"Mum of the Year" vs. "Survival Mummy"

You know those moments that happen where you feel like you're a super mom? It might be at the park, or the grocery store, or just at home, but you handle something and feel like "Mum of the Year" (sincerely, not sarcastically!). You deal with whatever is going on and think, if anyone could see me doing this, they'd think, "she's a good mother, she's doing a great job."

I haven't had one of those moments in quite awhile!

I feel like all the moments I have these days are survival mummy moments. With two very active little girls, one about to turn four and one about to turn two, life is never sedate. There's Big Sis with her Big Sis attitude, switching between "mother hen" and "type-A aerobics instructor" with Little Sis, from "here, Little Sis, you can share my teddy bear," to "NO! that is NOT how we play with that! I do NOT want you to use that! Do it THIS way! This is how we play this game!"
Then there is Little Sis, who seems to think she's perfectly entitled to do and have everything Big Sis does and has. So the innate two-year-old stubbornness coupled with this desire to be just like her big sister leads to constant battles! Battles about what cup she may use; about wearing a diaper; about going on the big climber at the park; about getting into her crib... It's an exhausting exercise in "which battles are worth fighting?"
Adding to the survival mentality is the growing list of things, big and small, that have happened since we moved into our first home in November. New roof, new furnace, an 80-foot tree losing a large limb and needing to come down entirely, a "new" bathroom stripped back to the concrete due to mold.. It's all I can do some days to move the girls through the motions of a "normal" day!

So I find that most days, instead of feeling like I'm handling things well, I feel like I'm just keeping my head above water. I feel like instead of driving the train, I am running to hop on the caboose before it all goes off the rails. I forget that a basic premise of parenting is that the PARENT is in charge! I think maybe I need some kind of signal for myself, like tattooing on my hand, "I'm the boss!" or "Mummy is in charge!" It's funny how easily two pint-sized munchkins can distract from this fundamental truth, and how difficult it can be sometimes to just step back and de-escalate.

I think, in the absence of any tattoos, I will try just slowing things down. Instead of expecting a day full of crises (though there have been several lately!), I will just try to let things run their course. And maybe do a little more in the way of sending out calm vibes instead of stressed ones. And if all else fails, I will lock myself in the bathroom with the ipod and a bottle of wine, while the girls run amok doing gymnastics on the beds. That's taking charge, right? :)

Things I Swore I'd Never Say/Do

Before becoming a parent, I had a laundry list of things I vowed I'd never say, or do, once I had kids. I find myself breaking these vows on an almost daily basis. Herein, a sample - I am well on my way to becoming a walking, talking stereotype of motherhood:

1. Talking about myself in the third person. "No, Little Sis, MUMMY is holding the cup/ toothpaste/giant stuffed kangaroo. Yes, it IS time for bed. Big Sis is in her bed, Mummy is getting into her... er, my... um, Mummy and Daddy's bed..." Excellent grammar instruction, don't you think?

2. Eat what my children reject. "No, that broccoli is for you. Just try it... Ok, just leave it on your plate. No, Mummy doesn't want it. No, thank you... It's - ." Pursed lips are no match for a determined toddler who is intent on sharing!

3. Lick my finger or thumb and then wipe off my child's face. But, really, the alternative of cereal bar filling all around their lips is just not any better! And it's just so handy when the wipes are out of reach...

4. Say no without a reason. Especially once Big Sis was into the defiant, 2 1/2 year old stage, that one flew out the window in a hurry. "No, because I'm telling you, that's why!" "Because I said so!" "Because I'm the one in charge!" (is this to remind her, or me?) "That's just the way it is!" "Because it is!" And the list goes on...

5. Have discussions in public places about bodily functions - with my children or otherwise! But then, how do you stop a three-year-old from narrating what is happening in your public bathroom stall? Or pointing out what someone else is doing?? Sometimes, it's just not possible. And when your life revolves around diapering, potty training, teaching proper words for body parts and functions, sometimes stories and anecdotes seem to tell themselves, regardless of how appropriate (or not!) they might be in a given situation... (and regardless of how much you wish you could erase what you just said, after the fact!).

6. Yell. This one was really hard - I did so well, for so long, and then one day, the frustration, exhaustion, sibling rivalry, and defiance, just all became too much. And it happened. And then it happened again. And it doesn't happen often, but sometimes, raising my voice is the only recourse left. And then I think, what did I know about parenting before I had kids, anyway?! And the next time I use my finger as a washcloth, or say that "I am the boss!", I laugh at myself and think, I guess there's a reason that stereotypes exist - because often, they're true anyway. And it makes me feel better to know that thousands of other mothers are out there somewhere, doing the same things that they swore they'd never do, with their own kids.

