Give Me Strength

Look at that face...such a sweet, precious, innocent girl. Except when she's not...

Many people have told me that the terrible twos are really the terrible threes (to which I agree), but that four is fantastic (to which I hope and pray). I'm banking on Lainey flipping the switch in 19 days and waking up all sugar with just a dash of spice. Because I need a break.

Last week was a daily struggle with Lainey’s tantrums and defiance. She was testing us at every turn. For the most part I kept my cool. I was firm, but didn’t yell, and if I felt myself entering the adult temper tantrum danger zone, I just walk away from the situation until I had Mark with me. In fact, when Mark came home from the gym on Wednesday, Lainey enthusiastically greeted him with, "Mom says I can do whatever I want! She doesn't care anymore!" (My girl may be a smarty pants, but she doesn’t identify irony quite yet). Granted, saying those words wasn't the best parenting example, but I never raised my voice and no one cried, so I put it in the “win” column.

But, when Mark left Thursday for his long-awaited guys’ weekend, I was left with no reinforcements and I’m so sad to report the ugly monster that is my temper overtook me when I reached my tipping point Saturday night.

All day, Lainey fought me at every turn. I mean EVERY turn. The only thing she did willingly was get ready for swim lessons. I was running on about five hours of sleep and her whining and tantrums were really fraying my nerves. Then that afternoon we went to a gathering at a friend’s house, but had to leave after only 20 minutes. 18 of those minutes were spent trying to talk Lainey out of her hysterics over the dog (who was safely stowed away upstairs, but she had heard bark and so she refused to be in the house). I can’t put any blame on her for this; she has a very real fear of dogs. As I sat in my friend’s backyard, trying to calm her and her pleas to go home, I finally had to admit that leaving was the right thing to do. Whether rational or not, she was scared, and she needed to go somewhere she felt safe. But, I was very disappointed. I had been looking forward to this event for a few weeks and it really bummed me out to leave. So, as much as I knew this wasn’t her typical tantrum, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t annoyed.

When we got back home, things seemed to get back on track and I decided we could all use a movie night—contingent on Lainey’s good behavior the rest of the afternoon—which I made clear to her. She was pretty good at first, but then slowly started back with the obnoxious behavior. Dumping her crayons on the floor or being too rough with Nick; laughing and running away from me when I tried to discipline her. Then at dinner she got angry because I refused dessert (she had already had two cookies at the party in my attempt to soothe her). She went into full-blown tantrum mode and threw her plate on the floor and her cup at me. And that’s when I snapped. A week’s worth of frustration and exhaustion erupted from me and there was nothing I could do to stop myself. I yelled like I have never yelled before. I told her to run to her room “NOW” and stay there until I came to get her. And that wasn’t to punish her—it was to protect her.  I wasn’t worried I would physically harm her, but in that moment, I didn’t trust myself not to say something really hurtful. And believe me, I was thinking some pretty horrible stuff. It was without a doubt, my very worst parenting moment to date.

I stood there in the kitchen shaking with tears welling up in my eyes and my anger switched from Lainey to myself. I could hear Lainey wailing and then heard her say, “but, I wanted to watch a movie!” And relief washed over me. That’s all she took away from my tantrum. Not that I screamed at her like a mad woman and told her to run from me, but that I took her movie time away.

I’ve been following a fantastic blog called Hands Free Mama. I so admire Rachel Macy Stafford’s courage for putting herself out there and sharing her ugly parenting moments and her commitment to become a better parent and person. In a world where we are bombarded by images and expectations of perfect parenting, it's refreshing to hear someone share real missteps and struggles, not just admissions of little shortcuts like "I fed my kids cereal for dinner." In reading her blog, I feel comforted that I’m not alone in my issues, and I find hope that it is possible to change the negative things that come with my type-A personality and become more patient and loving—not just when it is easy, but during the tough times, too. The times when those qualities are needed the most! One of my favorite quotes from her blog is “Who I am becoming matters more than who I once was. Today matters more than yesterday.” I’ve focused on this quote the past two days as I try to recover from Saturday. I can’t take that moment back. It’s done and gone and berating myself over and over isn’t going to change anything. What I can do is acknowledge where I have weaknesses and think about how I will handle myself when I find myself in the same situation again—which I no doubt will.

And so I share, not because I particularly want people to know about this incident, but because I hope maybe it will help someone else who has a really tough moment and feels pretty low and alone. (Although I probably won’t link this one to Facebook—my courage only goes so far, so this is for my tried and true followers only). We’re all trying our best. We’re going to get it right, and we’re going to get it wrong—sometimes really, really wrong. So we pick ourselves up and try harder the next day.

The good news is that in the aftermath, Lainey still only seems concerned that she didn’t get to see the Tinker Bell movie on Saturday, and she told me today that I’m “the best mommy ever.” So, I guess I don’t have to start her therapy fund quite yet. 

Smiles on Sunday
"Today matters more than yesterday."