Thank goodness Chris and Claire have adventurous spirits.  They try on each church with excitement.

I was a few minutes early to the service today, giving us enough time to use the bathroom and find the Sunday School room.

As we walked down the hall we passed an amazing sight.  There were thirty to forty elderly women and men standing together in bright white cotton robes with white sashes lining their collars.

One man in particular was breath-taking.  He stood over six feet tall with white hair and a long white beard.  Picture Santa but taller and thinner.

At this sigh my son, Chris, looked up at me and said with as much clarity and conviction as an almost six year old can muster, “Mom, that must be where all the angels gather.”

Maybe it was because the sight was so amazing.  Maybe it was his innocence.  But my breath caught in my throat and my eyes began to sting.

My boy saw his first angels.

At that moment I knew today was going to be a great day.

Angels on Earth, or at least at church

“Yes, he’s an African American just like President Obama.”

“Ya, and did you know that Martin Luther King Jr. tried to ride a bus that light tan people were riding on? And the dark brown people were not allowed to ride it and they kicked him off!!??”

“Really??”

“So Martin Luther King Jr. solved the problem and  just made everyone dark brown so then they could all ride the bus!  Isn’t that cool??”

“Yes, very!”

The conversation BC had with me the other day was so sweet and innocent.  But I think the thing I enjoy  the most is that having this conversation made me appreciate even more that we live in a community where my kids are surrounded by people of all different colors, beliefs, and orientations.  And my kids will grow up to know that no matter who a person is and whether or not you have the same beliefs or skin color, people are people and we can all get along.

For that I am so grateful!

MLK Jr. from a 4 year old’s perspective

Me: Note to self… no more peeing in the ocean in front of my son…

BC on the recent election…

BC:  I wish John McCain won.  I mean I LOVE the way Barack Obama’s face looks, but John McCain’s name is WAY cooler.

Me:  ?????

I Know How Green Is Made

NOooo, I’m more like thinking, “Oh my gosh.  This is the BEST leverage EVER!!  My son will KILL me for this in 12 years time.”  Heh!

I’m a horrible, horrible mom. Really, I am.

Let me back up.  We’ve been dealing with some pretty shocking 4 year old tantrum behavior from our son.  It started back in August, just a month after his fourth birthday.  I immediately began researching (thank God for Google!!) tantrum behaviors, anxiety, and just about anything I could find related to the subject.  The results were minimal.  Not much seems to be written about this stage in life.

BC’s behavior and the root cause of why he was acting out consumed us.  It’s all we talked about.  Not knowing why was about as hard as not knowing how to stop the actual behaviors.  I started reaching out to friends.  Asking if they dealt with similar problems when one of their children was four.

The resounding answer?

Yes.

Most every mom I spoke to had or has a child going through this phase.  With this realization, about 10 pounds lifted off my shoulders.

My son is not broken.  He’s testing.

I can deal with testing.  Broken?  No.  Testing, abso-freaking-lutely!

Once we realized the root of BC’s tantrum behavior was a struggle for power I was able to jump into action.

Tantrums at our house happened generally during three different times.

1. School Drop-Off

During the drop off at school BC’s behavior went from sweet, loving, and outgoing to horrible, thrashing tantrum behavior.  We called ahead to the school, let them know of the new developments and created a plan with the teachers.  We’d bring BC to school (kicking and screaming) and the teachers would peal him out of our arms.  We’d quickly say goodbye and leave.

And then I’d cry.

Each day we applied this technique, it took a total of 10–15 minutes before he was calm and playing with the other kids happily.

This lasted for 4 class sessions.  At that point, BC decided to attend school happily.  Phew!!

2. Time Outs

One day BC decided that he would not sit on a time out any longer.  This is when all negotiations in our house came to an end.  He must obey.  We attempted the Supernanny technique of putting the child back to time out without any eye contact, emotion, or communication.

This was hard.  I got mad.  I was tired.  So was my son.

But I did it.  The first time it took 57 minutes of continuously putting him back on time-out. There a LOT of screaming, crying, kicking etc. before he’d stay.  But he stayed.

This was by far the hardest thing I’d ever done.  But I did it and it made each additional time-out we dealt with so much easier.

The next time-out took 17 minutes of ‘put backs’ before he stayed.

That was the last time he tested so severely during his time-outs.

