Because Babies Grow Up

I’m sitting at the park’s sandbox with my girls. There are also a couple of young boys playing in the sand. The younger starts doing something, I don’t even remember what anymore, and his grandfather comes over to talk to him. The kid listens, is good for a moment, then returns to his mischief. Grandfather returns and disciplines the boy again. The third time the grandfather comes over, I start thinking.

Not about what the grandfather is doing or how he is disciplining. Rather, I’m thinking of how he must feel about having to do this in front of me. I’m wondering if he’s wondering about what I’m thinking of his (grand)parenting. I’m reflecting on how I discipline the girls when we’re in public.

Who am I to judge, but it’s hard not to notice when other parents/grandparents are interacting with their children. We’ve all experienced how hard parenting in public is. Are you more relaxed with your children or more firm in your expectations of their behavior? Are you “nicer” than at home?

I’m definitely aware of how I might come across when I discipline in public. But I try not to let the environment determine how I parent. I know the values I’m trying to instill in our children and I try to stay true to them. When I see people become uncomfortable with the girls’ behavior I do try to reign it in a bit. Not because I don’t want the stink eye from the adult who isn’t empathetic to my plight, but rather because I’m trying to be considerate and aware of my surroundings. I want to teach the girls to be polite and courteous so I try to model that behavior.

Now with that said, I do try to be more patient than I sometimes am at home. I pay more attention to heading off situations that require discipline by distracting the girls. I use a lot of finger plays and songs to entertain them in lines or anywhere that we have to wait. I strive to be my best self. It’s exhausting! Ah well, promise you won’t judge, even if you notice! Thanks. I’ll return the favor.

I was not prepared for resentment to be a part of my motherhood experience. Resentment is like Motherhood’s dirty little secret lurking in the shadows of unsuspecting places. I knew motherhood would be hard and require sacrifice, but I assumed I’d joyfully sacrifice for my little ones and that they, in this ideal scenario, would quickly and perfectly respond to my efforts to quiet and calm them.

I knew that I would sacrifice sleep as my little ones would wake in the night with needs ranging from hunger and diaper changes to soft, comforting words after a bad dream. I was so unprepared to resent them for stealing my precious sleep from me and then being so uncooperative by not returning immediately to sleep. I was also unprepared for the resentment I’d feel toward my darling husband who can peacefully sleep through just about anything.

I find myself resenting the constant need for attention every detail of my life seems to require. The moment my mind takes a break from even the smallest detail it immediately requires my full and undivided attention. I woke at 5:00 am with a stuffy nose, unable to breath, and heard the heater running. My fuzzy brain seemed to recall seeing the thermostat set high because yesterday was a cold, wet day. But when I went to bed, I didn’t think to check the thermostat and reset it for a comfortable night’s sleep. I resent the dumb thermostat that is ridiculously difficult to set and therefore requires daily, even hourly, attention during the volatile spring weather we have in Utah.

I didn’t realize that I had so many hobbies and interests that are not directly related to caring for my babies. I also didn’t realize how little time I would have to devote to them, or even to enjoy them on occasion. I resent that it takes me a month or more to read a book, if I even have the energy to get my hands on a book I want to read. I resent the ordeal associated with trying to sew and that by the time I have everything set up and ready to go, it’s time to clean it up and make dinner.

And even though I am choosing to be a stay-at-home mom while my husband works and goes to school to prepare for his career, I resent that he gets to leave the house carefree each day. He has only himself to get ready and then he’s off to his responsibilities. Whereas I have three people to get ready in order to leave the house and it’s always a production, from missing shoes to dirty diapers to messy clothes to one more trip to the potty. And when we finally find ourselves walking out the door, I look down to discover I am wearing my slippers!

I resent that all this came flooding out of me on a Sunday morning when I would much rather enjoy the peace of the Sabbath day than vent my frustrations. I was not aware that I would find it so difficult to make time for my spiritual self. While getting ready to go to church still fills me with the anticipation of the calm and strength I find there, it is also a busy, chaotic rush to get ready and I miss the quiet time of getting ready by myself that allowed me to also prepare spiritually.

But I would choose it again. Even as I wrote all these moments of resentment, I smiled as I remembered the sweetness of my precious little ones and the kindness of my husband, who, upon returning home, shoos me from the kitchen so I can have a moment to myself while he finishes dinner.

I don’t know how this story ends, but I think, I pray I’ve reached the climax of this chapter.

