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Alternate Title: How I will be tortured by another PBS Kids show.
Ethan: Momomomomomomomom. We have to watch Dinosaur Train.
K: Mmmm. Okay, whatever.
Ethan: PLEASE, Mom!
K: Okay.
An hour later after watching the show he was on the computer, asking incessant questions about herbivores, carnivores and omnivores. For the next four hours. In his defense, how cool is it to be able to see a dinosaur's x-ray?
I hate to be a PBS commercial but this one is a big favorite in my house and now small children are speaking in minimums of three syllables. You can't knock that. Check your local listing and check it out.
My kids have gotten into this thing about wearing their helmets all the time. I would like to thank whatever cartoon character has peer-pressured them into doing it.
Thing is? They wear the helmets all the time. All the time. As in, "Mom, can I wear my bike helmet in the car?" No, this isn't Nascar. But then it would be a Racing Helmet anyway. Why don't you wear it on your scooter? Your Scooter Helmet, if you will.
It's actually working out right now because Nate could use the extra protection since his ability to walk without running into something or falling over something is still lacking. I was glad he was wearing the helmet today when he ran into the door. Wait. Maybe the helmet is adding to his depth perception problem. And it got a little crazy when they were wearing them on the neighbor's slide and you could actually hear them clanking inside the slide as they came down together. Derek said as long as they are BOTH wearing the helmets, it's no problem to go down the slide wearing them.
You may have noticed from the picture that Nate isn't actually wearing his bicycle helmet properly, what with the 4 inches of air between the chin strap and his chin. I guess we don't have anything to worry about because he doesn't ride a bike. And the stamps? I have no idea where they came from and I have no idea where I could ship him for two 39 cent stamps. Not that that idea ever crossed my mind
We are at that point in the summer where everyone has been together nonstop and we are going a little nutty. Everything feels annoying from everyone to everyone. Throw a little heat in the mix and it's pretty much a recipe for miserable living. This is the moment for intervention, or maybe not, whatever your personal solution might be to one of the biggest parenting struggles, sibling rivalry.
It's been pretty bad over here so I came up with a few strategies. Don't know if they will work for you but maybe it's worth a shot?
1. Give Them Something To Do. Many a conflict start out from being bored. Bothering your sister is something to do when you have run out of all other ideas. Sometimes a project can bring them back together, other times doing the same project in separate spaces is called for. Pull out small art kits and other special things might be in order.
2. Stop And Spend Time Together. The last thing I want to do is spend time with fighting children but it is often the very thing most needed. I find when I disengage and enter their world for just awhile it diffuses the angst floating around. Reading a book to them in bed, watching a movie together, playing a game of tag makes them forget they can't stand each other for a bit.
3. Do An Intervention Dance. Sometimes, doing very little or nothing at all is the answer. Adele Faber and Elaine Mazlish wrote the best book on sibling relationships called Siblings Without Rivalry. They talk about a strategy of how to help kids navigate their own conflicts by "stepping in so you can step out". Helping kids identify their feelings in the moment (stepping in) and then allowing kids to work out (stepping out) how they are going to deal with them.
There are times when children can navigate their own conflict but it might take longer than we prefer, other times they need us to set up the navigation just a bit. I find it helps to have the kids face each other at eye level, allow each other to say what is bothering them and then ask each child if they have any ideas for solutions. After a few times, kids can actually do this themselves. If no one is ready or willing, I let them go to their own spaces until they we can come together for another try. It can be a bit of a dance figuring out which is needed when.
4. Get Some Playdate Parties Going. Everyone needs a little time away once in awhile. Now is the time to call your best friend and ask to trade various kids for the day. Absence makes the heart grow fonder? fingers crossed.
5. Forget Fair. "It's not fair!" Have you heard this? Can I get an amen from the middle child in the house? Switch verbage to needs. Things are not always fair and never will be but we can do our best to meet each others needs. When we are deep into the "mine isn't as big, she got more, etc..", the need question helps loads. "Is there something you are worried about or need?" More about this in the book mentioned above.