3.  Bedtime/Nighttime

This was the hardest tantrum for us to break.  First we were very concerned because we knew that our son was effected by my grandmother’s death this summer.  Her funeral was the first time he saw me cry.  He knew my  grandma and missed her terribly.  The nighttime routine became torturous for us.  It began to take about an hour to put BC down, and there were still no guarantees that our tactics would work.  Half the nights ended in a full blown hour-long tantrum as we attempted to leave the room.  By the end of the fit, we were sitting with/ laying with/ holding our son.

Totally ineffective.

This was our final frontier.  We had to move past the nighttime tantrum in order to be freed from this horrible weight that was effecting our entire family.

We finally decided that enough was enough.  I let BC know that then next time he didn’t stay in bed at nighttime he’d be put back to bed over and over again until he stayed.  In addition, I would not talk to him.

At 12:30 a.m. a following day the tantrum began.  In Supernanny fashion, I said, “It’s bedtime darling.”  and placed him in bed.

The second time he got up, I firmly said, “It’s bedtime.”

The third through the 75th time he got out of bed, kicking, screaming, etc. I simply picked him up, put him on his mattress without a word or eye contact.

He was pissed.

But after 35 minutes, he stayed.

That episode was well over a week ago and the last time we had a tantrum in our house.

Helpful Tip:

If I could suggest anything to you as you go through this phase it would be to completely disconnect, emotionally during these episodes.

If you don’t, you may hurt your child, inadvertently, or make the tantrum worse and last longer by reacting.

Disconnect and prepare for a long, drawn out fit.  Because when you decide to change your behavior, your child will push harder to get what he wants.

Disconnect.  Then reconnect when the episode is over.

——————–

Thus concludes my first episode of Learning Through Experience!  Stay tuned for the next episode when I say, “This is NOT a democracy!”

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If you liked this post, you may also like my post on Nighttime Potty Training.

Four year old tantrum

Today you turned 32.  And although you’ve already had a chance to see this podcast, pictures and all, I wanted to post it here so you can come back when you might be doubting the impact you have on our children, or when you are feeling down.

The time you spend with us is profound.  The extra effort you put into getting eClaire to giggle is so wonderful.  The special attention you give BC when you teach him about science, earth, or just how to fix things around the house are forming lasting memories.

When you read to our children in the evenings, you solidify your presence in their lives.

The man you are comes through in the daily actions of your children.  Your daughter is meticulous.  Your son is a gentleman.  Your daughter a so very bright.  Your son is helpful and kind.  Your children reflect you.

I’ve added the video to this post for you to come back to every time you begin to wonder what you really mean to our kids.

You are the best man I know.

Happy Birthday.

Love,

Me

Happy Birthday Hubby!

What the frick??  Seriously?

My solution?  I took his pajama bottoms, looped my finger under the fabric and wiped his butt.  I know, classy!

Unfortunately it was still tickling, so I told him to go into the bathroom and wipe again.  BC then informs me that it’s my fault that his butt was tickling because I didn’t wipe him good enough earlier.

My fault?  That my 4 year old’s butt was tickling??

Again…what the frick??

Once the problem was solved he ran back out to the living room to drop trough and show me his newly cleaned butt.  At this point I was simply laughing too hard to check it again.

Seriously, this was not in the handout when I decided to forgo birth control and become a mother!

I did not sign up for the ‘butthole check’!!!

You little shit.

For weeks he’s been throwing the worst of tantrums at the mention of school.  Let’s not talk about the peel the child off the parent tactic that his teachers had to enact.

Friday?  Fine.

Part (a LARGE part) of me is thrilled.

Part (a LARGE part) of me is pissed.

Now if only he’ll ‘decide’ to take his time-out like a man. 

Stubborn much?

I’m not sure what I fear or why I won’t put my thoughts down on paper during these times.  Maybe it’s because I’m so at a loss that I fear I’ll sound angry or ugly.  I don’t want to be ugly.  Maybe it’s simply that I’m tired and the mental energy it takes to rehash life’s stresses is simply too much.

During the past few weeks, I’ve come to realize how fortunate I am to have started this blog.  It brings so much to my life.  My family knows where my head is without ever having to ask.  Some friends that I’d since lost touch with are now back in my life full swing.  New friends have emerged.  I am truly blessed.

