There’s a song by Kings of Leon with the lyric “..take the time to waste a moment.” The first time I heard this verse, I wrote it down so that I could reflect on ways I could do this. I thought that wasting time with my husband or my kid would be a good choice. Or with both of them together. Perhaps wasting some time to take the dog for a nice long walk when I’m supposed to be washing dishes or folding clothes. Or maybe just doing something for myself that can bring me some inner calm. Any of those would be great ideas of how I could put into action the words I heard.
But of course, I got to thinking—why do we have to be reminded to do this kind of thing yet we find ourselves constantly wasting time on Twitter, Facebook or any other commonplace activity? Why are we okay to waste time bingeing Netflix shows but have to be coerced into wasting time with our loved ones? I have found myself swiping through pictures and videos on Instagram, of persons I don’t even follow, before I realize forty-five minutes have passed. But I will quickly turn up my nose at my kid if I’m asked to look at some box she’s made out of a box. (This is not a typo. I have literally been shown a dismantled shoe box, cut up and re-taped back into a proud square!)
I’ve never taken much time to look and see what the song is actually about. I could be taking this one lyric out of context and changing the entire meaning of the song. But I did feel that verse sent a good message that we should take time to waste moments so that we can recharge ourselves or reconnect with whomever we deem necessary. This is some sound and good advice that we should strive to heed from time to time. Stop being so quick to rush to the next monotonous and mundane chore that we have to fill every day. Stop carrying the rushed and over worked attitude that we got when we left the office. All we are doing is running toward our next stressful situation!
Whether I am interpreting the song correctly to having a profound meaning or not, I really hope that I can be better about setting more meaningful, as well as necessary, time-wasting moments.
I have a 6-year-old kid. And kids do crazy things that get themselves into trouble. But I find that I am now having a hard time coming up with proper and effective ways to discipline my daughter when she does something I do not favor.
Let me give you an example. My daughter recently picked up the habit of holding spit bubbles in her mouth and rolling them around with her tongue. Well, I find this nasty. Here I am trying to talk with her and she’s not able to answer me because she has to swallow the tablespoon of spit she has let collect. Or I look around the room and lovingly gaze at the profile of my daughter (if you knew me, you would immediately tag this for the exaggeration that it is) before she turns toward me and reveals the spasmodic seizure bubbles she’s harboring in her mouth! Again, it’s just nasty.
So I have tired myself of gently chiding her about it, which then moved to yelling at her about it, which graduated to threats of doing something about it, until I had to come up with some form of discipline. Well, what the heck kind of discipline is a parent to dish out for a spit-hoarder? What kind of punishment fits that crime?! I threatened the discipline so of course I had to follow through with it and create one. But when it came time to, I lacked all imagination.
In talking with friends, I have found that I am not the only person finding stress in this area. One friend has three boys, and says she will make them do exercises as a form of discipline. Didn’t clean the kitchen? 50 push-ups. Forgot to take out the trash? 15 suicides in the backyard and so on. I actually like this idea. But call me a feminist (believe me, I am not) because I felt like this was great–but more so for boys. Does that make sense? No. Because my daughter would actually hate to do any form of exercise. It would probably be the perfect route to take. But then I would have to stand there and watch her do it all. To ensure she actually finishes the allotted chore. So, whereas I have not taken this off the table of ideas, I still have not implemented it into my repertoire. (Yes, I’m lazy.)
I have another friend who takes away all electronics from her girls and sends them to their room. This worked until she found them cuddled up reading books to each other and enjoying themselves. Under normal circumstances, this would be a parent’s dream–bickering children now playing in harmony. But not when you are trying to teach a lesson. So she next had to say no to books–including coloring books. She reminded them that this forced quiet time was to be used to reflect on ways to be better and all that kind of parental garbage talk that we do. Well, she now finds them in their rooms fast asleep! Maybe they are dreaming of their abhorrent acts and of ways to make it up to their parents upon awakening. Though I strongly doubt it! So are they really learning any lessons from this discipline? Or do we just get to enjoy some quiet time away from them? Which in itself is a highlight.
