Sitting this dance class out

So I learned a very important lesson on Monday afternoon:  Be careful what you threaten with. What you think may be the magical statement to correct obnoxious behavior, could come back and bite you in the butt big-time! 

Sam woke up ready for her day at 4:00am on Monday morning.  Oh. My. Gawd.  Somebody shoot me now, please.  Hadn't we worked through our sleep issues and turned the corner back to getting a full night of sleep?  I guess not. 

Anyway, by 5:00pm, when it was time for Ian's soccer practice, Sam was in rare form as you can imagine.  It doesn't take a genius to know that a toddler up since 4:00am and a mommy not thinking clearly doesn't add up to a whole lot of good.  I brought a blanket, new Hello Kitty coloring book, and the big plastic bin of crayons to the field where Ian practices soccer.  It was a gorgeous afternoon and I was hoping that the hour would smoothly move along to 6:00pm without too much turmoil.  At one point, Sam was quietly laying on the blanket and coloring nicely in her book.  Then she decided to turn the entire container of crayons (think roughly 200 or so) over and dump them on the blanket.  So far, this is ok, as the crayons will be easy to pick up in big handfuls and easily put back in the container.  It's when Sam started throwing each crayon individually as far as she could throw it in the grassy (tall blades of grass at that) field, that the real trouble started.  She threw these crayons with gusto and they flew in every direction possible and gained quite a bit of distance from where we were sitting.   Soooo not fun.  Not fun at all.

Here's me trying to be the "I'm-not-going-to-put-up-with-this-behavior" Mommy and tell Sam that she needs to pick up the crayons now.  She refuses.  I tell her I am not going to pick them up and they will stay here in this field forever.  Let me remind you, there are like 200 crayons all over the place!  We go back and forth like this for a few minutes and then I pull out the big guns -- "Not only are you not going to get these crayons back, but you aren't going to dance class tomorrow either."   I so can't believe I went there.  What in the world was I thinking?!?!?! 

I know how much Sam LOVES her dance class.  Each morning she asks if she is having dance class that day and she runs through all the various ballet related items she'll need to wear (ballet shoes, tights, leotard, skirt).  I really thought that by saying she wouldn't be going to dance class until the crayons were picked up was going to do the trick.  Unfortunately it did not.  And now, I need to live with the consequences too.  I can't go back on my word, as Sam will know she has won and never take anything I say serious again.  The thing is, I enjoy her being in this dance class as much as she enjoys being in it.  But I need to stand my ground and hold true to my word.  I could kick myself for having these words come out of my mouth.

Once Stefanie and I realized that Sam was not going to pick up the crayons, Stefanie quickly offered to pick them up and get them back in the container.  It wasn't right to leave them littered all over the field.  Especially when they go to mow the lawn next.  On the sly, I helped her gather them (without Sam noticing) and give the container to Stefanie to take back home.   As we were walking back to the car, I reiterated that she no longer has her crayons and will also not being going to dance class the next day.  Sam stopped walking, hung her head down low and decided she would begin pouting big-time.  She didn't walk one step further, sat on the sidewalk and kept her head down the whole time.  Once she realized I was still walking to the car, she'd run up, get in front of us, then sit back down on the sidewalk and continue pouting.  This went on about 3 more times until the car was finally reached.  What a drama queen!

The whole ride home, Sam cried for her crayons and for going to dance class.  I can't believe I went there and have learned my lesson not to go there again.  Next time I need to pick something that doesn't hurt me as much when I open my big mouth.

It's just so funny how we can go from an amazing experience of getting our nails done, to the extreme opposite behavior the next day when she is being defiant.  I know this is because of lack of sleep.  I am so ready for her to turn into the typical teenager who doesn't want to get out of bed.  I am sure I will find something to complain about then, but it won't be for lack of sleeping.

Bad Mother of the Year Award, Reason #240

Lest anyone think that only Ian is the sole focus of my bad parenting skills, here is a great example of how Sam became the target on Wednesday of this week.

My friend Susanne and I decided to walk Burke Lake Park during the one hour and 15 minutes I have free in between dropping Ian off at kindergarten and picking Sam up from preschool.  Foolishly we thought we could do the 5 mile trail around the lake within the allotted time.  Even with walking a very brisk pace, sometimes even doing a slow run to get back to the car sooner, it still took us 1 hr, 45 minutes.  Oh my!  I was 25 minutes late picking up Sam.  And it wasn't even like I was stuck in traffic or at a drs appointment longer than expected.  Nooooo, I was late because I was out for a walk.  How horrible is that!?!?!

Wait it gets better!  About 15 minutes before the pick-up time, Susanne and I realized just how far we were from making a complete loop and I quickly called my fabulous friend Amy to see if she could come to my rescue.  I knew she had to be on her way to pick up her son, Jacob and I was hoping she could grab Sam at the same time too.  Amy would be able to take the kids to the gross motor skills room and hang out there until I reached the preschool.  All went well with the call for help and I felt a big sigh of relief knowing Sam was in good hands. 