In my last post I spoke of my son’s separation anxiety issues and how overwhelmed we’ve been with him at nighttime.  Well, nights have gotten better but life in general with him has become way worse.  As a response to my previous blog post, a dear friend living on the opposite side of America in part wrote me:

I don’t pretend to be a nature lover so bear with me on the accuracy of these details. Picture a baby bird. It is born in its nest, and the mother bird (much like us) provides everything for her baby. She searches for its food, keeps it warm, fends off predators, and as the baby bird begins to grow in size, strength, and independence, it begins to learn on its own. Over time, the baby bird relies on the mother less and less. She teaches her bird how to fly and together they look for food. Yet, at the end of the day, no matter how much the baby bird has flown on its own, it returns to the nest. It is in the nest that the baby bird finds its warmth, security, and reconnects with mom. While it couldn’t be happier with its new found independence, there is still that need to get home to the safety of that nest.

With each passing year, BC has grown more and more independent. He plays more independently now than ever, he is busy growing and learning at school, he is swimming like a fish and gaining confidence…all these things are letting him stretch his wings and grown. Maybe by the end of the day, he has exhausted that independent energy and needs a few minutes to reconnect and recharge in the nest with you. Isn’t his song, “You are my sunshine”? Perhaps he just needs a few minutes alone each night with you. It seems like that was all it took when you gave him the authority to say when you could leave.

At this response, I cried.  She actually took time out of her busy day to check in on me and see how I am doing.  She spent time researching each problem and concern I emailed her.  She reached out to me from a place we’d never imagined we’d reconnect.  My blog.  Other blogging moms have also come to my aid offering childcare, play-dates, drinks… I’m so grateful.

I’m never one to reach out and ask for help.  I generally try to solve all life’s problems by myself.  Moments like these make me eternally grateful to those who can read between my lines and see that at times I’m just a mom, needing a good shoulder to cry on.

Silence equals stress

I like to pat my own back, toot my own horn, if you will, on occasion.  I generally think I’m gifted in the mothering category.  I got skills!  Or so I tell myself.

But just as I find myself getting cocky again, my dear children smack me down and throw off my equilibrium.  I quickly re-realize how many skills I still need to grow.

Take for example my four year old’s separation anxiety gone haywire.  A veteran mom has her set of tools, a solid bedtime routine, a vision of parenting that goes something like; start as you want to continue. We have routines.  We don’t vary far from the script.  My son knows what to expect.  Life trots along according to plan until *bam* I’m smacked in the face with a severe case of separation anxiety. Him, not me.

Wha…wha…what??  Um, excuse me, that’s not in my script.

This week I reached my breaking point.  I needed help.  Nothing I or my husband did helped calm or sooth BC’s nighttime/transitional fears. NOTHING.

In addition, hearing, “Mama” (A word I despise from the get go, I’m Mommy, thank you very much!) “I need you!” in the same tone and pitch repeated in the same rhythm for two straight hours is akin to Chinese water torture to me.  PAINFUL.

Earplugs didn’t even help.

I cried uncle and finally called the advice nurse Saturday night.  I was at a loss.  No great plan, no big picture, I was stuck.  I was called this morning and BC was scheduled an appointment with his pediatrician for 1:30 today.

I had a plan.  Relief was on the way.

At 1:30 I packed up my tired daughter and my hooky-playing son and headed off to see my lifeline, the doctor.  His doctor.  A woman, who I hoped, would realize that I’m a mom who doesn’t overreact or freak out over small issues.  That my concern was HUGE and WORTH her time.

1:30, I show up, exhausted and seeking help only to find out that I have an appointment scheduled with ANOTHER doctor, one with a reputation for a BAD bedside manner.

How could this happen? I exclaimed, I specifically said MY doctor.  My eyes welled up with tears.

No relief today. I left empty handed, with an appointment at the end of the week.  It was time to prepare myself for anther 2 hour kicking, screaming, scratching all out hysterical meltdown.

No relief.

After a good cry and a shower, I decided to pull up my boot straps and try again.

I formulated a temporary plan and did something different.  Instead of telling BC that I would lay with him for 5 minutes (part of our old routine), I decided to let him dictate the amount of time I’d lay with him.

I gave away my control.  And if you know me, you know how monumental that act was.  I. am. in. control. damn. it.  But I gave it away.

And I’ll be damned if that little stinker didn’t send me out of his room after only TWO minutes, promising me he was ready to sleep calmly without torturing me for the next two hours.

Two Minutes.  I gave up control and the problem, tonight, was solved.

Days like today, I realize that I, in fact, don’t have all the answers.  If I just take the time to listen to my kids, maybe they’ve been SREAMING their needs to me the whole time.

Skill Learned, BC, skill learned.

Separation Anxiety