Three's a crowd

I have three children. I have three adorable children age seven, five and three. I have three sweet, funny, beautiful children age seven, five and three who get along with each other – sometimes.

To state the obvious, three is an odd number. So it stands to reason that much of the time someone is going to be left out. There have been times, however, – large chunks of time even – 30 minutes, an hour, even several hours, when they have all gotten along, and gotten along well. Usually it involves an elaborate idea thought up by the oldest and the younger two are ordered around. Catch all that on a good day and the giggling and laughing may go on long enough for me to fold a couple loads of laundry or *gasp* read a book in peace.  More often than not, however, when the third child gets added to the mix, someone gets unhappy.

Interestingly enough, it does not seem to matter which two kids are paired up to begin with. Naturally it would be assumed that the two girls would gang up and exclude the lone boy, but sometimes the younger two (separated by a mere 19 months) like to keep out the big bad older sister and then other times my son wants to be a “big kid” so he and his older sister exclude the youngest. It seems any combination of two of my kids can get along swimmingly. Add the third and chaos likely ensues.

Two very clear examples come to mind – both a which have happened in a five-day span.  My son recently turned five and for his birthday he got a “big kid” bike with training wheels. My oldest has a similar bike (sans training wheels) and they decided that anyone who did not have a bike like theirs was a baby – which of course included their little sister who is still riding a tricycle. Never mind that my son has been riding a bike just like his three-year-old sister’s the day before, now he was a big kid like his big sister and could not stoop to playing with “babies.” Needless to say there were many tears shed by my youngest.

Then just days later – and the bike incident a distant memory – the younger two were enjoying the beautiful weather playing outside in the leaves while their older sister was inside doing her homework. For almost an hour I watched them run around the yard, ride their bikes and have what looked to be deep intellectual conversations where I no doubt believe they were solving the world’s problems. Then the oldest finished her homework, looked around and saw only boring old Mom, and decided she too would go outside and play.

Now, you many not believe me (and I agree that I do tend to exaggerate sometimes for effect), but I SWEAR, not two minutes had passed from the time my oldest shut the back door to go out and play when my son came inside crying. In those tiny 120 seconds the oldest had managed to undo all the goodwill between her younger siblings and had formed an alliance with her sister against her brother. 

“They won’t play with me,” he wailed. The proceeded to tell me in detail all the mean things his sisters were doing to him. He could have been exaggerating a bit too, but I really don’t know where he would get that from!

It all can happen that fast. One minute happy as clams, the next they are using physical violence against each other.  The teen years ought to be real fun …  

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Lessons learned the hard way ... the VERY hard way ...

Patience. It is something I like to think I have, but really have very little. When it comes to my kids it can go away VERY quickly.  When I lose my patience, I tend to be a yeller. Not something I am proud of, but I admit and I am yelling mom.

Plus I have two girls who like to test the little patience that I have very VERY often. This morning was one example. My youngest daughter is four and has a lot of difficulty making decisions. I try to give her only two choices but even then it takes her forever to make up her mind. This morning was no exception as she could not decide between the two shirts I gave her to choose from, the two headbands and then the two choices of footwear.

We were getting ready to leave for preschool and I told her to put on either her tennis shoes or her cowgirl boots. She hemmed and hawed for five minutes and still was without something on her feet. I told her I was going to the gas station and could take her to school as well, but she needed to get something on her feet – some fit throwing and yelling ensued (by her, not me). I removed myself from the meltdown and went into the garage to take care of some recycling and put my purse in the car. When I turned around she was standing on the steps with her boots in her hand. I figured that meant she chose her boots and needed help putting them on.

Nope. 

Instead she started freaking out again saying she didn't want to wear them. With as much calmness as I could muster I told her that if she chose NOT to wear the boots I was going to pick out her shoes. So, did she want to wear the boots or not? No, she said. Then as soon as I started walking in the house to get her some shoes she started yelling and screaming, “No, no, I do want to wear them, I do want to wear them!”

Now I could have stopped turned around and given her the boots to wear. But I have been down this road before. Many, MANY times. It never ends well. If I were to give her the boots she would then say she DIDN’T want them and we would go back and forth and then I would start yelling and there would be tears (probably from both of us).

So I stuck to my guns, grabbed her tennis shoes and struggled to get them on her feet as she literally kicked and screamed at me. Then, I picked her up and she continued to kick and scream and buckled her in her car seat. (This is very difficult to do with a kicking and screaming four-year-old.)

