Tag: toddlerhood

Cranky-man Syndrome

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Sometime last year, J gave up napping. It happens once kids turn two. They decide that napping is for the birds and stop doing it. The fools! As any parent knows, this often leads to late-afternoon crankiness. Unfortunately for me, J’s late-afternoon crankiness typically manifests in the middle of dinner and lasts until he falls asleep.

He has a fantastic ability to flip the switch on this crankiness too. Of the many things my boys can do, this one might be the most impressive. It starts with refusing to finish or even eat his dinner. We struggle to get a few bites in, then comes tubby time. He’s ok until it’s time to get cleaned up and out. That’s when the tears and the screaming starts. He becomes damn near inconsolable during clean-up, drying off, and getting dressed. If he’s feeling particularly cranky, it goes through teeth brushing as we settle down to sleep. There may be a few pockets of calm here or there, but it’s mostly loud and grating on the nerves.

As he gets older, the cranky-man tantrums are fewer and farther between — THANK GOD — but when they flair up, all I can do is take a deep breath and hang on for the bumpy ride until he falls asleep.

At the end of a long day, because it’s always a long day when this happens, I find myself praying for the patience of Job or a tequila IV, whichever is easiest. It’s days like this when I want to say, “Yea, f*ing right!” to anyone who tells me I will miss these days. Sure, I’ll miss the cuddles and the funny little things he comes up with, but I will be happy when tantrums aren’t the go-to method for communicating. I also know the day will come when waking him up before noon will bring its own frustrations. But for now, I’ll breathe my way through tantrums until I have to hold my nose to wake him up.

Just Call Me Stuck-in-a-Rut Mama!

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Originally, this post started as me venting about how stuck in a loop I’ve been feeling. How much some days I want to let the kids take control. Nothing will shake you out of a routine like a winter in New England.

C came into our room around 1 AM — not really that abnormal — and couldn’t/wouldn’t go back to sleep — also not that abnormal — until I gave him some melatonin. While he got back to sleep, I was fully awake, playing Solitaire on my phone when A’s alarm went off at 4:30.

As I lay there lamenting my lack of sleep, A came rushing back to our bedroom, letting me know it had snowed overnight — it was raining when we went to bed — and he wasn’t going to have time to shovel our “only annoying that it’s big when it snows” driveway, so I’d have to do it to clear it for the school bus! Yay.😑

Somewhere in the middle of clearing the left entrance — we have a U-shaped driveway — the call came in that school was cancelled for the day. Why? I’m not really sure. They’d already cleared the street, and there was only about two inches in the driveway.

So my loop was interrupted by the weather and school cancellations. While the one day interruption was “pleasant,” it won’t fix the stuck way I’ve been feeling as of late.

My loop currently looks something like this: wake up. Work out. Get C dressed. Make C breakfast. Make and pack lunch and snack for C. Find something for J to eat because he doesn’t like eggs. Shower. Brush C’s teeth. Get him on the school bus. Spend the day entertaining J/cleaning/attempting to work on side projects. Rinse, lather, repeat.

I also find myself having the same conversation with the boys every day — “Stop fighting!”, “Pick up your toys!”, “Go to the potty!” It’s a miracle I still know other words in the English language.

There are some days when I’m so sick of the routine that I want to just let the boys go wild(er than usual) and let the chips fall where they may.

Of course, I can’t do that. I’ve been working on potty training J this week and have to make sure he doesn’t pee behind the couch…again. The boys also have a tendency to get into wrestling matches, usually at C’s instigation, and I have to make sure they don’t kill each other. So what’s a burnt out, stuck-in-a-rut mama to do?

Keep calm, take a breath, and soldier on. Also, hide in the pantry and eat snack pack Pringles…and pour a glass of wine while making dinner.

But seriously, I think I need to find something to balance out the everyday mundanity. Committing to my #65in365 goal is helping to keep me a little bit sane. I get most of my reading done when J insists that I can’t work, and I must watch Cocomelon/Little Angels/Blippi/Spidey and his Amazing Friends with him. Outside of that, though, what’s a stuck-in-a-rut mama to do?

I know that these things I’m complaining about are all part of motherhood, but isn’t that all the more reason to find a way to achieve the “just treading water” feeling of only communicating with toddlers all day? What’s your thing to help combat stay-at-home mom burnout?

