All of you who know me, know that I am a worrier. I try not to be. It's not a trait I like about myself, but it's in my genes. I'm Cuban, after all, and Cubans worry about the weather about as much as they worry about world peace; maybe more.
That being said, I've had a bit of worry/anxiety built up the last few weeks. I moved across the country. Yes - again - let the jokes fly....Anyway, I moved across the country, I started a new job, I had Christmas shopping to do, I didn't have the right shoes.....the list can go on for miles. All of that melted away when on Saturday morning I went in to check on a sleeping Peyton and he wasn't in bed. No big deal, I went out to see if he was with Scott. Let me digress for a moment - we are staying in my sister's guest house. There are 2 rooms. 2 options of where he could be. Option 1 - bedroom, not there. Option 2 - other bedroom, not there. Option 3 was my sister's house, not there.
I'm not sure how many thoughts the human brain can process at once, but I don't know how many scenarios of what could have happend to him ran throught my mind. None of them were good. Kidnapping, drowning, wandered off into the street. 5 people started going in all directions looking for him. My sister started to call 911. I ran through her house, I checked the pool, I checked the driveway. Finally, I around the guesthouse to see if he was back there. As I was running, I see this little person staring out at me from behind a curtain. THERE HE WAS. I run back in the house yelling "I FOUND HIM, I FOUND HIM".
The whole ordeal lasted maybe 5 minutes. It was the scariest 5 minutes of my life, and my hands are shaking a little just re-living it. He had simply gotten out of bed and hid to scare his brother. He wasn't sure why everyone was yelling his name and I think he was just as scared as we were when I finally got to him.
This week, although still filled with my usual worry, I have thanked God countless times for everything I have and everything I take for granted. It's sad that it takes something like that to make me take a moment and be grateful. I'm still worried about my shoes and my Christmas gifts, but I know that at the root of it all, I have everything I need.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
What Kind of Parent Are You?
I always thought I could be a 'cool' parent. Never raise my voice, never spank - just tell kids what to do and they would listen....you know, cuz I'm their Mom. HA what a bunch of crap that was. I have no idea why it has taken me 3 1/2 years to figure that out, but here we are. I have come to the sad realization that I cannot be a cool mom.
It all started with this new school the boys are going to. It started out so well; there was no transition trauma, there was no crying...until there was. The new-ness wore off for the boys and a few weeks ago they decided they were going to start crying at drop off again. This went on for a week or so - I would give them extra kisses and that still didn't help. After said week, I get a call from the Owner of the school who in no uncertain terms told me that wasn't the image they wanted to portray of their school. Really? You don't want to screaming 3 year olds holding on to their mom's leg like they are being sent to the lion's den? Really? That's not what you want on your billboard? She also said, it's time for tough love and discipline. I was pretty angry at first, and then I just knew she was right.
Bitch Mom had to come out. I guess the nice word is the Disciplinary Mom. That afternoon when I picked them up, I didn't give them any 'fun' snacks (i.e. oreos and scooby snacks). I didn't make them starve, granola bars and crackers were available. Peyton screamed the entire 15 minute ride home that he wanted 'black cookies'. Once we got home, I revealed the other punishment - no TV. There was a lot of screaming that night and sadness. I explained to them how this was going to work. Cry at school - no snacks and no tv. They haven't cried at drop off yet.
There have been a couple of close calls - they did go to school dressed in flannel pj bottoms the other day, but THEY DIDN'T CRY. That may not be the image the school wants to portray either, but it's better than dragging them off of me to go to class. There was also the day where I threw the Oreos OUT THE WINDOW because Peyton wouldn't stop crying for some ridiculous thing. It made me feel better AND IT WORKED!!! He stopped crying, said he was sorry, and asked if he could have the Oreos after school.
This Bitch Mom stuff WORKS!...I mean, Disciplinary Mom.
It all started with this new school the boys are going to. It started out so well; there was no transition trauma, there was no crying...until there was. The new-ness wore off for the boys and a few weeks ago they decided they were going to start crying at drop off again. This went on for a week or so - I would give them extra kisses and that still didn't help. After said week, I get a call from the Owner of the school who in no uncertain terms told me that wasn't the image they wanted to portray of their school. Really? You don't want to screaming 3 year olds holding on to their mom's leg like they are being sent to the lion's den? Really? That's not what you want on your billboard? She also said, it's time for tough love and discipline. I was pretty angry at first, and then I just knew she was right.
Bitch Mom had to come out. I guess the nice word is the Disciplinary Mom. That afternoon when I picked them up, I didn't give them any 'fun' snacks (i.e. oreos and scooby snacks). I didn't make them starve, granola bars and crackers were available. Peyton screamed the entire 15 minute ride home that he wanted 'black cookies'. Once we got home, I revealed the other punishment - no TV. There was a lot of screaming that night and sadness. I explained to them how this was going to work. Cry at school - no snacks and no tv. They haven't cried at drop off yet.
There have been a couple of close calls - they did go to school dressed in flannel pj bottoms the other day, but THEY DIDN'T CRY. That may not be the image the school wants to portray either, but it's better than dragging them off of me to go to class. There was also the day where I threw the Oreos OUT THE WINDOW because Peyton wouldn't stop crying for some ridiculous thing. It made me feel better AND IT WORKED!!! He stopped crying, said he was sorry, and asked if he could have the Oreos after school.