I chatted with Amy and watched the kids play for a little while once I got there.  Sam was super excited to show me the seeds they planted in class and lifted the potted container up high for me to see.  Me, being clumsy and a little distracted, waved my arm in conversation and the next thing you know, Sam is wearing the entire container of the potting soil and seeds.  Oh my!  It literally started on her head, went down her shirt, in her pants and landed on/in her shoes.  She was more than a little surprised at what happened and stood there stunned wearing the soil.  I think I made her speechless, which take it from me, is pretty hard to do.

OH MY GAWD!  Could I feel like a worse mother?  First I am 25 minutes late picking my little girl and then I pretty much dump an entire container of potting soil directly on her. 

I was able to salvage picking up a lot of the soil and putting it back in the container.  We did bring it home and put it in a prominent place so that it would start to grow.  I think I need to throw in some new seeds as I am not sure I managed to scrape them back in too.

What a day!  Susanne and I will one day look back and laugh at what we thought we could do in an hour's time, and who knows, we may even decide to walk Burke Lake Park again during the school day.  It will just have to wait until next year when we have a longer amount of time to do it in and we aren't wading through ankle deep mud or balancing walking across fallen trees to get to a dry area.  It was certainly an adventure. 

Bad Mother of the Year Award, Reason #20

A few months ago Ian started complaining that his feet hurt.  Naturally I thought it was his shoes and we promptly went to Stride Rite to get his feet measured.  Nope, his foot was the same size and his current pair of sneakers he had on didn't need to be upgraded. The visit of course, did result in Sam getting a new pair of sneakers, as we found out then and there that her foot had grown a size larger.  Since then, we have gone back to Stride Rite again, and Ian's foot finally grew.  Of course, Sam got another new pair of shoes during this visit too.

For several weeks Ian still continues to complain that his feet hurt.  At this point I am ready to make an appointment with a podiatrist to see what is wrong.  It was one morning as we are getting ready to leave the house that I notice the sock Ian is trying to get his foot into.  Finally the light bulb went off at the top of my head and I had a "Hallelujah!!" moment on what was going on.  I am always so careful to make sure Ian's clothes fit, his shoes fit, his underwear fits, his pajamas fit, his bathing suits fit, but I totally forgot about his socks fitting.  I can't even remember the last time I bought Ian the socks he was wearing, nor can I remember what age he was.  It has to have been years!! The poor guy was wearing socks about 3 sizes too small.  When I buy something (like underwear, socks, etc) I get it in bulk.  We will always easily have at least two dozen pairs to rotate through.  There is no risk of wearing them down and if we lose a pair or two, so be it.  Running out is never an issue.  I guess it never occurred to me that Ian's feet were getting much bigger than his socks.

See for yourself. 



Wow!  What a size difference.  No wonder Ian's feet hurt.

At least I am giving Ian plenty of material for therapy later. 

Biting my tongue

I find parenting to be a tough balance of wanting to do the right thing; making the most healthy, safest, and independence building choices for your children and then on the other the hand, taking the easy way out and giving in to avoid the same "discussion" over and over again.

Ian has a running list of everything his friends can do that he is not allowed to yet.  For example, Greg has the rated "T" ("T" for teens) Star Wars Wii game and we will only allow Ian to play the rated "E" version ("E" for everyone).  His friend Jonathan has been in a backless booster seat since he was four.  Jeff and I, on the other hand had kept Ian in a 5 point harness-type car seat until 2 weeks ago.  Every time we got in the car, Ian would give me a rundown of all the kids who were allowed to sit in a booster seat and exactly what the date was that they made the switch.  And each time, I'd counter with, "But Ian, I want you to be the safest possible and the car seat you are in will be perfect for you for the next 3 or 4 years."  I even joked that Ian would be using this monster of a car seat when it was time to learn to drive.  And maybe even throw in wearing a helmet for good measure.  :)

Every time Ian and I have these discussions about what we feel is in his best interest, I come so close to saying to Ian, "We must love you more than so & so's parents."  Of course, I am kidding about this and  I know it is a mean thing to say, so I bite my tongue and make sure I stay silent.  I know Ian wouldn't see my subtle dark humor in this statement or pick-up on the sarcasm with which I say it.  But it kills me that this 5 year old boy is playing a video game meant for teenagers.  I am sure there are plenty of other parents questioning the amount of time Ian is allowed to play wii, watch tv or play gaming websites on the computer. I guess I do a pretty good job of justifying this to myself that it becomes ok.  I can fully see the irony in this pot calling the kettle black.

Eventually Ian is going to be old enough to play all versions of Wii games, and eventually he'll outgrow his booster seat completely and not need anything but a seat belt.  But until then I wished we lived in a world where everyone had the same values as me.  It would make everything so much easier.  And it would be wonderful to live in a world where I could say to Ian, "I guess we just love you more" without fear of Ian going back to his friend and making him feel bad by repeating what I said.