that it was difficult, but not impossible. I am not an incurable optimist like Michael J. Fox, however, I do find that we do need some hope and some optimism in life working out to be able to just survive each day and choose to be there for the next. In saying the last week was “challenging”, I recognize it was hard, and that it was survived. And I am thankful for that.

So what made the last week so “challenging” you ask? It was two fold. Let me precede those reasons, however, in saying that as moms we frequently do not appreciate unsolicited advice. If another person, especially a non-parent sort of person, tells us how to do or not do something involving our kids, we tend not to appreciate it so much. In putting my story out there I understand that some of you may feel the urge to offer advice or throw in your two cents. In these circumstances, I welcome it freely. There are times we just want to do things our way and times we are throwing up the white towel and proclaiming “I need help!”. The is one of the latter times.

The first, and completely unrelated to anything in a parenting kind of column, is that my grandmother has been quite sick due to stroke, infection, etc and in the hospital. She has now been diagnosed with breast cancer that has moved to her hip. As I sat and combed her hair for her while visiting her in the hospital this past week, I reflected on all the times she had been there for me, and how deeply I will miss her when she is gone. She told me when I left that I am her biggest advocate. Quite contrary. She has always been mine. So with her laid up, I come to you for help on my current dilemma: my son.

My son is three. I think I have come to terms with that. And in addition, in my head to survive the 2s as a virtually single parent, I chose to believe that when he turned three, a light bulb was going to go off and suddenly- walla! All the behaviors, and challenges and difficulties we had at two, were going to vanish and he would evolve in to this compliant, well behaved, three year old. No, I was not drinking when I fantasized that. Well, as we all know, that doesn’t just happen just because we turn the page on another year, and I find myself with the same child, who just happens to be a little bigger and a calendar year older. So what’s a mom to do? The first I believe is to accept that I can not change the past. In my son’s three years of life, we have moved 3, soon to be 4 times. He went from having two parents around, to one, and one that unpredictably for him comes and goes. He has changed day care providers 4 times, before now settling on one we adore. Not to mention, our family grew by adding a child.

What this has meant for him that that there have been two constants in life: mom, and change. Up to this point he has done fairly ok. More recently, the two worlds have collided as he is getting better at expressing himself, and let’s just say, I am reaming the benefits. My once sweet, kind, gentle son has turned in to one that hits, spits, bites, throws things at myself and his sister. We are VERY obvious when we go out in public (which reminds me, I would like to apologize to the Applebees staff for his “performance” last week, and yes, his finger is fine) and most of the time I leave feeling defeated and mortified. As a mom, I have tried many angles, time outs, 1-2-3, ignoring it, the occasional spank on the butt (I hear the gasps), and taking privileges away. In the advice I have received I have heard “be consistent”, “be firm”, “be patient”, “stay calm”. And yet as the moments simmer down, and I reflect on how I handled such and such situation, I shake my head and feel like I have failed. And I am horribly confused. My son and I have priceless moments like we shared last night, when he crawled up on the couch next to me, put his little arm around my back and said “love you, mommy” and sat and watched TV next to me. In those times I see that sweet, wonderful little boy that I loved and cherished before I even knew him. But in a flash, those times go away and are replaced by this child that is angry, spitting at me, hitting at me, saying “shuck up (because he can’t say shut up) mommy” or “just leave me be”, and I wonder where I have gone wrong. Where did I fail him, and myself?

Enter the primary sin of mothers: self sabotage. I am notorious for doing this. Yet, I have noticed I have done it more so lately, as I have begun questioning my parenting ways. You know what it is. Taking a perfectly wonderful situation or experience and sabotaging it by thinking of something that puts a damper on it. We went swimming this weekend, twice actually, at a fantastic little man made lake. Saturday evening my son and I jumped in and swam in our clothes and had the most amazing, memorable time. On the way home, as I clicked through the pictures my husband had taken on the camera, my joy quickly dwindled as I critiqued my horrific appearance in a body, much larger than I ever wanted. Perhaps that came from running in to an old high school friend earlier in the day that recognized me but barely due to my frame carrying 70 more pounds more than it did since high school, but as I did that, in that moment, I realized just how much I do that. How many times have I taken a perfectly wonderful outing with my kids and dwelled on one minute part of it that didn’t go well and throw the rest of the experience out the window because of that one little thing? How many times has the positive energy in an experience been replaced with negative when something goes wrong?

This thought process posed an interesting question. Is it really that my son is “so bad” all the time and I have completely failed at being a mom, or is it that I am just hanging on to those times? Everyone who meets my son would agree that he is “busy”. However, they also tell me how sweet, and polite and cute he is. When he is not making a scene in church or at a restaurant, or hitting his sister, or saying “no”, yes, he is indeed a remarkable little boy. And perhaps there lies my answer. Perhaps my approach has been backwards this whole time. Instead of thinking first at the wonderful little boy I created, I think about all the icky stuff and how a nice boy lies behind it. Perhaps instead, I should think about the amazing little boy I have, who just happens to challenge me sometimes. Perhaps if my own approach is that he is mostly “good”, I will be more positive and patient in my approach when he is not, which usually he is more receptive to. If I have it in my mind that he is “SO bad” my patience in dealing with the things I don’t so much appreciate, usually quickly dissipates. Does this change our past? No. Does it make him less wanting to push me because I am the consistent one he trusts to be there even if he is “naughty”- no? But I think it gives us hope. Don’t you? Perhaps this was just the “ah ha” moment I needed. I will let you know how it goes. In the mean time, thanks for being there to listen when grandma can not. I will keep you posted on her progress.