I have sent my kid to her room on numerous occasions. But I am not lucky enough to find her asleep. She sits on her bed with her door open and tries to hold conversations with us as we walk by. She feigns sudden interest in anything she can think of to engage us in some kind of banter. Even if we make her close the door, she will talk through the crack. (Think of Elsa and Anna in the scene from Frozen) So it ends up being more annoying than satisfying at teaching a lesson.
Well, back to this spit habit. I had to come up with something the other day to fulfill my threat of discipline. I was in the moment and felt true pressure on what to choose. My husband wasn’t home so he couldn’t help me. I was on my own. I quickly tried to think back on anything I was forced to do when in trouble in my youth. As the rolodex flipped through my mind, it stopped on a weird page just as a flash of The Simpson’s title sequence with Bart writing on the chalk board flickered in my mind. So that is what I made her do. Write “I will not play with spit” 10 times every time I catch her doing it.
Yes, my husband and sister laughed at me when I told them this. As you quite possibly are doing as well. But it was all I could come up with at the time! So far, she has had to write it 50 times and has 10 in queue as you read. Just this morning she had to write it 20 times before she could watch tv or play with her tablet or even think of putting Barbie in the convertible mini-coop.
Do I think this punishment fits the crime? No. But as I asked before–what punishment would? Do I think this will be effective? I don’t know. The first time she had to do it, she was actually proud of her work! She asked if we could keep it. I’m not sure, but I think she was under the guise that it should be framed!! However, I caught her rolling spit a few minutes ago and when she saw me looking, she quickly swallowed it and said something to the effect that she “had a tickle in her throat and wasn’t playing with spit, just trying to clear her throat”. All of this was said without me saying one word. So maybe, just maybe, it’s working.
We parents have no idea what we are doing. Who knew that we would be trying to concoct methods of punishment for eating toe jam or taping boogers to the wall? Or that our kids would be in the best physical shape of all their classmates without playing even one school sport because they are doing pull ups from not finishing their homework?
I for one am not afraid to admit I have no idea what I am doing as a parent. But I am open to suggestions. I’d love to hear how you are keeping your kids in line and ensuring obedience… 🙂
I have read many articles that talk about the plight of our children today and how many are diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder. Most articles explain how some cause of this could be due to children being overstimulated with too much television, electronics, video games and the like. I am in total agreement with this and try hard to get my daughter to do more throughout a day and not just sit in front of the TV. I try to keep craft projects on hand so that she can have an alternative to all day tube viewing and I sometimes will leave her to her own imagination to come up with constructive things to do. (Which somehow results in a lot of talking to herself–not sure if this will be cause of future concerns! ha)
Anyhow, I say all of this to tell of a recent experience that ground my gears. A friend invited me to a skating party hosted by her son’s school. I felt this would be a great opportunity for some physical activity and looked forward to my daughter learning some sweet disco moves. So imagine my surprise once the games were done and the announcements were made, that a huge screen was pulled down in the middle of the rink that played cartoons during the skating party! Huh?! What was with that? I was so disappointed! There were so many kids who stopped skating to stand in the center of the rink to watch episodes of popular animated series. I had to literally move my daughter away from the screen multiple times to get her to start skating again. And I was not the only parent having to do this!
I didn’t (and still don’t) quite understand why a skating rink would find it progressive to play cartoons while there is loud music playing, neon lights blaring and 100 square feet of available flooring for kids to skate on. If the kids are there to engage in skating, why are you upsetting that plan and adding a television? What would be the purpose? And how do you expect me to try to defer the causes of ADD in my child when I take her to a place to focus on some physical activity and then she’s thrown a curve ball with a need to choose between falling every forty seconds on wheels or standing still to see Beast Boy turn into a gorilla on Teen Titans Go!? On wheels.
Throw me a friggin bone here, people! Help a mother out!
I have mentioned that I have a three-year old. And I have also mentioned some of the challenges she imposes me with. So why not talk some more?