Loud is Trouble; Quiet is Trouble

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What is it with kids and water? Something so simple can provide hours of entertainment…and this BEFORE they discover 20-foot high water slides.

Last night as I was working on my laptop and my husband was sitting in the office with me on his phone, we heard the water running. Then it stopped. Then little feet ran down the hallway. Then back. Then water. Then back. I think this happened about five times before hubby said, “What are they doing?” I replied, “I don’t know. I’m working. Why don’t you go check.”

Next thing I know, he’s back at the office door saying, “You’re the one who wanted them to have the toy kitchen; you get to clean this one up.” I rolled my eyes and went to the playroom. Our little cherubs took it upon themselves to fill the sink in their play kitchen with water. It took about fifteen minutes, a Tupperware container, and a turkey baster to get the mess sorted.

Then this evening, just to keep things spicy…J grabbed a large bottle of Italian seasoning and spread it ALL OVER the house. I must have left it on the lower counter, and he grabbed it while my back was turned. I didn’t realize he’d done it until I walked down the hall to collect C for dinner, and I couldn’t escape the scent of oregano. I tossed the toy room looking for the bottle. Then I notice piles going down the hallway and into the living room. J was hiding behind the couch with the empty bottle and a container of watermelon. Not really sure what kind of scenario required him to empty a completely full 6.25 oz bottle of seasoning.

I spent all tubby time vacuuming the playroom, the hallway, and the living room. You might or might not be surprised to hear that most of the bottle ended up between the center cushions of our couch that cover the pull-out.

Sometimes I wonder if they choose when to be ninjas and when to channel to elephant march from The Jungle Book. Yesterday, we heard the running water, the footsteps, and the giggles. This evening I heard NOTHING. I wasn’t playing a podcast or music as I often do most evenings. I was just focused on not burning the house down.🤷‍♀️

I’ve learned my lesson on vigilance. I must always be on at all times. Even when I’m trying to complete a simple task such as dinner.

Good God, no wonder I’m so tired all the time!

Well…Those Resolutions Were Short-Lived

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So…two of my resolutions are already out the window. I know it’s still January 1st, but I’ve already given up. Don’t judge me! Here’s what happened…

Resolution #1: Make healthier dietary choices.

After an early morning of cuddles and being climbed all over, because let’s be real, there is no sleeping in with toddlers. J declared that he was hungry and wanted pancakes. We all made our way to the kitchen. While hubby made eggs for C, I pulled out the pancake mix and a bowl. J wanted to help, so I scooped out a cup of mix, brought the bowl to his level, and handed him the measuring cup. He neatly dropped it in the bowl. We repeated the step with the water and mixing. Then I asked if he wanted chocolate chips in them, and of course, he said yes. He’s a toddler; there was no chance the answer was going to be no.

With the batter mixed, we heat and butter the pan. He adds the batter — when I can, I let the boys cook; I’m raising them to be self-sufficient — and we wait for the pancakes to reach the appropriate flipping doneness. Once they were ready, he had two yummy chocolate chip pancakes. There was enough better for two more pancakes…and there went my first resolution.

I know what you might be thinking, “Two chocolate chip pancakes to celebrate the start of the new year isn’t so bad” or “You still had better left, you were trying no to be wasteful.” Reader, you would be right on both accounts. And it would have been fine had I stopped there. After breakfast, hubby ran to Home Depot to grab hooks we need for a basement organization project. I put The Grinch on for the kids, because they are still feeling the Christmas spirit — C asked to see Santa today — and went to my bedroom to fold laundry and watch The Woman King. Clearly, I’m done with Christmas. I got about two minutes in before the kids came running in for help with turning on the giant piano mat my youngest brother got them for Christmas. Fun fact, FAO Schwarz makes toys; I thought it was a dead brand. The more you know.🤷🏽‍♀️

The interruptions kept coming, and I kept pausing the movie. Then J pooped, and we got into a fight while I tried to clean his bum because he REFUSED to stay still. By the time we finished, I needed chocolate. He chased me down the hall crying as I went to toss the diaper and go down to the basement to pull chicken from the freezer. I closed the door behind me so he couldn’t follow. It may sound like I was overreacting to my kid wanting me, but this is also the kid that woke me up and tried to drag me out of bed at 6 AM to turn on Spidey and his Amazing Friends in the playroom.