We started backing out of the garage and she (still screaming) began kicking the back of my seat. As calm as I could be I asked her stop. She continued I began counting her and told her if I got to three I was turning around and going home. I counted to one before the car was fully out of the garage. By the time we reached the end of the driveway I was at two. Then at the stop sign at the end of our street she kicked it again.

I knew I had a choice, I could turn the corner drive her to school screaming and carrying on and be to school on time. Or I teach her a lesson.

So I put the car in reverse and pulled into our driveway. In a calm clear tone I told her we were not going anywhere until her voice sounded like my voice and she said she was sorry. 

Then the bargaining happened. She cried and yelled that she would apologize and calm down while I was driving. Nope, not falling for it. I waited. She kicked the back of my chair again. I opened the garage door. More tears and yelling. She kicked, I pulled into the garage. More tears and yelling.

“When your voice can sound like my voice and you tell me you are sorry, we can go,” I calmly said again. She yelled and kicked. I turned off the car and continued my mantra. And she yelled and kicked. I turned off the car. She continued her routine. So did I.

I opened my door. Still she protested. I opened HER door. She yelled and kicked some more. I unbuckled her car seat. She freaked, BUT she didn’t kick.

I silently stood outside her door as she sniffled for a solid five minutes. It was the longest minutes of my life. I wanted to jump up and down yelling – “just say you’re sorry so I can take you to school. Don’t you know how easy this can be fixed? Just say you are sorry!!” But I calmly stood there and said nothing. I didn’t even look at her.

“Mommy, I want to give you a hug,” she said.

Whoa. Now what?? I had held my ground this long, did she think a hug was going to end this stand-off? It was well-played on her part I give her that, but I decided I wasn't giving in, mean as that may sound.

“I will give you a hug when you say you are sorry,” I told her. I waited for another two minutes. Then in a voice just above a whisper I heard it – “I’m sorry, Mommy.”

Hallelujah!!

I wanted to jump up and down and jabber on about how it is important to say you’re sorry and all that but I decided to just be calm and concise. “Thank you.” Then I gave her hug. (I may be mean, but I’m not a monster.)

I buckled her in, closed her door, got in the car and we drove to preschool. It was a quiet ride, but there were no tears, no kicking and we walked in to her school hand in hand. We were 10 minutes late, but that’s ok. Hopefully the lesson I taught her was just as important as whatever she missed in those 10 minutes.

Now I am exhausted … And I need an Oreo – or 12 …

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New study finds we need studies to validate ourselves

I read an article a couple days ago that said it is scientifically proven that writing is good for you. I really don't know why we needed a study to confirm that fact. Of course writing is good for you. It's not like writing is a bad habit or something like smoking or eating too many doughnuts. (Which of course begs the question - how many is too many?)

It's kind of a no brainer that writing is good for you. It's a skill they teach first graders. It's something you will always have to use throughout your life. Whether you are jotting a little note in a birthday card, writing the next great American novel or throwing words out into the interweb hoping someone might read them and therefore validate yourself as a person, we all have reasons to write.

The article went on to say that people who write frequently and more specifically people who write about themselves and their feelings frequently (i.e. through journaling or a self satisfying blog, cough, cough) are able to work through their problems more quickly because they force themselves to "take a step back and evaluate their lives." (Or, in my case, try to put the most humorous spin on it.)

It makes me think of a line from one of my favorite rom-coms "French Kiss" (before Meg Ryan's face began looking cartoon-ish.) She and Kevin Klein are walking through a city in France and she is saying that he needs to talk about his feelings. She says "a healthy person is someone who expresses what they are feeling inside. Express, not repress." To which Kevin Klein's character Luc replies "In that case, you must be one of the healthiest people in the world."

Not only does writing help you mentally, it can help your physical health, too. The study stated that writing can help patients heal more quickly because it helps them make sense of events and reduce distress. It even said that blogging may trigger dopamine releases similar to the effect of running. Cool, huh? So I don't know what did more for my health today - writing this blog or going on my jog this morning. (I'd say run, but at my pace it was really more of a jog.)

Now when I don't feeling like working up a sweat (or getting out of my pajamas), I'll just waddle over the the computer and blog away. Then I'll have gotten my exercise in for the day. Or at least improved my mental and physical being a bit. And trainers everywhere give a giant eye roll. Like we needed another excuse to not exercise!