My daughter engages in a list of things that upset me daily. From rubbing Vaseline all over her face and hair to crushing my toes with her “princess heels” as she walks around the house. Or wiping her hands on her pretty dress at dinner rather than on the napkin she just asked for 30 seconds ago. There’s a ton more but I’m sure you get the idea. Well, right now, I am torn as to how I should feel when she does something like, say, pour water all over the counter and floor for no apparent reason or spoons soup out of her bowl and places it under the placemat at the dinner table and proceeds to smash it into the table. Once I realize what she’s done, she immediately shouts out an: “I’m sorry” along with the appropriate level of ‘sad face’ to fit the crime. Although these are the most insincere apologies, they are still well-timed and what I have been training her to say after doing something wrong. The thing is, after one of her befitting apologies, she promptly goes into singing, talking to her dolls or going so far as to tell me how much she loves me! All thought of her recent wrongdoing seem to be erased from her memory and she goes on like it never happened! Doesn’t she realize I just yelled at her and that my blood pressure has gone up at least two systolic decimals and that I’m still angry with her? I recognize that this could be a ploy on her part to deflect my thoughts from deciding to punish her any further than I already have. But nonetheless, here lies my dilemma. The kid has a point–neither of us should be reflecting on the wrong that was just done. We should be moving past it and getting on with our lives. But I don’t want to!!
Even though she is displaying the best attitude to have toward any negative situation, that’s not how it all usually goes is it? When someone offends us or hurts us in any way, we want them to know what they’ve done, realize how it has affected us and to feel some kind of anguish for it. We want them to stand there and listen to us explain how hurt we are and why. Perhaps allow us to delve into soliloquy to truly define the torment and pain they just caused. Then we want them to prostrate themselves at our feet and plead for our mercy. Stress their ignorance to the sensitivity of our emotions and request a plan for how they can do better–no, be better–in the future. After my daughter engages in one of her many transgressions, I want her to carry a ‘look of shame’ for the rest of the afternoon. Bow her head in humiliation any time I walk pass her to show deep remorse for the wrong she has committed. Talk to her dolls about her well-developed plans to be the ideal adolescent for years to come.
But none of that is happening with a toddler, let me tell you. She doesn’t care about the infraction 10 seconds after it occurs. So it is now up to me to let it go myself. I need to remember there is no use crying over spilled milk. Literally. (or juice or soda or oatmeal or ice cream) I have to stop looking for more from her and just accept her apology. However contrived I think it may be.
I’m hoping I can get better with it in time because right now, I’m still battling with it all. But I already see how following the example of my little hellion will be a good trait for me to attain. It’ll help me to be more patient. More forgiving. Less stressed and angry. It’ll enhance what we have together as well as benefit me and all of my relationships. What a good little lesson this little booger is teaching.
So if you catch me fussing at her for grabbing onto clothes as we walk by with our cart, nearly toppling over the rack…just know that I’m really going to try to be done with it after she apologizes. And not fester with anger as I pick up all the items that have fallen to the floor.
I have a three and a half-year old. I have experienced the dreaded “terrible twos” which actually started earlier than two and extended beyond the threes. I’ll venture to say that they are just now starting to subside. Finally. And thank God for that!
I was always told about the “Why?” stage. That my child would bombard me everyday with ‘why’ questions. That I would grow tired of the endless questions like: “why can’t I have it?, why do I have to wear it, why is that blue?” I got myself ready for the endless questioning. But to my surprise, it never came. Sure, she would ask it every once in a while. But in a more controlled and understandable way. It actually made sense when she asked and it was easy to answer and/or explain her request.
But…! (you knew it was one coming, right?) I was never warned of the “Can I have…”stage. No one ever told me how bothersome this phrase would become because of the overuse of it. So I am here to educate you moms and dads of this displeasing and less often mentioned phase of childhood.