Labels

I try really hard not to use the term "full-time parent." People seem to use this as a stand-in for "stay at home parent," and while I understand the reason (people have full-time jobs, so I guess it correlates to some degree), I think it's insulting. Because, really? Are people who work at a "full-time job" only "part-time parents?" Just because Mr. C. goes to the office every day doesn't mean he stops being a parent - he gets the phone calls, the screaming in the background, the "GET HOME NOW" cries for help - and I know that he doesn't shut down the daddy part of his brain when he walks out the door. And all of my mom-friends who work full-time are definitely not just part-time moms!

But then, where does that leave those of us who do the parenting job full-time? Whenever someone asks me what I do, I really struggle with a quick answer. "I stay at home" sounds lazy, and whatever else being at home with my girls is, it definitely does not allow for laziness! "I work at home," while true in spirit, doesn't really describe it either, because I don't have a home-based business, which is what "work at home" conjures up for people. Part of me thinks, what do you mean, what do I do? Do you not see these two bright, highly energetic girls beside me?? I do THIS! THIS consumes me. My energy, time, care-giving skills, creativity, management skills, multi-tasking ability, patience, physical fitness level, calmness under pressure, and more, are poured into this daily, 24/7 role. So how do I sum that up in five words or less? Plus the part-time work I do, sounds like I'm a camp counselor ("I also teach music and drama to children") - like it's an afterthought, just something I dip into, rather than actual, professional work.

So although "full-time parent" is a phrase that I consciously never use, I would love to have something concise and snappy, to convey all of this! (Unfortunately, "superwoman" is already taken! :)

JK info meeting for parents - let the anxiety begin!

Last night, Mr. C and I went to the JK (junior kindergarten) information meeting at the school Big Sis will go to. I have very conflicted feelings about JK, and I did my best to stay open-minded (i.e. not stomp in, sit down and cross my arms in an "oh, yeah? prove to me this is a good idea!" sort of way). I succeeded (for most of the meeting). However, I felt like it was the first day of grade seven all over again!

The giggly, sort of nervous, "look at us, this is so exciting" fluttering around as people came in, saying hello, surreptitiously looking around the room for others you might recognize, picking where to sit, and then waiting for the teacher to start talking!
There were some parents there who already seemed to know each other, and stuck together accordingly, chatting away about school shopping lists, early bus times and the like. There were those who came alone, and a few who brought their children. Some were there for the SK french immersion information, some were parents who already had older children in the school and so already knew the teachers and principal, and some were like us, totally new to it all.

I felt like the jostling, positioning, politicking and competition were already starting! There was the "popular" group, the parents who were already joking, laughing and comfortable. The over-achieving mom, who asked questions about whether her child would be behind in grade one since our school isn't going to have "full day learning" next year (! seriously?! behind by grade one?!). There were questions about what "pre-learning" we as parents should be doing with our children before they start. I wanted to say, "our children are THREE! this is insane!"
There was the mom who said, "I'm not going to lie, I've been waiting for this!" when given the list of what our children need to bring to school in the fall. Apparently trundling off to Zeller's with her child is happening in the near future (if she hasn't done it already!). I don't even know if I agree with junior kindergarten, and this woman has already been dreaming about school supplies for her child??

And thus, the anxieties start to rush in. I spent the first portion of the evening trying to convince myself that "I don't need these moms to be my friends. I have friends. This is not about whether or not they will like me! This is an info night about Big Sis starting school. What if they don't like me? Why do they all seem to know each other already? What am I doing wrong??" See how quickly that spiraled out of control?

Then, I started feeling stressed about her "placement" (e.g. will she be in a morning or afternoon class, a straight JK or a JK/SK split, with the teacher I've already met or with the other one who is recovering from surgery and so not at the meeting...). And clearly I'm not the only one, because while we're doing the classroom tour, parent after parent approaches the teacher with, "how likely is it that we get our requested placement?" The standard answer is that the preferences are taken in the order in which they are given, so, those who registered earlier in the process are more likely to get their first choice. To which "school supply mom", who is the third or fourth to ask, replies, "oh, no, I was here as soon as you opened on the first day. I was probably knocking on the door before you even unlocked it!" hahaha, laughy-giggly-i'm-so-silly, "so that means I'll totally get what I asked, right?"
And although I know it's not a competition, and it is not about the parents, it still feels like somehow I need to be more charming, more competent, more pro-active, more enthusiastic, in order to prove that I'm a good mom! Like, look at me! I'm taking my daughter school supply shopping too! Yes, I've started phonix pre-reading with her! She knows all her sounds! And can tie her own shoes! And always remembers to say please and thank you!
And frankly, we are just not there yet. And I don't want to be!

So I might just have to chill out and decide that I really don't need to make friends out of all those other parents, and that it really is about Big Sis having fun and meeting people and learning all kinds of things, and that I don't have to play all the games that may go along with having a child in elementary school.
And if anyone can tell me how to do that, I will buy you your very own school supplies...

Sisters? Friends?

This conversation occurred in the car, in Guelph, driving past Mr. C's elementary school.

Mr C: "Look, Big Sis, this is where Daddy went to school!"

Big Sis: "I will go to V.M. Public School!"

Us: "That's right, you will!"

Big Sis: "Where will Little Sis go?"

