Dirty Little Secret

Dear Ironflower and Lovebug,

I love you two more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone. You are beautiful, brilliant and funny.

But sometimes I want to send you to boarding school. I know that you are only three and not quite two, but just hear me out. Every time you have a baby-sitter (be it grandparents or family friend), I hear about what amazingly well-behaved children you are. Ironflower, your teacher says you NEVER whine at school. She was genuinely surprised when I picked you up yesterday and you started whining. And Lovebug, you NEVER do your screaming thing in public anymore. You only do it for me - you’re already up to four screaming fits this morning. And well, children, I’m getting kind of tired of the tantrums, whining, screaming and general defiance.

Sometimes I think I must be doing something wrong and that’s why all of your unpleasantness is saved for me. And that’s where I got the boarding school idea. At boarding school, you wouldn’t have to assert your independence - you’d already be independent! Isn’t that what you want? At boarding school you would be able to be your INCREDIBLE public selves ALL THE TIME.

And I would get to spend a day or two free from screaming, tantrums and defiance.

Because kiddos, I would probably only make it without you for about two days. And then I’d have to rush up to your boarding school for hugs. And there’s also the fact that you MIGHT have some separation anxiety without me for a couple of days. Especially at bedtime

So maybe the boarding school idea won’t work.

So I guess that means we’re going to have to improve your behavior right here at home. Got any ideas?

All my love,

Mommy

So this morning started out positively. When my alarm went off, I determined that both children were still asleep so I turned it off and slept until 8am. When I went to Lovebug’s room, he was perfectly cheerful and waited patiently for me to put away all of yesterday’s laundry. As I was dressing him (or, to be more accurate, wrestling him into a diaper and outfit while trying not to be a victim of grievous bodily harm), I heard Ironflower call for Mommy. She didn’t sound distressed, so I called back that I’d be there momentarily.

In the minute it took me to finish dressing Lovebug and walk across the hall, something possessed my daughter. She screamed in anger when I opened the door. I offered to shut it so that she could open it herself. She screamed at me to go away. So of course I walked in and asked what was wrong. Lovebug ran into hug her, which resulted in a glare bigger than the one she gave him when he took her kitty.

She is not yet three and I really wasn’t prepared for all this adolescent drama. So I started putting away her laundry, hoping she would calm down and tell me what was going on. Instead she and Lovebug began opening and shutting the door (he shutting, her opening) and I could just see the smashed fingers. I told them to stop please. Lovebug headed straight for the books but Ironflower headed straight for me. And then she smacked me. In the face.

Have I ever mentioned that Ironflower has never been smacked? And the only time she has seen a smack is when I’ve smacked her brother’s hand to stop him from pulling her hair? At first I was shocked. First the screaming and now this? Where was my sunny little morning girl?

My second reaction, of course, was anger. I picked her up and put her back on her bed. I said things like, “We don’t hit! Our family uses words! You don’t hit your mommy!” until I calmed down. While dressing her, I tried again to ascertain what the heck was up with her. No luck.

We did all the hair and toothbrushing and Lovebug and I went downstairs. She finally apologized. I have had no explanation about what was wrong or why she woke up so angry. So I am still completely confused. Who was that child? And what I am going to do if she comes back?

As I may have mentioned (here and to every other mother I’ve talked to in the past two weeks) Ironflower has been having a hard time leaving school. In fact, she has behaved better receiving shots than she has leaving school lately. On Tuesday, even though I made sure to drive around a bit so that Lovebug would fall asleep and thus stay in the car and I brought her juice, when I got to the playground Ironflower reacted the same old way. She screamed “No!” at the sight of me.

I did try not to take it personally. I really did. But I still cried on the way home. Though not as much as last time. I couldn’t help it. This resulted in her receiving a rather stern talking to from a sympathetic Hubby. And a suggestion for how to react when school is over and Mommy comes to pick her up. But I didn’t think it would help enough. So when I put her to bed that night (after I had calmed down considerably), I decided to really talk to her about it. Calmly, like you’re supposed to. She couldn’t verbalize her feelings, but I did find out (for sure) that it wasn’t about me, it WAS that she liked school. So I told her a story about some of her favorite characters that included the whole situation.