I don’t care what it is that I am doing or have in my hand, my child is asking if she can have it as well. I have never counted the number of times my child asks this throughout any given day. But I can tell you that the annoyance from it is considerable. Some things I understand her asking for. The typical things like snacks or treats. The unending request for candy! But it starts to get out of control when she’s asking to have some of my heartburn medicine or some of the Bacitracin I’m putting on the cut in my nose!!
What is it about kids and them wanting any and everything you (or anyone else) have?! My kid won’t even know what it is I’m rubbing on my arms, spraying in my hair or dropping in my eyes. And it doesn’t even matter to her. She must have it. So, all day I am grieved to hear “Can I have some of that?” “Can I taste it?” “Can I smell that?” “Can I have a flashlight?” “Can I have some chapstick?” “Can I have a rock?” I am sitting here and actually calling to mind a plethora of things this kid asks for throughout the day. And I am strongly tempted to write them ALL in here. Just in case you don’t have a child that has gone through this phase. Or maybe you don’t have children at all! Misery loves company and I’d love to share that long list of “Can I have’s” with you. But I don’t want to lose you as a reader. So I better not. lol
I don’t know if my kid traded the ‘why?’ with ‘can I have?’ and that the irritation of both is the same. I can see that being the case. So, if you have been lucky enough to bypass either of these stages in your own children, sing your praises now and rejoice! If not, brace yourself for it. And if you have any warnings for me of any phases I’ve got in store–ones that aren’t abundantly mentioned (and kept secret) such as this one–please share it with me so I can be prepared! Together, we parents can be triumphant!
I am beginning to fear my conversation with others.
I have a little one at home and there is no end to the training that must be done with her daily. The reminders to say “please” and “thank you.” Or the stern voice I use to show her that I mean business. However, I am finding that these ‘toddler talks’ are starting to become the normal template of my conversations. With adults!
I have caught myself on numerous occasions, saying something marginally inappropriate to family members, friends, and even co-workers. Asking folks about going potty or if they need tissue for boogies. Once, after handing my patient her shoes and eye glasses after her procedure, I found myself prodding her with a “What do you say…?” when she didn’t say thank you! And although that little old lady wasin fact rude for not thanking me, it was so not proper for me to scold her!
I have the habit of asking my daughter why she did a certain thing that was perhaps out of line. To get her to reason things out for herself and see the folly of her decision. This too has become my mode of communication with others. Asking “was that a nice thing to do?” or “will that make me happy?”. And finding myself having to laugh things off as a joke once I realize what I’ve just said.
I have been mortified with myself at snapping my fingers to get someone’s attention. Something I do to my daughter when she’s too distracted and not paying me attention. I find myself using “the voice” with my husband when we are in the middle of a tiff or disagreement. You know how men don’t listen very well–they always want to fix things so fast that they’re not really hearing the diagnostics of the problem, right? Well, my husband is no different. I once caught myself sternly telling him: “listen to my words!”. This is something I tell the kid when she’s not focusing on what I’m telling her to do and continues to do what she thinks is best. Well, even though this applies to my husband trying to be Mr. Quick Fix, I’m sure it’s not the best form of communication for marriage mates.
I mean no harm with any of this. But it is really hard to switch out of Mother Mode when I’m talking with others. So far this hasn’t gotten me into too much trouble but I doubt my luck will last indefinitely. The day is going to come when someone won’t be so understanding of my days spent coaching a little one. So let me apologize now if I do this when talking with you. But if you say “please”, wash your hands after you potty and put your toys away, we shouldn’t have any issues. 😉
I am seriously afraid of spiders. I don’t care what kind, size or color. My fear is so bad, that I am scared of dead spiders as well. Yes, I know that is crazy. My husband gets mad at me about this all the time. But even if one is crunched up in a corner dead from a 3 minute spray of Raid, I am still highly afraid of it!
