Enough Lessons Already/Beer-Thirty

I just put a cider in the fridge--it's just after 1 pm.  If I didn't have a new babysitter coming over to meet our toddler at dinner time I might have just gone ahead and cracked it open.  Today has been a "mountain" day with Fi.  You know that saying, "Don't make mountains out of molehills?"  Well, today she has just been climbing the mountains--no hills in sight.  Every battle she chose was a battle I couldn't back down from--from climbing into the high windowsills to kicking the dogs to throwing dishes.  If I were talking to another parent I would say, "terrible two's huh," but I gotta say, I am calling B.S. on that.

She's just over two.  She sees, hears, understands, and misunderstands so much now.  She knows about control, and she wants some.  And I think that's normal, great, should be encouraged in a safe, loving way.  Potty training has been a success!  And now she says, "Wait outside Momma," so I do.  And she says, "Me-me do it" (for some reason she calls herself "me-me"), and I let her try until she asks for help or succeeds.  I think the "terrible two's" are something that happens when we stop parenting--when the tantrum wins every time, when we forget that freedom has limits. I'm not saying if your kid is strong-willed you are not parenting, I'm saying parenting is what happens when the strong-willed are loved into independence with care--and tears and sweat and probably some of our blood too (raise your hand if you have gotten a busted nose or lip or something from your child!!!).

 Independence is something we all crave.  But there are things that she just can't do, because if I let her do it, I wouldn't be a loving mom.  I can't let her climb in the windowsills, because even though she is a great climber, she isn't a great walker, and rather uncoordinated once up to the height she would like to climb.  She can't kick the dogs, because they are living things, family, and she needs to know that inflicting pain just because she feels frustrated is not a good way to deal with her emotions.  She can't throw things around, because she needs to learn the value of things, and how to be a good steward (plus those things often hurt people or dogs).

 It would be great if she only chose to push one of these issues a day, not one every 30 seconds, but today she has chosen them all, over and over again.  And I. AM....I refuse to say tired, I'm am exhausted of saying and hearing that word...I am b r e a t h i n g slowly, and accepting all the grace that God is pushing my way.

I have not yelled today--which is a miracle, because I have fought not to be a yeller for the last 10 years, and I quite often fail.  I have taken lots of deep deep breaths, I have teared up, I have let her scream and yell and tantrum in the hallway alone until she can calm down (and I can calm down).  I have said, "I love you," "That's not loving, that's why it's not ok," "We do nice things because Jesus loves us, and it's how we show others He loves them too!"  She has had quite a few "time outs."  And even though I have not seen amazing, immediate results, I know this is parenting, that hard thing to do to help guide, shape, encourage a child to grow into an adult.  A person that can be a blessing, a rock, a lovely beautiful, self-controlled, self-sufficient adult (I'll throw in well-rounded too).

Today has been full of lessons, most of them, probably all of them, learned by me.  And today I have taken the time to be patient, knowing it's a process, that "Rome wasn't built in a day," and potty training took several bad days before it got good.  But mostly letting God love on me by showing me that in the tough, teary, ugly, He is there, with more love, grace, kind words, and encouragement, ready to give it all if I will just say "yes please, and thank you."

So I put a cider in the fridge--and by that I mean a hard cider, because as much as I have tried (especially being married to an Irishman), I do not like beer.  I also made sure my tonic water is chilled, just in case cider is not cutting it by bedtime (I do love a good Gin-n-Tonic).  Because I know I will quite happily "wine-down" this evening once she is in bed, and thank God for that beverage, and hope I will be as open to receiving his small mercies tomorrow too.

ps--watch the movie Mom's Night Out if you haven't yet--I'm serious it is hilarious, and so relevant!!! And a great book to read for a stomping toddler is Rude Mule, well written enough toddlers can understand why being polite is so much nicer.

Musings

 The weather is so strange today.  If I lived coastally I would well be worried about a hurricane.  The winds are skittish, and then suddenly violently raging.  The fog was so deep just five minutes ago I thought it must be snowing, but now it’s sunny again, though the trees are still swaying perilously.  I’m sure snow is not far off in this weather, but at the moment the only thing of concern is that there is actually too much water to kayak on (or so I’ve been told—it was raining and I’m a fair-weather boater). 

Fiona has done something to the computer once again.  She only hit a button or two while I was actually using it, but I didn’t see which ones, and now I can’t even view the whole screen at once.  I tried hitting the ‘zoom out’ buttons but that hasn’t changed anything.  It’s a very odd feeling—like reading a “large print” book without realizing it and wondering what is different. 

Thursday night is my first go at being in another book club since the one I started in Cali (I only got to go twice before we moved, but they have “soldiered bravely on” without me).  Last month was supposed to be my first month, but everyone got the flu, so it was cancelled—I hope that wasn’t a bad omen and I missed it.  This month there were three books picked instead of the usual two, so I’ve read the first one and am halfway through the second two.  You’re only really supposed to pick the one you think you would enjoy the most and read that one—but of course I’m an overachiever and a teacher’s pet, and I want them to like me!  Being an American can be tough here, or any place not there really, as we get the rep. of being rather annoyingly loud and obnoxiously pompous (not underserved most of the time).  So I try to tone down the pompous and use my “indoor” voice for the first few times I meet someone. 

Well, I promised Fi we would “paint with the new paints” when she got done resting.  And though she hasn’t really slept at all, she did quite happily play in her cot for about half an hour.  I picked up some finger paints at ASDA the other day (British Wal-mart—owed by Wal-mart—yes I have crossed over to the dark side), but as Fi has Hand, Foot & Mouth Disease, I think we will just use the other new regular paints we can use with brushes and sponges.  Wish me luck/let’s hope up it cleans up nicely.