6. Put Everyone In Time Out. Start with yourself. When things are bad and you are spent from screeching and yelling, hide for awhile. I used to lock myself in the bathroom for 10 minutes (making sure all was safe first if you have littles) or run errands when my husband got home at night. Even being in the car by myself in silence felt like a luxury. If I could re-group, I could help the kids too.
When we were kids, my mom banished us to our rooms to "work it out". We hated it and I don't know if it always worked but somewhere in that time we decided to gang up against her. We came out annoyed with her but somehow fine with each other.
7. Start An Acts of Kindness List. See how documenting kindness can change the vibe in your family.
Got any other good tips for sibling relationships? Please, please share them. This is definitely a topic where two heads are better than one.
First off, I would like to say that I get it. If you are thinking that I am unable to see the look of terror that is constantly on my youngest's face when I post pictures, I want you to know that I see it. Not only do I see it, I spend every single day protecting him from the savages that are his brothers. In the defense of his brothers, I seem to be unable to catch a shot of the baby when he is laughing in sheer delight and joy at some silly thing a brother is doing to capture his attention.
But back to our regularly scheduled topic of Friendship Day. Which was actually yesterday. I was talking to Ethan about friendships and we discussed his friend Harrison. Then I mentioned that his brother Nate was his friend too. He quickly corrected me to say that his brother is his BROTHER, not his friend. I laughed because he and his brother Nathan play as well together as he does with his friend Harrison. Lately I have discovered that everything is very clear-cut when you are four. You are either one thing or another. You feel one thing or another. There is no middle ground at four. So I am here to tell you that Nate is NOT HIS FRIEND but is his brother. I didn't even bother to ask about the little one.
Chances are the kid that makes you the most crazy will turn out to be the president of the United States, or at least this is what I keep telling myself. Spirited children are challenging, smart, funny, strong, tender and well sometimes, hard.
Here's what I've learned so far after many mistakes and triumphs:
Everybody knows but you. Well meaning friends always know what you should do to help the struggles you have with hard kids. Sometimes they are right and have a perspective you can't see because you are so "in it." Other times, not so much. It's okay to blow off or spend less time with the expert parents, grandparents, friends every now and then.
You are tired. This is an understatement. Parenting is hard and parenting harder kids is exhausting. I would even venture to say you need more breaks and time away than the average to be the parent you want and need to be to this child. Take the time, ask even if it feels hard to, you'll be glad you did.
The world expects children to be little adults. We are only 50 years from the "children should be seen and not heard" way of thinking. Our society is often unaware of behaviour that is purely developmental. The expectations are high and we often set our kids up for failure. Read up on your kid's development, it might help.
The great push. The truth is, these kids push us to be better parents. We have to aquire skills to make it work and to meet their needs. They can teach us loads about ourselves if we hang in there and keep trying.
So the comment section is open to your thoughts on extreme parenting, vent, send us tips, tell us your stories. Or at least weigh in telling us you are in the same boat, we'll throw you a life vest.
Something happened along the way and now I'm stuck in this crazy place. Three times in a row I promised my kids dessert if they ate all their dinner. Now they are saying crazy things like "can I have a popsicle?" After breakfast.
Um, no. You can't have a popsicle after breakfast. I realize it is summer but a mom has to have her limits. And a chocolate marshmallow ice cream in a waffle cone? Definitely not. Ok, maybe this once.
You are a slacker mom during the summer too, right?
You're eight years old today, and I have to say, being your mom over the last year has been one of the most delightful and hilarious experiences of my life. You discovered your sense of humor in a whole new way this year and entertained me for hours with some of the worst jokes I have ever, ever heard.
You faced some of your really big fears (riding a bike, learning how to swim, having a mom who travels) and you came out on the other side more sure of yourself, more confident and capable than I first imagined could be possible.
You also made big strides in sharing your emotions, solving problems, becoming more social and engaged with the people around you. There are at least ten people in your life who waited five years for you to talk to them, and still can't get over how happy they feel when you call them by name! You're a regular chatterbox.
Your sense of yourself and the world is truly remarkable to me. I love your openness, your honesty, your love of potty talk and inappropriate "boy" humor. You know how to be fair and how to be a friend, and you don't hide your feelings. For all these things and more, I am so delighted to have the privilege of watching you develop and grow.