And then Shrek, of course, learned to act the way I wished Ironflower would. And they lived happily ever after. I told her the same story Wednesday night. And reminded her of it in the car this morning. Just in conversation, of course. All natural-like. (Thank the Goddess that pre-schoolers thrive on repetitive conversations)

And today, when Ironflower saw me and her teacher began sending kids out of the gate, she smiled and ran to me and gave me a big hug. And I only feel slightly guilty about manipulating her to do so.

parenting

preschool behavior

We went to a Luau Party today. It was hosted and organized by some wonderful women from one of my mommy meetups. (I love Meetup.com) It should have been fun. It was fun for the kids - until it was time to leave. Zach started fussing after we’d been there for about an hour and a half. That’s his time limit on parks, playdates, restaurants, etc. When I explained to Zoe that it was time to leave, she began fussing in her own inimitable way (yelling “No!” and running away). I thought I would be stuck there all afternoon, trying to drag one child and then the other (Zach did not want to walk on his own) to the car. I was sweating by the time I strapped Zoe in.

I can’t help but wonder why my children seem so much more . . .um. . passionate than other children. Why do my kids always run in opposite directions? Why do my kids run when they could walk, yell when they could whisper, argue when they know they can’t change my mind? Am I just more incompetent than other mothers, or are my children especially high-spirited?

Yesterday we went to play with the little boy down the street. He just turned three and he is fascinated with the guys expanding his parents’ patio. He went out to watch them, so we joined him. Naturally my kids couldn’t just watch, they had to start playing with the extra dirt. And mix it with water. And create buckets of mud. And protest loudly when separated from said buckets. Zach even managed to get dirt in my mouth, so valiant was his struggle against being carried away from mud heaven. Meanwhile, my neighbor’s son affably went along with all of his mother’s suggestions and requests.

You’d think I’d be skinnier.

parenting

My daughter pushed a little girl out of her way yesterday. I had her stop playing and apologize (though I am well aware she didn’t actually mean it) to get the message across: NO PUSHING. But she wasn’t trying to hurt or bother the other girl, she was just determined to get to the slide. My son is experimenting with hair-pulling; will his sister cry every time he yanks on her hair? At not quite fifteen months, he doesn’t really understand why he gets a time-out when he makes his sister cry, but he is doing a lot less hair-pulling.

So it’s not like I’m the mother of perfect children who are never aggressive. Kids are selfish little creatures, it’s natural that knocking other children over or grabbing their toys if fine with two year olds. But what about the three year old who hits and pushes just because? Twice this week at the park (not the one with the Stepford mommies), Zoe has been pushed and hit repeatedly by slightly older boys. Who did not stop when she asked, did not stop when I said something and whose hands I hand to move away from her. One boy’s grandmother was across the park on her cell phone - she watched the situation but did nothing. The other mother didn’t notice until a few incidents later (Zoe was not his only victim) when hubby said something very loudly to the boy. Then she made him get off the jungle gym and sit on the bench for awhile, at least.

It wasn’t the hitting and pushing that shocked me per se, preschoolers can be pretty rough and tumble. It was her scared voice telling them to stop and those boys ignoring her. If my daughter or son did what those boys did, we would leave the park (or playdate) immediately. And my kid would know that I was angry.

I taught preschool for two years. And first and second grade for nine. There’s the thoughtless aggression common to all small children, and then there’s what I call mean kids. The kids who go out of their way to hurt others. The kids who would rather push the child holding the ball than play with the ball.

I don’t know what makes some kids mean kids. Their parents usually don’t notice or care until late in elementary school, where fights and suspensions force them to deal with the problem somehow. Depending on the parent, the response seems to be either spank and punish the child every time there’s a physical altercation, or to find counselors and medications to excuse the child’s behavior. And I always wonder, what if those parents had dealt with the meanness when the child was four - would it still be a problem?

It seems to me that too many parents wait to discipline their children these days. Limits and boundaries are shaky and parents never express real reactions to their children’s behavior. It’s always “S/he’s too little” until they’ve got a teenager who’s a complete mess.
parenting

behavior

My son has a huge bruise on his forehead. He whacked his head on the floor hard enough to leave a bruise. I would feel bad about this, if he had fallen or run into a table or something. But the little bugger whacked his head on the floor ON PURPOSE.