So there, I have now successfully worked my mind and body, just by sitting here on my tukus typing away, And my fingers didn't even cramp!

Now if only a study would get released that said reading someones blog was the equivalent to 100 sit-ups then I could say you got just as much out of this blog post as I did ...

Maybe it'll be only 10 sit-ups, but still, it's better than nothing!

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Back to school blues?

When you are a stay-at-home mom (or whatever PC term is being used these days) there really is no such thing as summer vacation. All the days just seem to melt together.

So when my oldest started school a few years ago I began to see what is was like to have a few hours of one less kid in the house. Last year I got to see that magic times two when my son started preschool. And this year, well, this year all three of my adorable, sweet, very loud children will be attending school.

The little one will only be gone a few hours each morning, but still it is a couple hours all to myself. I might even be able to have a coherent thought, or finish a cup of coffee while it’s still hot. But let’s not get greedy, Sarah.

I envision trips to the grocery store where I don’t have to tell a child to put something down or come back here (at least not without getting some strange looks). I might actually get my hair cut – something I have only gotten around to doing once since we moved here a year ago (that one I’ll take the heat on, but still it will be nice). I even might get to write an entire article for this publication start to finish without being interrupted a dozen times.

So while many parents may dread the start of the school year and their kids going back to school – I must admit I won’t. I love my kids I really do, but after four months of the yelling and fighting and complaining and whining I won’t shed too many tears when they skip off to their classrooms. Luckily there has been plenty of smiling and hugs and laughter as well.

Plus I am happy to say they are all completely ready to go. My soon-to-be second grader has been asking when school was going to start since the end of July. My son is excited to be going the “big kid” school for pre-K and my youngest was so excited to start preschool that it was her main motivation to become potty trained. (Thank you Ms. Jen! We are now diaper free for the first time in seven and a half years!)

I know I should be sad and I will admit that there is a small part of me that is. No more babies at home. No more snuggling on the couch in our pajamas on a Tuesday or spontaneous stops at the bakery for a doughnut on a Thursday.  I know I will miss the tiny little hand grabbing mine as we walk across the parking lot.

But I know I am lucky that I DID get all that time with them and while I may hold back a tear as my older kids climb on that big yellow school bus and my youngest hangs her new backpack on her hook for the very first time, I realize they are growing up and this is just the next step in our lives.

That brings me to another realization – Mama needs a job!

I'd like to say I've been on vacation, but ...

So HOW many weeks has it been since I posted last? Two? Three? Did you even notice?

Well, it IS summer, so schedules have been off, we've been busy and ... aww, forget it, even I'M not buying that.

Truth is I've been lazy., Yup, I said it lazy. I'm not ashamed. (Well OK, I'm a little ashamed.) It's true though. I'd like to say I've been SO swamped with all the fun summer activities we've been scampering off to that I simply have not had time to sit down and blog (you can use blog as a verb right?). But no, I've been piddling around online watch YouTube clips, reading blogs and of course spending WAY to much time on Facebook.



Mother of the Year award - right here!

My kids have had loads to time to play outside and use their imaginations because I am not hauling them hither and yon in an effort to entertain them. Bikes and balls and sidewalk chalk are sufficient toys for a seven, four and three-year-old. (They seem to have a HUGE fascination with our watering cans, too.)

We have not just been cooped up at home though. Just now I asked my kids if they wanted to go to the park today or tomorrow. The girls picked today and of course the boy picked tomorrow. He started to whine about it then said "I'll be upset unless you let me sit in the back."

Did he just threaten me? You get an "A" for effort in manipulation, but it won't work on me. Scream a throw a fit it you must. I'm sure if it doesn't come from you it will from one of your sisters at SOME point today. It always does ...

I love 'em, but mercy me are they LOUD! And stubborn! And smart-mouthed. Annnnnnnd , they got all that from me, so I have no one to blame but myself. (See why I turn to YouTube? I NEED that hamster smiling through the wood chips so I don't lose my mind.)

The count down to school begins and thankfully all my kids are as excited about the first day as I am (I'm sure they are sick of ME too!). This year all my kiddos will be in school at least part time which will be strange but also good.

I'd like to say that means I'll be writing most posts for your amusement and criticism. I'd like to say that, but with all this free time I might start playing this Candy Crush Saga everyone keeps inviting me to play ...

Maybe I'll talk to you again around Halloween ...

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At least they are dressed right?