Here's to more mother/son dates, bike rides, silly late night conversation and our shared love of cereal! I love you, buddy!
read more about your eight year old and raising boys
The weather has been a little crazy lately. We have had so much rain that when I hear Mr. Steve, one of my all-time-favorite people in the whole world, singing the Rain song, I contemplate throwing something at the television.
The kids have been cooped up inside too much. I know that we have reached this point when I walk into the living room and find the two of them on top of the armoire. The scary thing is that the box that was on top before was on the ground and I never heard it hit the ground. It's really heavy. I'm fairly certain they couldn't lower it to the ground themselves. I wish I had one of those motion sensors that would go off when the kids go higher than 3 feet in any given room.
This time I was feeding the baby in the family room and they were playing with cars on a track in the living room. In the old days (read three months ago), I always knew someone was getting into trouble by the silence. Now I have to pay attention because the safety in their talking is no longer effective.
They were having this long conversation about playing mom and dad and who was going to be forced to be "MOM" while the other person got the awesome role of dad. They were having the conversation as they were climbing. I happened to walk by as they were deep in discussion above my eye level. When they realized they were busted, the both began apologizing profusely. I just wanted them to get down and not get back up. I guess we'll have to add the living room furniture to the pile of chairs we recently moved to the basement. It's only a matter of time before they are giving each other a leg up.
Sun, please stay out so we can play in the much safer yard filled with ticks and mosquitoes.
I live in this fantasy world that the reason my children are so poorly behaved in public is because we are "old" parents. I tell myself and everyone else that will possibly listen that I'm sure I would be more strict if I had had kids in my 20's. I wouldn't be so tired. I wouldn't be so cranky. I would have more patience.
Guess what? Here it is. The honest to goodness truth. I imagine that I probably would have allowed my children to continuously throw each other over the side of the booth if I had them ten years ago.
Derek and I sat across from them on the 80 minute ferry ride. They did the best they could. We let them run around and around and around and around. Then we gave up because they have more energy in one pinky than we have in our entire bodies. So we sat inside at one of these booths and we watched in horror as they took turns shoving each other over the side of the booth. I looked around and no one in the Saturday crowd was even paying the slightest bit attention.
I was all geared up for my false apology for the behavior of my kids. My kids who were having the time of their lives. My kids who were doing no harm to anyone or anything.
And I just let them do it.
The kid only wants to eat junk. As a junk-food-junkie myself, I get it. As a mother, I just want to shove broccoli down his throat.
Ethan: I'd like marshmallows for dinner.
K: What?
Ethan: Marshmallows.
Nathan: Me want 'em too.
K: I don't think so.
Ethan: I think that is a GREAT dinner, Mom.
K: I don't think so. There is no nutritional value in marshmallows.
Ethan: But they are SO good.
Nathan: Good, Mama.
K: No.
Ethan: Please?
K: No.
Ten minutes later I caught him sneaking into the marshmallows. He and his brother had at least three a piece before I found them. I got mad. Really mad. I threw them in the trash and put them in time out.
Time out being a time-honored tradition of useless discipline. Or maybe I'm doing it wrong.
While they were in time out, I dug the marshmallows out of the trash. I squirted a little Dawn Dishwashing Detergent in the bag and threw it back in the trash. I covered them up with more trash. Sure enough, three hours later I heard a hacking in the kitchen.
K: What's wrong?
Ethan: These marshmallows taste TERRIBLE.
K: Did you take them out of the trash?
Ethan: Um, yes?
K: You dug them out of the trash. You ate garbage.
Ethan: I didn't eat garbage. I ate marshmallows.
K: They were in the garbage.
Ethan: Why would anyone throw good marshmallows in the garbage?
K: Because people were TAKING them when they weren't allowed.
Ethan: They tasted horrible like soap.
K: How do you know they tasted like soap?
Ethan: MOM. I know what SOAP tastes like.
I don't know what disturbs me more. That fact that he ate marshmallows out of the trash or the fact that he correctly identified the soap taste in his mouth. Either way, here's hoping he won't dig food out of the trash again.
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