Seeing as he’s only 13 months old, I hugged him and soothed him anyway. He really is an adorable and engaging child, unless he’s pissed off. On this particular occasion, I had the audacity to sit him down on the floor so I could make lunch. Zachary wanted to be held, or to eat immediately. With those options not available, he whacked his head on the floor.

He does this every few days or so, though not usually hard enough to leave a bruise. I have talked to pediatricians and grandmas about this and all they say is, “He’s a boy.” No one seems surprised that when my son is confronted with the normal frustrations of toddler life, he whacks his head on the floor.

Does this explain why men can’t remember things like anniversaries or where the diaper bag is? Is it because they’ve all damaged the memory part of the lobe during toddlerhood?

toddlers

or maybe people could at least expect their children to behave appropriately to other children. Today we visited a playground in Ridgewood, N.J. It’s the one at Vet’s field on Maple Avenue, for anyone local. And I am pissed. Maybe it’s my years of teaching, my classes in developmental psychology or the fact that I realize that other children use the playground (and they have feelings too!) but I can’t believe the way some people let their children behave.

I can’t decide whether these parents are merely clueless about their children’s behavior (they do seem to spend a lot of time ignoring them) or whether they just don’t care about how their children behave towards others. Either way, here are a few suggestions (please feel free to pass this on to any parents you know).

PLAYGROUND ETIQUETTE 101

For Children:
1. Dirt and bark should stay on the ground.
2. The proper response for knocking over another child is, “I’m sorry.”
3. Pushing smaller children out of the way does not make it your turn.
4. If another adult asks you to stop doing something, you should stop doing it.

For Parents:
1. When your child hurts another child, both of you need to apologize. Or at least care.
2. It is not okay for your child to throw dirt and bark on the slides or on the other children.
3. Your child needs to learn what turns are. It is your responsibility to make sure that s/he takes them.
4. Other parents should not have to ask your child to stop hitting/pushing/throwing, that’s your job.
5. Your adult conversation, no matter how desperately you need to have one, should not take precedence over parenting your child.

Can you imagine what these children will be like as teenagers? Hmmmmm. . . rude bullies maybe? The kind that push violent loners over the edge?

parenting
children’s behavior

I spent twelve years teaching other people’s children. I taught preschool for a year and then spent eleven years teaching elementary school. With a very few (two actually) exceptions, I have liked all of my students. I always saw myself as a person who likes children.

I wasn’t disabused of this notion until I started taking my children to the park. Last summer and fall, we went to the park nearly every day. Two or three times a week I would meet children I absolutely did not like. They would push my toddler down, nearly knock my stroller over, thrown dirt and rocks all over the climbing equipment, push each other and yell obscenities. None of these children ever apologized. . . and neither did their parents.

As a former elementary school teacher, I sometimes have trouble keeping my mouth shut around misbehaving children. But when attentive and responsible parents are around, I don’t have to restrain myself - the parents make the children stop the inappropriate behavior. Unfortunately, I don’t meet those parents that often.

Yesterday we went to the play area at the mall. The area is for children five and under - and it’s not that exciting for five year olds. But there were a bunch of seven year olds there. Running around, knocking other kids down, pushing, hitting, etc. The mom in charge of them didn’t say anything to them or to their victims. She didn’t say anything until after I told the wild pack that they couldn’t run around like that in a small space made for little kids. I explained to them that they might get hurt (one had just tripped over a man’s feet and done a nosedive) and that they might someone else.

This inspired the mom to get up - “Did you tell them that they couldn’t play?”

“No, I told them they couldn’t play like that anymore because it wasn’t safe. There are a lot of toddlers here who can’t get out of their way. Also, one of them just tripped and landed face first.”

“Oh, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t tell them that they couldn’t play.”

WHAT???????????????? Lady, your kids are obviously terrorizing the other kids here and none of the other parents will talk to you and you’re worried about what I might have said?

I didn’t say that, though. I just began talking to my daughter, praising her for taking turns on the slide. The other mom walked away to talk to the gentleman who her son had tripped over.

Soon after that she and her darlings left.