I’ve felt like quite the parenting failure lately. Want proof?
Last week as I picked up Kaylie from school she said to me, “Why didn’t I have a lunch today?”
“There was no lunch in my lunch bag today! But that’s okay. Some people shared with me.” FAIL
(That beard-ish thing Liliana is sporting? It’s dirt. Yes, yes it is.)
Last night the girls were playing on Kaylie’s bunk. The top bunk. I warned Liliana that if she stood up, she would have to come down. I gave her two chances. Then I took her down. She screamed and flailed and threw the biggest fit I’ve seen her throw in a while. It was almost bed time anyway, and she was already ready for bed, so I put her in her own bed, turned off the light, and shut the door. (Typical bedtime routine, but without the prayer.) (Although I’m sure God would be able to hear over the screaming, I was going to wait until she was calm.)
She screamed and screamed and banged on the door and screamed. I went in there mostly calm, talked to her in a mostly calm manner, and shut the door as I normally would have.
She screamed and screamed and banged on the door and screamed. I went in there not so calm, talked to her in a stern manner, and shut the door as I normally would have.
She screamed and screamed and banged on the door and screamed. (Is this a Robert Munsch book?) I was not at all calm anymore. She kicked me when I tried to put her back in her bed and made my ears ring. I took her kicking and screaming to the bathroom to wipe her nose. I hit my hand hard on the door knob. I pretty much lost it. I wanted to throw her in her bed. I wanted to spank her. I could feel my blood boiling. My head was about to explode.
(Side note: we don’t spank. Not because we believe spanking is wrong, but because we believe that spanking when you’re angry is wrong.)
I took her back to her room, laid her down, talked to her very sternly, and walked out. It was all I could do to keep from slamming the door. I thought, What would that be teaching Kaylie if I did that? I didn’t slam it. My self-control level was at about 1%, just enough to keep me from completely blowing a fuse.
Liliana eventually stopped screaming, but didn’t fall asleep until after 9:30pm. (Which means Kaylie didn’t fall asleep until after 9:30 either, but she was being good.) I had Why the heck did I have children? thoughts going through my head. I’ve been getting into the habit of lounging on the couch watching my DVR’d shows until about 10 or 10:30pm and then cleaning the kitchen and living and heading to bed at about 11. Last night though, I fell asleep on the couch exhausted from the tantruming and didn’t wake up until Noah came home from work at 3:30am. I think he was shocked to see me there instead of curled up in bed with the portable DVD player that I usually leave on his pillow. (I’m nice like that.)
The age of two is fun. But I could do without the tantrums.
I’m not looking for encouragement here. I’m all good, I just have my failure moments. They pass. They always do. When I check on the kids before I go to bed and see them sleeping soundly, all is forgiven and forgotten. (And by forgotten, I mean I blog about it so that it stays around until the end of time.)