Hubby came back as I went downstairs, so he picked up a crying J and gave him a hug. On my way back to my bedroom to restart my movie — which I found out hubby turned off in favor of the Patriots game — I grabbed two Lindt milk chocolate balls only for C to catch me in the act of eating the first one and subsequently start cry when I pop the second one in my mouth. I know, I’m an asshole.

J soon realized that I had chocolate, slid out of his father’s lap and declare that he wanted chocolate too. I told the boys if they gave each other a hug — since I’d managed to upset them both AND I’m trying to teach them to lean on each other during the tough time — they’d each get a chocolate. They did. They both got a chocolate ball, I gave one to hubby and ate two more myself. SEE resolution is all shot to hell!

Resolution #2: Yell less; give “gentle parenting” a fighting chance.

My boys are not built for gentle parenting. I’m not built for gentle parenting. That’s not true. I’m not built for sustained gentle parenting.

J — today really wasn’t a good day for he and I — declared he wanted a cookie while we were watching the Pats game — I wasn’t super upset that my movie had been turned off; I love the Pats, they’ve just broken my heart a lot this season. I said, we don’t have any cookies. A few minutes later my very capable 2.5 year old came back with a Tupperware container of leftover cookies from holiday baking we’d done that I’d completely forgotten about. I had a cookie, C grabbed a cookie, J took two cookies.

Halftime hits and hubby heads to the basement to organization project started. I’m lying in the middle of our bed and J is behind me. I get up to head to the bathroom only to turn around and see that J has DECIMATED a gingerbread cookie on our bed. He ground it into a FINE dust of gingerbready goodness. I let out a frustrated scream, kicked him off the bed, and grabbed the dustbuster. I also had to tell him to take off his pants because they were covered with gingerbread dust.

This was not a gentle parenting moment. There were no calm words. There was only “why did you just do that?”, “get off the bed and take of your pants!”, “don’t come back up here!” yelling moments. I commend parents who are fully committed to gentle parenting and make it work for them. I have toddlers who talk back and give me evil laughs when they do something wrong.

I’m starting to think that they find my emotional outbursts funny, though. This morning C kept playing with the Santa salt and pepper shakers that I haven’t decommissioned yet. I told him sternly but calmly — before I gave up on gentle parenting — to put them back and leave them alone. He said, “Are you mad?” I replied, “No, but I would like you to listen when I tell you to do something.” He asked me if I was mad twice more, then I gave in and made an angry face, which got an uproarious chuckle from him.

I give up. I’m just going to sit in a corner and eat chocolate for the rest of the year. Catch y’all in 2024 when I start from scratch again if diabetes doesn’t set in and remove me from this mortal coil!

Happy New Year!!🎊 May you have better luck with your resolutions than I did.😳

No Membership Required

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If you weren’t some kind of crazy fitness guru pre-pregnancy, chances are, even if you really, really want to, getting back in shape is low on the priority list next to mastering breastfeeding, sleep training, and remembering to feed yourself. While we all long for our pre-baby body, most accept that getting back there might not necessarily be in the immediate future. And that’s ok. We just love loving on our babies. I know I do, anyway.

However, once said baby starts moving, motherhood becomes a more active endeavor. At this point, my son is a full-on runner. Most mornings, I leave daycare sweating because he loves running out of his classroom and exploring as I try to put away his bags. He thinks it’s funny as my heart stares racing chasing him back and forth down the halls.

Chasing after my son is fun and daunting all at the same time. He gets into absolutely everything, and, if we aren’t quick enough, he’ll dump half his toys in the trash, his the other half in the potty, and pull all his books off the shelf. It’s like living with the Tasmanian Devil. With all the energy he brings, I feel like I need to dig deep to find the energy to keep up. It’s like when I used to go to the gym and had a trainer who’d make me do one more squat even though my legs were burning and I felt like I wanted to throw up.

Even though I don’t go to the gym anymore — between work, and, honestly, traffic, who has the time — he keeps me active. I’m not squatting 120 pounds anymore, but carrying around a twenty-five-pound squirmy toddler is just about the same thing