I remember being young and spotting an eight legged freak on the wall and the instant increase of my heartbeat. The immediate fear that would come over me was, and still is, overwhelming. I would call for my dad to please come and kill this living intrusion in my peaceful oasis. But you would have to know my dad. He does nothing at a speed other than what benefits him. I’m sure there is no need to state that killing a spider never meant much to him. So he would take his time. Nope, no kind of “father to the rescue” plans on his agenda. No brownie points for his baby girl to tack on her wall. He’d get there when he got there. This could mean my waiting for a good and full 10 minutes before I would hear the springs of his mattress squeal announcing that he was getting up. And mind you, that didn’t always mean he was coming straight to me. He would maybe take a bathroom break first or check the weather outside the window. All of this while my eyes are glued to the spider having a field trip on my ceiling. I can’t even tell you the stress of watching this nasty little bug crawling all over the place while waiting for my dad to finally come and kill it. The responsibility I had to track it’s every movement until he arrived. I couldn’t walk out and leave it behind. I had to tell my dad exactly where it was so he could get rid of it. So I was stuck in there with it. Watching its every move. When my dad would finally come, I could point to it and finally make my exit to safety. Relieved finally that it was all over. Unless I would hear the words: “I lost ‘im”. Or: “That one got away.” Then came a night of no sleep wondering if it would come to attack me for trying to have it assassinated.
My daughter knows none of this. I am trying my hardest to raise her not to be scared of spiders. Any bugs or critters for that matter. And so far she is not. She has surprisingly picked up dead spiders from our basement when we go down there to watch a movie. “Ugh” she says. “There’s a spider. I’ll get it.” And she struts right into the bathroom to get tissue to pick it up and throw it away. I am amazed at this. Amazed that I’ve kept my fear hidden enough to produce this courage in my kid. But with this comes a funny little caveat. My daughter is still very young. Too young, obviously, to verbalize the difference between spiders and other bugs. So when when my hands are full of groceries that I’m bringing from the garage, she says: “there’s a spider” or I’m driving in the car on the freeway doing 65 miles an hour is when she yells out: “it’s a spider on you, mommy”. Not knowing the absolute terror she is befalling upon me in her lack of differentiating between a spider and say an ant! Or a spider and a fly. A spider and any hybrid of bugs that fly around! To her, every bug is a spider! And she is giving me mini heart-attacks weekly by yelling at me my worst phobia!
Her lack of anxiety from them, causes her to be so relaxed about their presence. Whereas this is what I want for her, it is definitely not what I want for myself! I need everyone to be on high alert with weapons drawn at the sight of a spider. But there is no way for me to have that and still keep my daughter ignorant of my dread. I would hate for her to learn to fear spiders now after she’s shown such courage against them. So my fear has to be hidden. My sweaty armpits at the mention of a spider has to be explained as a hot flash. I have to keep the high pitched volume (that signifies distress) of my voice low when calling for my husband to come and dispose of one on the ceiling. Pretend it’s because dad is taller than me that I have to get him to come and help.
I look forward to the time when her courage against the diabolic arachnid will be solidified and I no longer have to hide my fear. I can call for her to come and kill them and not be embarrassed by the high pitched yell. And in the meantime, just pray that she is always mistaken about the “spiders” we encounter day to day!
I am a first time mom. Along with that comes the stress of constantly wondering if you are raising your kid properly. Because of that, you look for any opportunity that will make you feel good about what you have done so far. Sometimes you may find yourself pulling at straws to find even one tiny little thing the little hellian you created is doing right to finally feel vindicated to wear that “MOM” title.
But remember the saying: “One step forward, two steps back”.
One step forward: I watched my friend’s two little girls for her one day last week. They are both older than my two-year old. I’m gonna say one is four and the other is either six or seven. Very nice girls. After being at my house for a short time, I was a tiny bit surprised how they never said ‘please’ or ‘thank you’. While playing in my living room, they kept jumping on the couches after me asking them numerous times not to. And at one point, someone (no one has admitted to it even to this day) knocked a speaker to our tv off of its stand and just left it on the floor without saying anything. These are not any actions that surprised me due to the kid’s ages. But these things did make me feel good because my daughter was no part of it. She does say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. She even says ‘excuse me’ when you’re talking to someone so as not to interrupt. She was not running across my leather couches while wearing her shoes and she was not jump roping in the middle of my living room. (granted, this last part is because she does not yet know how to jump rope but that’s not the point!)