I have seen it so often in other families where the older children are coaxed into a certain behavior with the explanation: “You need to set a good example for your younger sibling.” I’ve never been much of a fan of this type of coaxing, but I will tell you, when nothing else has worked, I’ve been tempted to use it!

It got me thinking, though, about the kind of example I’m setting. I had a great day the other day where two parenting moments where juxtaposed in such a way that I was forced to acknowledge my inconsistency. First, Sammi wasn’t listening and not listening and finally I raised my voice and yelled, “Stop grabbing your sister’s arm! Please!” Then, not 10 minutes later Sammi yelled “No!” at me and I heard myself say, “Please don’t yell. We don’t yell in our family.” We don’t? I forgot to tell myself that same thing just moments earlier!

While contemplating what type of example I was setting for my children, I attended an amazing lunch with Mom It Forward‘s Jyl and Carissa. We listened to women speak on finding balance in various aspects of our lives. Muffy Mead-Ferro spoke on Balance in Parenting based on her book Confessions of a Slacker Mom. She spoke of the example we set for our children and it completely changed my perspective!

As a writer, Muffy needs time to write. She blocks out time in her day to write and she tells her children that she needs to be left alone so she can write. As she explained this principle, she also shared some of the criticism she’s received. Namely, people gasp and ask how she can ignore her children while she writes! Aside from it providing an opportunity for her kids to learn to entertain themselves, she explained the example she was setting for her children by following her passion. By setting aside time for her writing and by enforcing that she be left alone to work, she’s showing her children a part of who she is and what’s important to her. She’s setting an example of how to succeed at something she wants to accomplish.

By focusing on the positive example I want to set for my children, I’ve found fewer instances of my own bad example. It takes more work, since I have such little ones, to plan how they will be occupied while I pursue interests and hobbies. We’ve had success, though!

For example, I really wanted to make a vision board which involves a lot of flipping through magazines, cutting and gluing. I knew that Sammi would be all over that and I would find it difficult to stay focused on what I wanted out of the project. First, I did all my flipping and cutting at night when she was sleeping. But once I finished the cutting, I was too excited to put it together to wait for another night. So, I cleared off the table, found three magazines just for Sammi, a pair of Sammi-safe scissors, and a glue stick. I taped a large strip of butcher paper to the table and sat her in her chair. I let her go to town on the cutting and gluing. These are usually heavily supervised activities so she was thrilled to cut and glue as much as she wanted. Then I put my large piece of paper on the other end of the table. I was able to lay out my whole vision board and get all the pictures glued down before Sammi lost interest in her own project!
We were able to work side by side, which is toddlers’ favorite form of play (parallel play), and I was able to show her that Mommy does her own projects, too. So often the projects we work on are just for Sammi or she’s the only one who has a finished picture or what ever at the end to show for our time. So, I will continue to monitor the example I am setting for my children and try to focus on setting positive examples that encourage independence and creativity.

I know parents, and people in general, have strong, even passionate, opinions about spanking as a form of discipline. I have not been opposed to spanking when used removed from emotion and in conjunction with an explanation. Recent experiences have begun to change my mind, though.

Spanking, if used at all, should only happen when the parent has stepped back from the situation and chooses, rationally to use a spanking to discipline. I recently read in one of my parenting magazines a statistic that astounded me. It said parents who spank are more than 50 % more likely to move on to more severe forms of corporeal punishment. Shortly after reading that I had an insightful conversation with a neighborhood mom.

I mentioned spanking Sammi for some reason and she responded that she did not spank, anymore. She had found that when she spanked her son it was easy to give in to that anger and spank maybe harder or more times than were necessary. Her words resonated with me. I have cut spanking out of my discipline for very similar reasons, especially once Sammi was potty trained and no longer had the protection of a diaper on her bottom.

It’s hard to admit that I have a temper and I’m not perfect. But facing that truth head on has changed the dynamics in our home. Sammi still gets in trouble and I still get frustrated. But now we each take a time out and come back together to talk about it. Sometimes I don’t think time-outs are very effective, but as I look back on it, neither is spanking. I’m a better mom as I learn to control that anger and not give in to it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never gotten to the point where my reaction was abuse, but I could see how easy it would be to fall down that slippery slope and become part of that statistic, being more than 50% more likely to use more severe forms of physical punishment.

So while I may not be opposed to spanking itself, I am wary of the consequences for the parent of spanking. I don’t want my children to be afraid of me or my temper and the only way to ensure that is to cut out anything that allows me to give in to my anger. I think the next component of my discipline that needs work is my scowl. I want my children to remember my happy eyes, not my wrinkled-up forehead!