Should I feel bad that it is 11:30 in the morning and my girls are still in their pajamas? It is summer vacation after all and they are playing inside and everything. (I wouldn't knowingly let the kids play outside in their pjs.)

Plus they are all playing nicely in the basement together which let me tell you is RARE. So why upset things? Why rock the boat? Why upset the apple cart?

Why risk getting screamed at?

Because peace harmony and most of all quiet are very precious in this house and I would have to be some kind of masochist to knowing go into the lion's den and risk the wrath that is ...

You probably think that my kids are the worse human beings on the planet. That or I have extremely low tolerance for kid behavior. OK, I may be exaggerating a bit, but this summer has been eye opening for me.

And now I illustrate: I just brought all the kids up to eat lunch and a fight has broken off as to who the top half and who got the bottom half OF A BANANA! I am not joking either I just had to fib to my youngest and tell her she also go the top half  of the banana - even though it really went to my son. (Never mind that I have explained to them time and again that the top half and the bottom have LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME!)

Ahh summer ... I'm not really looking forward to school starting, but I'm not necessarily dreading it either ...

I know it's been awhile, but if you still like what I have to say (brief as it is today) click the Top Mommy Logo at the top and vote for me. Next time I write more - a bit distracted today ...
 

Drum roll please ...

I have been hesitant to write this post for awhile - didn't want to jinx myself.

But it has been almost three weeks now, so I think we are in the clear.

Drum roll please ......

I am proud to announce that the Gray family is officially ..... DIAPER FREE!!!!















(Thought I was gonna say something else for a second there didn't ya? Probably scared a couple of you - including my husband!)

Hey, being diaper free is no small thing. We have been buying and changing (and buying and changing) diapers and pull-ups for seven and a half years now. That's a long time. Sometimes I thought we were never going to get there. Many times in fact. While I was assured by every parent with older kids I met that "it will happen," and "they won't go to college wearing diapers," I wasn't so sure. There were brief moments of shear frustration that I thought MY child would be the first college freshman in Dora Pull-ups (provided they made some in her size).

I will freely admit that I am a bad potty-training parent. There are some parents I know (or have been told about) that are great at it. They can train their child like in 10 minutes or a half a day or something really obnoxious like that. Some parents who take little potty chairs wherever they go for their child. Some parents who let their child run around the house naked and go whenever wherever to figure out when and where to properly go.

I was not one of those parents. I am not condemning those parents - if those methods work for you that's great. I was not up for that. I was too forgetful/lazy/grossed out to do that. I really hate cleaning up potty messes so the idea of letting my child make them ON PURPOSE instead of accidentally was not appealing.

Plus I'd get frustrated and give up easily. I would try with my kid for a few days, but if they were being exceptionally stubborn (like sitting on the potty for 20 minutes with no result only to have them go on the floor five seconds after they stood up) I would end up putting them back in a diaper by the end of day two. I was just an inconsistent frustrated potty trainer. It's really a wonder they became potty-trained at all.

It didn't help that I have three extremely strong-will children either. (Cough, cough, I have no idea where they go THAT from cough, cough). The candy bribes didn't work, the "potty prizes" didn't work, even the threat of not being able to go to preschool (which my youngest wanted more than anything) was not enough to get her to go. She was gonna go when she was good and ready damnit and no parent, grandparent, teacher or pediatrician (hey, I'm not ashamed, I was grasping at straws here) was going to push her before she was ready.

But now we've cleared that hurdle. For days my husband and I would look at each other and ask "are we over the hump? Is she really potty-trained now?" We kept expecting a back slide, but so far none have come. I do expect an accident or two - that's just natural, but I think I can let out the deep breath I have been holding in for the past few weeks (and that is not just from being at the receiving end of a messy diaper).

So, no more diaper bags to pack. No more calculating the number of diapers I might need on any given outing based on duration away from the house (I should only need three, so I'll take six). No more panic when I realize I only have two wipes left and my kid is making that "funny face" under the slide at the playground.

Now it is replaced with the panic of "can we get to the bathroom in time?"  And thoughts like "She should only need two pairs of underwear for this trip - I'll pack six. Can she hold it until the rest stop or do we need to pull off on the freeway?"  

But I will take those worries over a messy diaper any day.

Sorry for all the potty talk, but if you wouldn't mind clicking on the Top Mommy Logo at the top and voting for me I promise my next post will be completely void of the word "potty." Thanks!