Mr. C: "She'll go to V.M. Public School, too. You'll be at the same school, but in different classes, just like now when you go to preschool and she goes to nursery school."

Big Sis: "Maybe when we're at the same school, we can be friends!"

Mr. C: "Sure, you can be. But you know what? You can be friends right now, too! You don't have to wait until you're at school together to be friends."

Big Sis: "Well... noooo.... I think I want to wait. I don't want to be friends right now. I just want to be sisters."

The Bad Mommy/Sane Adult conundrum

This past week, I was visiting my parents with the girls, while Mr. C was in Calgary at a work conference. I love visiting my parents, and I love how much my parents love it when I come with the girls to visit, so it works out well! There is always some time for myself, there are many fun things to do with Mum and the girls, and I get to have real, adult conversations with my parents in the evenings, over cocktails and dinner. That last part sounds especially good, doesn't it? I think so, too...! I'll let you know if it ever actually happens that way! We TRY to have real conversations and nice dinners, and often have some success, but even with the best-laid plans, of course, things will never go the way you wish they would!

This visit, Mum and I decided that we would feed the girls earlier (i.e. their normal time, as in my parents' house, dinner is almost always after 7:00pm). I would then bathe them and get them ready for bed, and they could watch tv as a treat while the adults ate. That way, the routine would stay consistent and I could have nice relaxing dinners with my parents.
The first night went fairly well; Mr. C was also there so we could tag-team like we usually do for the bedtime routines.
The next night, we did things exactly the same way. Feed girls, bathe girls, settle girls in front of the tv on the "big comfy couch," and chat around them until dinner. Of course, dinner was ready at exactly the time the melt-downs began. So the nice, calm, grown-up dinner was traded for whiny, crying, clingy children and me deciding I needed to put them to bed and then come back to the table. Once I managed to get them into our room, Big Sis did really well and got right into her bed. Little Sis was marginally calm as long as I was holding her, but of course started screaming like her hair was on fire as soon as I tried to put her into the crib. I tried everything and then put her down, apologized to Big Sis for Little Sis' crying, promised I'd come back after dinner, and left.

Back downstairs, my parents were great, supportive, saying, just leave them for a few minutes, it's ok, you need to eat, I'll go up soon so you can finish dinner, etc. And I know they were right. Because I did need to eat dinner. I was hungry, tired and disappointed in how the evening had gone, and it was late, and Little Sis needs to be able to self-soothe, and fall asleep without me having to be there (which she could do perfectly as a baby, and now as a toddler she seems to have forgotten she ever fell asleep without sleeping on me!)...

And still, I felt like the worst, smallest, meanest, coldest mother in the world. Eating my dinner, my favourite meal to have at my parents', listening to Little Sis cry and scream and wail, and I might as well have been eating cardboard with a sign around my neck that said "neglectful! shame! BAD mother!!" A no-win situation. And she did stop crying, eventually, what felt like hours later but was really before dessert, and in the morning she was as happy as a clam, with her usual sunny disposition (and love for me) intact.

But it was just another situation, one of many, that we all encounter and that leave us feeling like we have to choose - are we going to be a "good mother" or are we going to stay sane? Why do we feel like they're mutually exclusive?

Time to myself...

Some days, I am amazed at what I will do in order to carve out a few minutes to myself.
Today, for instance, after spending the day with the girls, and in between cooking dinner and eating it, I found myself in the (unfinished) basement, with my shirt in my hands, pre-treating the tiny spots of olive oil that had splattered onto it while I was cooking. And I was actually whistling. That's right - whistling. In the cold, dim, unfinished basement, wearing no shirt, rubbing stain-remover into fabric, and thinking, yeah, this isn't so bad! I'd better be careful, or soon I'll be doing my own ironing instead of giving my (two) shirts that need to be ironed to Mr. C, who does a much better job than I do!

Other highlights from today included a trip to BouClair to look for curtains. Trying to cut short the usual complaints of "I don't want to go out," "I'm tired," "I don't feel well" from Big Sis, I spent the 20 minutes leading up to getting out of the house, and the six minute car ride, playing "what rhymes with BouClair?" Try it - you'll be surprised how entertaining this is. Or at least, how well it passes the time for six minutes in the car... Our favourites were "blue hair" (nope, nobody with blue hair at BouClair while we were there, sadly); "Shoo, Bear!" (no bears either - probably a good thing); and "you, there!" (which made Little Sis laugh hysterically.) See how valuable that Improv class I took in university turned out to be?

Another Mummy blog...

I'm about to add to the millions of mummy blogs out there in cyberspace! Two friends suggested I start a blog a couple of weeks ago, and although I dismissed the idea at the time, it has grown on me. Mostly, it's because it seems a little healthier than just ranting to myself! I'm not planning on writing a thesis about what it's like being a stay-at-home mum, but every now and again, it will be nice to share the trials, tribulations, and humour with someone, even if that someone is only the two aforementioned friends! :) So here we go...