Tag: the tough stuff

i feel like curling up into a ball

A child this young should not have the power to make me feel so frustrated, exasperated and insecure as a parent. But he does.

We’ve been having bedtime issues with Elliot over the past month or so. There are ups and downs, but the downs are really bad. Like me getting mad enough at his screaming to scream back in his face. Like me being in tears several times now when I’m finally done putting him to bed.

I have tried posting about it a couple of times in the hopes that I’d be able to see things more clearly and figure out a solution, but I haven’t actually completed a post yet because there seems to be so many things I want to say. As well, publishing a post opens the door for advice…and I’m not sure I want to hear it. But as with the conversations I’ve already had about this, I can ignore the advice I don’t like, and act on the advice I like.

The basic issue is I try to leave the room and he starts crying, and I find it very hard to leave him crying, so I don’t. I usually leave for a few minutes, come back and see what he wants, and eventually he is happy. I rarely have to go in more than twice, but it’s stressful as hell. Not every night is like this — some are still as smooth as they used to be. But a growing number are very bumpy.

The stress comes from the conflict I’m feeling. I know he’s pushing the boundaries, seeing where I’ll push back. I know that, yet I let him push. I don’t let him push in other areas of our life, so why here? Why can’t I just put my foot down, leave the room and not come back? It’s because hearing him call out to me, crying, is excruciating. I don’t want him to ever think that I won’t come if he needs me. But that’s just it…he doesn’t really need me.

Tonight I got pissed off enough to just leave him (after a bedtime routine that was difficult from start to finish — usually the pajamas, books and brushing teeth part of it is no problem, but not tonight). Greg actually suggested I go back to the door (not go in) and see what he wanted. If I’d been on my own I probably would have just left him. But I did go back, and when I opened his door he was happy as a clam. He wanted to “see Amy”. Translation: he wanted me to come back. And I did. Again. Greg clarified afterward that he didn’t mean for me to open the door. He just wanted me to stand behind it and tell Elliot it was time to sleep.

And maybe that’s the happy medium here. Yes go back, to appease the stress of leaving him, but don’t open the door. I guess I’m not convinced that will be any easier. But it’s probably worth a shot.

It’s all a bit of a shocker…for two years we’ve had the best bedtimes. Something I’ve been proud of, and something Greg and I have benefited from, as we’ve had some pretty relaxing evenings after bedtime. Now it’s draining. I often get anxious before I put him to bed, which I’m sure he picks up on. And I analyze. Continuously. Further drain.

I’ve tried talking to Elliot about this (of course at a much simpler level, and not in the heat of the moment) and he seems to understand at least a small part of things. Today out of the blue on the way home from daycare he said “there be no crying at bedtime”. Of course saying and doing are two different things. And he is only two.

I know there are going to be some rocky times, but I want to feel like most of the time we’re on solid ground. And right now I don’t feel that way. Right now I feel like things could get worse before they get better.

Not the greatest feeling.

and here’s part two

We arrived home after our aborted beach outing right before Elliot’s nap time. This is a bit risky, but usually we can make it through without too many tears. Not so today.

He was great for his diaper change, but when I said it was time to read books, the trouble started. He didn’t want to stop playing with his cars. I’m not sure what order it all happened in, and I don’t really want to rehash it all anyway, but there was screaming, crying, spitting, throwing, kicking, stomping and hitting (my glasses were thrown from my face with the force of the hit).

My struggle is keeping to my guns. Well, not so much keeping to my guns, but how to proceed once I’ve decided on the consequence. After he’d screamed and spat multiple times, I decided there would be no books. Just songs. I don’t feel I can skip the songs because he needs some sort of calming period before bed. I gave him plenty of warnings about no books, mostly because I think he’s still young, and I don’t want to be too rough on him. Plus he was so exhausted. But with the exhaustion, I wonder how much of this is actually sinking in, so I wonder if it’s worth it to stay the course. It would have been an easier process if I’d relented and allowed books once he’d finally calmed down. But I don’t want him to think that his behaviour is acceptable.

My other struggle is to contain my own anger, or at least react appropriately so he can learn how to do the same. After he hit me, I was MAD. And when he threw a car, I just got madder. I think I probably yelled. I know I grabbed him not-so-gently and sat him down.

I wanted to just put him in his crib until he calmed down, but when I did that, he started trying to frantically climb out. So I was worried about him hurting himself.

Then when my anger subsided I just wanted to hold him until he calmed down, but he was still too frustrated and he just kicked.

I don’t know what finally calmed him down. I did end up putting him in his crib again, and he must have just exhausted himself, because he didn’t try to climb out. He just looked at me forlornly. After a few minutes I asked if he wanted to sing some songs with me, and he said yes.

So in the end we had a good cuddle, a few songs, I told him I loved him and we parted ways at peace, him happily lying in his crib. Which is the end result I wanted, I just would like to find a less stressful way of getting to that result. Coming home earlier would have been smarter, but lots of times it works out fine, so it’s unpredictable.

Perhaps more play time before going to bed would be good, regardless of what time it is. Because this whole process took over half and hour anyway — I may as well have let him play for 15 minutes and then start the naptime routine. He’d end up being in bed about the same time. I will try that next time.

bad day: part one

So it’s a lot of work getting out of the house with two kids. It’s even more work when you’re going to the beach. There’s the sun screen, the hats, the beach blanket, the beach toys…just generally more stuff. Then there’s the shade issue when you have an under six-month-old who can’t where sunscreen. But Elliot loves the beach, so to the beach we went.

We decided on Esquimalt Lagoon, mostly because I’ve never been there. We got out of the house by 9:30, amazingly, and Amy fell asleep in the carseat on the way there (after screaming bloody murder while I got ready). That was fine, though, as I was hoping she’d just stay asleep in the seat while Elliot played.

We get there, get all the crap beach stuff out of the car, get everything set up, and Amy wakes up crying. And it’s WINDY. Annoyingly windy. Elliot doesn’t want to wear his hat. Amy’s screaming. Life’s great.

Jen arrives with her two charges, and Carys has fallen asleep on the way. I need to feed Amy, so I offer to sit in Jen’s car, feed Amy, and let Carys sleep a bit longer.

I feed Amy, and the boys play while Jen looks on. Things are looking up. Amy seems happier. I get out of the car, go back to the beach, put Amy into her carseat so she can get some shade, and she starts crying again. I am assuming she’s tired, but in hindsight I actually think it was the wind.

Elliot takes his hat off. I tell him he has to put it on, or we are going to go. That will surely work, as Elliot LOVES the beach. “Go home, Mum.” Oh dear. Did I mention how much work it was to get there? “No wear hat, go home.” Okay, so maybe we’ll try the food tactic. It works for all of three minutes. Amy continues to cry.

I look at Jen. She looks at me. Should we go? We make the decision to go back to her place. Complicating the decision is a third friend is supposed to join us…how do we let her know? Neither of us has a phone. Thankfully she showed up before we left, so that solved that issue.

We pack all the stuff back into the car, and I use the term “pack” lightly here. Everything’s covered in sand after our 20 minute stay at the beach.

Both kids are back in the car. Both are not crying. Things are again looking up.

We headed back to Jen’s and had quite a nice visit and play there. Part two of the bad day didn’t start until we got home. Part two will be posted later, after I’ve had a drink. It’s not too early for alcohol, is it?