This Bitch Mom stuff WORKS!...I mean, Disciplinary Mom.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
So that's how it's going to be
Today was the boys' first day at a new school. We were very apprehensive taking them in since they have cried every day since we started the last school. They kept telling us on the way in that we had to stay with them at school. We walk in and it was time to go outside (thank you Jesus). We said, "Ok bye, have fun" and they grabbed each other's hands and got in line and marched out the door to play. What??!!?
Fast forward to the end of the day. I am thinking I will get a story or two about what they did, what new friends they made, what new toys they played with. We get in the car and this is how it went:
Me: "How was it"
Grayson: "Can we watch a show?"
Me: "Sure..."
We get home and I try again:
Me: "So what did you do at school today"
Grayson: "We colored and painted" (Good we are getting somewhere)
Me: "Wow, that's great. Peyton, what did you do?"
Peyton "I don't want to tell you today; maybe tomorrow" (wtf?)
Me: "Ok, here's a popsicle"
We will see how tomorrow goes, but hopefully it goes so well that I get no stories and no crying.
Fast forward to the end of the day. I am thinking I will get a story or two about what they did, what new friends they made, what new toys they played with. We get in the car and this is how it went:
Me: "How was it"
Grayson: "Can we watch a show?"
Me: "Sure..."
We get home and I try again:
Me: "So what did you do at school today"
Grayson: "We colored and painted" (Good we are getting somewhere)
Me: "Wow, that's great. Peyton, what did you do?"
Peyton "I don't want to tell you today; maybe tomorrow" (wtf?)
Me: "Ok, here's a popsicle"
We will see how tomorrow goes, but hopefully it goes so well that I get no stories and no crying.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Controlled by 3 Year Olds
I am an adult, educated woman. I used to decide simple things like when I ate, showered, slept - etc - you get the picture. Lately it seems that my life is no longer my own. I knew this going into motherhood, but I don't think I knew the extent of loss of self prioritizing that would take place.
I was out of town last week for a break away from the routines of every day. Scott did great watching the boys as I'm sure they didn't make it easy. He has spared me most of the stories, I'm sure. Anyway, there is no greater vacation buzz kill than a 3 year old tantrum. I picked the boys up from school and the happiness to see me was still there. It lasted all of 5 minutes until we got to the grocery store and they didn't have a "car cart" - you know those carts that kids can sit in and drive. We waited because God forbid they just sit in the cart like we used to. This poor bag boy (I use the word 'boy' loosley as this guy was pushing 70) searched the parking lot for us. No car carts to be found. Meanwhile, Peyton is screaming.....in Publix......while people are walking in staring at me like I'm the worst mother on the face of the earth. After 20 minutes of waiting, I threw them both in the cart, and proceeded to get the groceries. Peyton is still screaming and I'm still getting looks. I made it all the way through the store and I have one more thing to get and the poor 70 year old shows up with a car cart. So what is a smart, educated woman to do -- simple thing would be to just hurry up and be done in the existing cart. But no, this smart, educated woman is controlled by 3 year olds, so I did the most illogical thing - I transferred all my groceries to the car cart and finished my shopping and paid. I'm sure I got 20 looks of disgust throughout my trip through the store. These people either have never had kids or they have amnesia.
I was out of town last week for a break away from the routines of every day. Scott did great watching the boys as I'm sure they didn't make it easy. He has spared me most of the stories, I'm sure. Anyway, there is no greater vacation buzz kill than a 3 year old tantrum. I picked the boys up from school and the happiness to see me was still there. It lasted all of 5 minutes until we got to the grocery store and they didn't have a "car cart" - you know those carts that kids can sit in and drive. We waited because God forbid they just sit in the cart like we used to. This poor bag boy (I use the word 'boy' loosley as this guy was pushing 70) searched the parking lot for us. No car carts to be found. Meanwhile, Peyton is screaming.....in Publix......while people are walking in staring at me like I'm the worst mother on the face of the earth. After 20 minutes of waiting, I threw them both in the cart, and proceeded to get the groceries. Peyton is still screaming and I'm still getting looks. I made it all the way through the store and I have one more thing to get and the poor 70 year old shows up with a car cart. So what is a smart, educated woman to do -- simple thing would be to just hurry up and be done in the existing cart. But no, this smart, educated woman is controlled by 3 year olds, so I did the most illogical thing - I transferred all my groceries to the car cart and finished my shopping and paid. I'm sure I got 20 looks of disgust throughout my trip through the store. These people either have never had kids or they have amnesia.
The night continued in the same fashion - the fights were just about different things - "I don't WANT apple sauce" - "Just one more show" - "I don't WANT to go to sleep". Thank God for endcap wine displays. My mantra is "this just cannot be normal" - it's our normal, however, and somehow I have to fight for control. All of you mothers of 4 and 5 year olds, please tell me there is light at the end of this tunnel. I'll take all the advice I can get! Meanwhile, I will embrace my "normal" and take the hugs and kisses in between the tantrums - because then there is this....
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