Consistency

Growing up, I remember hearing parents, moms especially, say that they were just tired.  It had been a long day for them and all they did was listen to their children whine or break up arguments or deal out consequences.  I honestly remember thinking that didn't sound that bad.  I mean, how could whining or disciplining so much turn your day into a bad day.

Now that I'm a mom, I understand.  That's one of those things that you'll never know until you experience it.  And now I know why it's so tiring.  It goes back to consistency.  It's hard and tiring to be consistent.  It's hard and tiring to follow through with what you said would happen.  It's hard and tiring to always give and not hear a "thank you" very often.  It's hard and tiring when you are trying to lay aside yourself and focus on someone else when you're exhausted from never sitting down all day.  It's hard and tiring when you are constantly breaking up arguments with toys, etc.  Despite knowing how important it is for me to be consistent in my disciplining, it's hard.  There are days when Daddy T walks in the house and I say "they're all yours.  I can't deal with it anymore."  I honestly feel like my head has taken so much stimulation in that it can't take in anything else. 

I can tell the days where I'm consistent and the days I'm not because B's behavior is so much better when I'm hard on him and keep him in line from the get go.  We always have fun on those days because he knows that he can test me but won't get away with it.  He also knows that by the end of the day, I'm exhausted and he tests me more then because he does know he can get away with more at that point.  I've been working hard at focusing more on this issue the past week and for the most part, we've had a great week.  There's been peace at the house because he knows that I only give my instructions once and I know he can obey the first time.  He's smart and doesn't need me to remind him.  He proved my point on Tuesday when I told him that we needed to clean his room.  I was cleaning the living room and I called back to him to make sure he was obeying.  He told me he wasn't cleaning, so I went back there to discipline him.  However, as soon as I walked in I noticed the clean floor.  He had obeyed and put EVERYTHING where it should be.  I didn't have to discipline him, although we did have a talk about lying.  That's the other issue that's come up lately.  (He doesn't understand the word, yet, so that makes it a little difficult.)

So for you moms like me that are tired and need a little encouragement, do know that consistency pays off.  At least that's what my dad says!  (As he looks at me and says, "I remember.  Been there done that."  Then he tries to tell me how I acted that way.  I never believe him about his examples.  I know I never acted that bad.....)

My Little Bandit

I'll recap my morning a few weeks ago.  It was awful.  And that's saying it nicely!  B was in one of his moods which automatically sent me into overdrive because we were in public.  Let's just say that his bad mood and public don't mix very well! 

I was headed to Kindermusik one morning and we stopped to pick up ONE thing.  I explained to him before we went in that I expected good behavior from him and for him to obey.  He repeated the rules back to me and I naively thought all was well.  We entered the store and I had him carry the ONE thing I needed so that something would be in his hands so he couldn't touch everything around him.  So far so good.  We get to the cash register and that's where this plan falls apart.  A nice lady (who is also a mother of a 2-year-old and a 5-year-old, but whose kids were not with her) let me in front of her to check out.  I thanked her for her consideration and willingness to send me on my way.  B nicely places the item on the counter but then looks down and sees this large display of candy.  I see his eyes light up and he grabs a few of each thing to place on the counter.  I tell him no and he says "but I neeeed this."  That's when I realize he's unwrapped the bubblegum.  Great.  Now I had to buy it, but at least it's the kind Daddy T likes.  I tell him to put it all back and not to touch anything. 

After checking out, I take his hand to make him follow me to the car.  I was about to place him in the car when I looked in his hand and saw a lollipop.  My little boy STOLE a lollipop!  I marched him back inside and told him to place it on the counter and to tell the lady that he was sorry.  He did it willingly and very quickly.  The lady at the counter was nice and said that was okay.  I apologized, too, since I didn't see it when we walked out.  By the way, what kind of person designed the candy to go right in front at only a child's level?!  I'm convinced they get great satisfaction at seeing a mother fight with their child EACH AND EVERY TIME they step foot in their store.  It was probably a man!

Anyway, I told the grandparents how my day was because I knew they'd laugh which would lessen my anger.  My mother told my father, who then confesses that he got in trouble with his mom for stealing when he was little.  He tore off potato spuds to plant potatoes.  Nanny made him go back in and hand it back to the produce man who wasn't quite for sure what to do with those spuds since they're only good for growing potatoes.  I'll blame this incident on Dad's side of the family!

B's enemy

B has his first and only enemy so far.  Any clue what it is? 

I'll give you a hint.

Here's a picture:

That's correct.  B's enemy is a garbage truck.  The next logical question you might ask is "why?"  Oh my!  Here's the story.

A few months ago, we decided that the paci had to go.  We told him that he could use it, but only when it was bed time and he was in his bed.  I informed him that if I saw it out of his room at any other time, I would take it away.  He never showed me his beloved paci!

One day, he had it out in the living room and I was feeling generous and thought I'd remind him of the rule.  I simply said, "B, go put the paci back in your bed or throw it in the trash."  This is where B's love of trash came in handy.  B said, "I throw in trash, Mommy."  I tried to explain to him that once he threw it in the trash, it would be gone and he'd never see it again.  He assured me that was okay and he was going to throw it in the trash. 

Well, to this day, EVERY (and I do mean EVERY) time we pass a garbage truck or a trashcan, he says, "I throw paci away" and points.  I always say, "yes, you did, and we're proud of you."  One day, he was in one of his moods and said "Bad trash man."  I asked him why he said that and he said "because he take my paci away."  I told him that he had thrown it in the trash and the trash man was just doing his job.  He didn't know that a paci was in there.  That reasoning fell on deaf ears as he kept saying "bad trash man.  No touch."  And so we still hear to this day those same words.

Since then, we have gotten rid of all of his pacis.  He will occasionally take Baby M's paci for a quick suck and then shove it back in her mouth.  However, he's done really well with it and hasn't asked for it back.  Well, except for when he found one that he had hidden.  I quickly took it from his hands because I wasn't about to restart that weaning process again!

I'll admit that it was hard at first to get rid of them because it was admitting that he wasn't a baby anymore and he was growing up.  It was also something that combined with his blanket "blue" would calm him down when he was throwing a fit or in one of his moods.  If he was getting wild, I could simply hand him the combo and he'd sit or lay down.  "Blue" still does the job, but not as fast as they both did combined.  That's okay.  I'm stepping out of denial that my baby boy isn't quite my baby anymore.  Not for sure how that happened....