Tuesday 8/30 Day 17; desperation and miracles

I was at the end of my store of patience today.
In a moment of desperation, I put two preschoolers (age 4 and 5) on a couch and told them to work it out.
Prior to this I've endured endless arguments and fights and bickering over who gets to talk, and about what, who gets to pee first, who's imaginary car is more red than the other one's... and who said the word "blue" like 'blew' and who said it like 'bleue'...from the perspective of a 4 year old and 5 year old respectively.  Deep breath.  And one more...keep going...

So the boys were absolutely hilarious.  Sitting on the couch, no, rephrase: climbing on and vaulting over the couch, and discussing "how to play together" was like one of those YouTube videos of someone coming out of anaesthesia and talking about unicorns and God.  I've never laughed so hard!  Or been so amazed at how well a theory worked.

Previously I had flipped thru a few books on Non Violent Communication and Parenting - set out for me by the mom of the kids I'm nannying, of course.  I've heard of it before and my initial impression was along the lines of "good for her, but not for me".  I mean, it makes good solid sense if you have a child that is compatible with discussion and empathy and in touch with their feelings.  In spite of my best efforts and interest and self-education, my fourth child is NOT that child.  My child responds well to clear concise black-n-white instantaneous reaction.  But I keep trying.  So at 4:30pm and at the end of my rope, I grabbed both boys up and sat them on the couch and forcefully insisted that they "work it out!"  And so they did.

After 20 minutes on the couch, they played together joyfully and cooperatively for 45 minutes, and then thru dinner, and then afterwards.  My god, what miracle did I stumble over??

It will never work again, I'm sure of it... but for today it was a blessing in a moment of absolute desperation.  I guess it's true: miracles are the product of desperation.  I was desperate, it was a miracle.  And that is all I need to say about Tuesday and Day 17.

Day 7

Up early, like yesterday, and not loving it but...doing it.  Todays agenda was a "lego fun day" at a library near us so once we got H off to work, we made our way there.  We got there with time to spare...45 minutes of time actually.  sigh.  How come I can't get this stuff right? lol!

We played with 5 ginormous bins of legos that the staff put out about 20 minutes early just for us - thank you Angels! There was some negotiation and whining about sharing, and all between G and I, but I stuck to my guns about it because this is part of what I'm doing here instead of at work: I am re-teaching my son social skills that are acceptable to ME, and modeling how disagreements should be handled by adults.  It wasn't too bad but I did feel uncomfortable for a minute or two, wondering if I should just give in and let him put his white lego blocks on the blue wall I was building because he whined that he waaaaaanted to, and that he wasn't evvvvvver gonna get to do it hiiiiiis way, but then the discomfort faded as he slumped away for a second and then came back with a great idea to build something of his own.  I didn't even say, "I JUST told you that!" so I gave myself a sticker.  Not really, but I totally could have earned one for good behavior.

After that we stopped by his dads house to pick up an extra carseat he was lending us and  G sweetly left some freshly picked buttercups in a shot glass and wrote his name on a post it note to leave with the flowers.  Then things got a little less sweet on the way home.  G can get very...uh..."end of the world attitude" as his dad calls it.  It started with, "we are never gonna get home! it's taking too long!" and devolved into, "I'm never gonna get in a car again and no one is ever gonna get to do anything at all ever again in my whole family!"  All that was missing was a violin sound track.  For some reason, it's always a 'button pusher' for me, always making me instantly on edge and irritated.  It's so dramaaaatic!  I did my best to breath through it and stay calm during the 20 minute drive.  As we pulled into our driveway and I was telling G that he needed to come up with something positive and happy to say to offset the doom and gloom, and that we could go outside and play for awhile as soon as he did, I was gritting my teeth in exasperation.  Surely this was a teachable moment if I could keep my cool.  Did I mention my own aging hormones are a little loopy these days? Prone to irrational irritation and an extremely short fuse?  Sigh.  As I was trying to get him to say something happy, he yelled, "I'm not EVER gonna be happy again and so are you gonna not be for the REST of this whole day and I don't WANNA go outside ever again until I'm not even 4 anymore!" aaaaaaaand cue my red face, bulging eyes, and steam pouring out of my ears.  I pulled G into the house, him shrieking the whole time, and me muttering, "that is IT, I have HAD it with your attitude, I am NOT going to deal with your ingratitude TODAY" and I wasn't sure if I was talking to him or to myself.  I put  my hot, sweaty, overtired, overstimulated, very young son to bed where he promptly fell asleep and stayed asleep for almost 2 hours.  A teachable moment indeed.  Perhaps I need to re-evaluate his sleep patterns?

I spent some quality time surfing FaceBook, eating ice cream, and even crying a little bit while he slept.  Pretty typical for a SAHM I think.  Then I did laundry.  It never ends, the laundry, it never ends.

We went to pick up H from work after he woke up, and came home to eat dinner and then went back out so H could do some driving practice.  G's evening was completed with a long tubby, being tucked into bed into clean sheets, and being read to by his big sister.  I didn't accomplish any major milestones on this day, didn't complete a curriculum plan or secure our finances, didn't break thru any emotional or trust barriers with G, but I was with him, all day, and I kept him safe from strangers, all day...and sometimes that is enough when you consider the big picture.  Sometimes "enough" is all that a mom can do.  And sometimes, when you pull back and look long at the big picture, "enough" is almost a miracle.