There is strength in numbers. I went out with the ladies last night - other tired, frazzled moms. As we talked, laughed, bitched, and complained, I discovered something amazing. I am not the only mom who feels overwhelmed on a daily basis. My kids are not the only ones who fight with each other. My kids are not the only ones who don't listen to me sometimes. I am not the only one who has had to scoop up my kids and leave a public place abruptly. Who knew there were other moms out there who didn't do everything perfectly and have perfect kids? Where have these moms been hiding all my life. Feeling reassured that CPS will not be knocking on my door any day now, I went to bed confident that I am a halfway decent parent. Today brought a chance to reaffirm my belief in my parenting skills and my wonderful children. I hosted a playgroup at my house. I prepared Christian for the invasion of other tiny people who will want to play with, touch and look at his toys. I reminded him that he would have to share, take turns and play nicely. He nodded and smiled at his crazy mom with her even more insane ideas of people breaking and entering to steal his toys. Guess what? Kids came. They played with his toys and he freaked. They were playing with them wrong. How dare they want to play WITH HIM? What is wrong with these tiny people? Any why weren't their moms restraining these little maniacs? Who do they think they are, coming into his house and touching his things? After a very awkward, emotional and noisy 30 minute adjustment period, he discovered that the world wasn't coming to an end and he could play with these kids just fine (mostly). Luckily for both of us, the moms stuck it out. He had fun chasing kids around and playing with them instead of against them. It's a catch-22. He would be better at sharing his loot if he got used to it. But, given the way way he recoils in horror at the prospect of someone else's grubby little hands touching his priceless, irreplaceable toys, who, in their right mind, would bring their kid over? So, moms out there, please have patience with him. Bring your kid over. I "swear" it will get better. And if it doesn't, I will have really good snacks.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
It's NOT just me!!! Or my kids.
There is strength in numbers. I went out with the ladies last night - other tired, frazzled moms. As we talked, laughed, bitched, and complained, I discovered something amazing. I am not the only mom who feels overwhelmed on a daily basis. My kids are not the only ones who fight with each other. My kids are not the only ones who don't listen to me sometimes. I am not the only one who has had to scoop up my kids and leave a public place abruptly. Who knew there were other moms out there who didn't do everything perfectly and have perfect kids? Where have these moms been hiding all my life. Feeling reassured that CPS will not be knocking on my door any day now, I went to bed confident that I am a halfway decent parent. Today brought a chance to reaffirm my belief in my parenting skills and my wonderful children. I hosted a playgroup at my house. I prepared Christian for the invasion of other tiny people who will want to play with, touch and look at his toys. I reminded him that he would have to share, take turns and play nicely. He nodded and smiled at his crazy mom with her even more insane ideas of people breaking and entering to steal his toys. Guess what? Kids came. They played with his toys and he freaked. They were playing with them wrong. How dare they want to play WITH HIM? What is wrong with these tiny people? Any why weren't their moms restraining these little maniacs? Who do they think they are, coming into his house and touching his things? After a very awkward, emotional and noisy 30 minute adjustment period, he discovered that the world wasn't coming to an end and he could play with these kids just fine (mostly). Luckily for both of us, the moms stuck it out. He had fun chasing kids around and playing with them instead of against them. It's a catch-22. He would be better at sharing his loot if he got used to it. But, given the way way he recoils in horror at the prospect of someone else's grubby little hands touching his priceless, irreplaceable toys, who, in their right mind, would bring their kid over? So, moms out there, please have patience with him. Bring your kid over. I "swear" it will get better. And if it doesn't, I will have really good snacks.
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