48 Hours

I've decided to call my new journey of using gentle tones and kind words 'Spoken Softly'. 

The first 24 hours of 'Spoken Softly' were fairly easy. 

Then, yesterday mid morning (ish) both kids decided that they were not going to eat any of the foods that they asked for. They started defying everything and anything I asked of them. They both picked yesterday to throw the worst temper tantrums I have ever seen from either of them. It was horrible. They took early naps, and I made a pot coffee during the middle of the afternoon (which doesn't usually happen anymore...I know you're thinking it does. 

But still, by around dinner time I was losing my cool. 

I wanted to cry. I didn't. 

I wanted to yell. I did. 

See what I mean about not being perfect?

Jayme burst into tears. I thought Isaiah was fine, but then I found him in tears in his bed. 

Fail. 

After saying I was sorry, and a fair amount of coaxing, they both came to sit with me. We read some stories, and cuddled for awhile. The rest of the evening was like walking on egg shells, but we made it through without me flipping out again. 

Today, I will pay close attention to triggers that push me past my limit and I will adjust accordingly. 

I feel like yesterday was a break through, even though it wasn't deemed a 100% success. 

I made it 36 hours without yelling or losing my cool. It's a start. 

Today I will do better. 

Here I Sit, Making A Vow

Here I sit on the kitchen floor, among the spilled cocoa puffs, holding a crying three year old because I have, once again, lost my cool. Not entirely over the spilled cocoa puffs, but it was the last straw.

Both my children have such tender hearts, one harsh word sends them into a cascade of tears...and it breaks my heart every time. Yet the harsh words still flow out of my mouth before I can cram them into nonexistence.

I hate the part of me that allows that to happen.

My children are so very forgiving. I suppose God made children that way. Still the same, it doesn't make it okay to speak to children, or anyone for that matter, in a harsh or 'ugly' tone.

So here I sit, making a vow to always speak to my children in a loving, gentle tone, unless their very lives depend upon me yelling or speaking loudly.

Now note, that this does NOT mean that my children will be undisciplined.

I'm a prideful person. It takes a lot for me to ask for help. Usually help is right there for me to grab at, but while struggling with other things that are currently in my life, I know I need it more than before.

As my readers, will you help me with this? 

Remind me. 

Let me have a break. 

Speak encouraging words to me. 

I'm a little hesitant to admit being harsh with my kids. It is another one of those things that isn't talked about because parents are afraid to let other people see that they aren't 'perfect' parents. Stupid, really. 

I really wish we lived in a society where 'village parenting' was more active. I'm thankful for the people around me that don't mind 'parenting' our kids when we're not around...or even when we are around. Sometimes, I get cranky with these people because it feels like they feel the need to step in because I'm not doing my job.

I know this isn't true. They're just trying to be helpful.

I haven't had any uninterrupted mommy time in over 2 weeks. It's due. Way past due. Not that I'm making excuses. Anger and frustration should never be taken out on others, although that is what almost always happens in our society. 

If we lived in little villages where moms were around each other near constantly with their children while their husbands were at work, the stress levels in homes would be so much lower. I'm pretty sure it would be anyway. 

Back to my point; I intend to have a relationship with my children where they don't feel criticized. Where they feel loved regardless of mistakes, messes or otherwise. And I am certain that the best way to do this is to show them the respect of kind words, even during discipline and correction.

Children learn best through example, right?

The Spit-Up Chronicles

I fed the babe, this morning, after getting ready for my day because she slept in a bit. A regular occurrence, but still lovely. After eating like she thought she was dying of starvation, she puked all over me. And not just a little bit. It was all over my shoulder, my arm, and filled my lap. Also, a regular occurrence...but it usually happens before I'm all dressed and ready for my day, so I don't mind changing, but as I mentioned previously, I was already dressed.

So I wiped up what I could, and then found myself spraying pet odor destroyer on my now sour smelling pretty blue shirt and capri yoga pants, the perfect staying at home summer outfit, because I didn't want to change. It did help some...but it still smells kinda icky. I guess I'll just spray more on.

Then after I got that ordeal cleaned up, I set the babe on my hip facing out...she hurled some more as I turned around. I heard it hit the floor, but I still haven't found it. It just disappeared. I'm sure I'll find it somewhere after it's already dried and crunchy.

On a more regular basis than I'm comfortable with discussing, when the babe burps, the dogs come running because they KNOW that it will take me a couple seconds to reach the spit up that inevitably lands on the floor...so they get the clean up privileges. Nasty, I know. I just gagged writing about it.

Then you have the spit up that seeps into the chubby baby's neck rolls, and the only reason you find it (hours later) is because it smells so horrific.

How can a baby so adorable smell so terrible?

So gross. The worst is knowing your baby threw up, a lot, and not being able to find it...then finding it later, when you're out and about, of course, stuck to the back of your shirt. Why? No really...WHY???

I'm thoroughly convinced that babies are cute and all that because if they weren't, human population would pretty much just die off.

Babies are gross pooping, puking, peeing messes. But they're so freaking cute nobody cares too much. Well that's a lie. Some people care a whole lot...but not me.

I'm almost embarrassed to say that I live for this. The cute, puking, adorable, pooping, peeing, heart melting mess of babies. Almost embarrassed, but not quite.

Messes are Opportunities...

Messes are opportunities for creative expression, for delight and discovery, and for pleasure and celebration. Messes are real. They are how we live. And they can be beautiful.

- Amy George Rush -

This quote fits motherhood so very well. Most days, I walk around in a trance wondering how my house got so messy. Or how the floor is so freaking dirty even though I mopped it 6 minutes ago. Or why there is SO much laundry to fold. 

Then I see how dirty the door handle on the fridge is, and that my child has cut her own hair...and barbies hair, too. I discover water all over the bathroom floor because the boy was filling up water balloons. I look around and see the toys, the dirty cereal bowls, a spit up stain on the floor, coffee spilled in the kitchen, coloring pages all over the kitchen table. 

There is a shark in the kitchen. Barbie is in the toy oven. There's a penguin in the couch cushions. I found a toy car in my coffee. There is marker all over the toddler. Someone sprayed the new TV with a quirt bottle and ruined it.

So on and so forth.

I remember the very first time my Daddy came to see our house when we first moved in, right before Isaiah was born. There was stuff everywhere. It was a disaster. The bed wasn't made, the dishes were not done, there was laundry everywhere, and I needed to vacuum. I apologized for the mess and he says "It's not messy...it's just lived in."

Yes...very very very lived in. 

Without these tiny humans, these beautiful children of mine...none of this would be possible. 

The humor (because if you don't laugh, you will indeed cry) that surrounds my every day life is so overwhelming. So I smile (most of the time...sometimes I cry instead) and ask myself questions like "Why is barbie in the oven...bald? It's like toy story all over again." There are no answers except that these tiny humans are learning to be people. They are growing and changing every day. So very quickly that it takes my breath away if I think about it too much. 

And that, my dear friends, the growing up of children, is so very messy. And therefore; one of the most beautiful happenings of all. 

Now, lets see if I can remember this while scrubbing the poop stains out of the carpet...