Needless to say, I spent a small portion of that morning inwardly smiling because I was happy to see that the fussing and continuous hounding on my kid is actually paying off. I was starting to get a little puffed up. Proud even. I was already having the conversation in my head how I was going to discuss my good parenting skills with my husband when he got home from work. Surely he could benefit from the proven techniques I’ve integrated into raising our child!!
Two steps back: Later that afternoon – after a trip to the park, indoor jump roping (as stated) and a quick walk through the woods – it was time for everyone (myself included) to take a nap. I laid all three girls in the bed in the spare room. As is the routine with my daughter, we read two stories. My friend’s oldest daughter could barely keep her eyes open as we read the stories and was halfway asleep by the end. I tucked them all in and eagerly headed toward my own sanctuary. I could barely get out the room when my daughter sits up and calls my name. When she sits up, my friend’s youngest sits up. I soothe her and tuck them all in again. This time, I make it out of the room and almost have the door closed when my daughter sits up and calls me again. When she sits up, again the youngest sits up.
Let me here explain that my daughter is definitely going through the toddler “i don’t want to sleep, ask for more water, ask for another kiss, another hug, please put socks on my feet, door open, light on, babies lined in the right order and sing a song before I can go to sleep” phase. I thought for sure that being with the other two, she would gladly and quickly fall asleep. But after calling me twice, I knew we were going to have a problem. I calmed her down yet again and this time actually made it across the hall into my room before I heard her calling me once more. And you guessed it, when I went back into the room, her and her buddy were both sitting up looking at me. The only difference was that my daughter was looking wide awake whereas her partner was looking droopy-eyed and might I add a little annoyed. I knew this could get bad. So I take my daughter out of there to sleep in her own room. An idea she seemed fine with when I first mentioned it to her. But as I’m sure you can tell, quickly disintegrated. I put my kid in her crib, and she immediately started her list of requests. No matter that I had just filled all of these before laying her down in the spare room with her friends! Well, folks, the kid went into a one-sided screaming match once I told her no more requests would be filled. My child started screaming at the top of her lungs, jumping up and down in her crib while beating on the side. I couldn’t believe it! Surely she knew her friends were hearing all this in the other room. Surely she should be embarrassed to act in such a manner with an audience, right? Ha! Completely wrong, my friends. And no, she did not do this for a few moments and then calm herself. She did this for 45 minutes! No, I didn’t say 4 to 5 minutes, I said FORTY-FIVE minutes. Half the time I couldn’t make out what words she was yelling, but none of it mattered. (i don’t think) Because the racket she caused was unnerving! And all the while, there were two sweet, peaceful and perfect little angels trying to get some sleep in the other room and at the same time allow me to get my rest to be recharged for them for the afternoon. But my kid, the one I was telling you about who says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ sat there screaming like something possessed! She did cry herself to sleep. And you would think the story ended there. And yes, yes it should. But she didn’t stay asleep. She woke up. After only half an hour of sleep. And basically picked up right where she left off. And if you’re wondering–yes, she did wake up the other two. And no, I did not get a nap myself.
I spent the rest of the afternoon wondering what I am to do about this behavior! What should I have done differently so that situation would have gone a lot smoother? How in the world did my friend get her two kids to just lay down and go to sleep without any arguments, bribing or requests? And why the heck wasn’t my husband home to support me with this hellian we created rather than out working a job? Doesn’t he know that I need his help?
So. Do you see why this entry is entitled ‘Toddler Humiliation’? It’s because my kid definitely humbled me last week. After the briefest moment of gloat I’ve ever seen. There are many simple lessons to be learned from this. Two I’m going to mention. Kids are kids and I’ve got to readily accept this roller coaster ride having her has put me on. And I guess my main one is to revel in the good things my daughter does. Be sure to compliment her on them when they happen. But don’t get myself so built up that it’s so shaming when she brings me back down. LOL You got to love her!