It's not right to judge and some more questions

I am often guilty of being a pretty shitty mom.  I feed my kid mac and cheese that comes in a cardboard box (sometimes several times a week).  I allow her to wear makeup and lipstick (she's 4) and often get weird looks like I am a Toddlers in Tiara's mom.  I often don't have the energy to enforce things like manners and "no talking back" and so most of the time we spend together she is acting like a total bitch.  I even usually buy non-organic produce and feed it to her (please refrain from calling child protective services).  And yet despite all my shortcomings as a parent, she still seems to be smart, happy and well-mannered (at least in front of other people). 

Because of my secret knowledge of how I am just really lucky that my kid knows that there is a different kind of behavior for being in public than there is for home, I try to be pretty reluctant to judge.  I don't really think any worse of mothers who breast or bottle feed, or have a few drinks or take antidepressants during pregnancy, or work full time or choose to homeschool (although we all know that THOSE mothers should be locked up *wink*).  But sometimes there are mothers that you just want to kick in the vag because of their ability to overlook the completely OBVIOUS ways that they are contributing to their child's bad behavior.


Lila and I had the honor of being a flower girl and bridesmaid (I hope I don't have to tell you who the flower girl was because it would be really bizarre if it was me) at the wedding of one of my long-time friends. Lila's job was simply to prance down the aisle with a little boy who we will call "N".  Lila was not going to be a problem.  She follows direction well and is smart enough to understand what people are telling her to do. 

Not so with all children.  Before I even met him, I heard "cute" stories about him from his family at the bridal shower and from my friend.  Everyone thought it was "cute" when N purposely punched his Daddy in the nuts.  It's so adorable how he still talks like a baby and refuses to put words together into sentences, just like he did when he was 18 months old!  He's not ready for preschool yet because he's so "gifted" that he isn't interested in learning colors or shapes or counting, and there's no reason to push him. And isn't it just so grown up the way he demands what he wants and never takes "no" for an answer?  Maybe he'll be a CEO or a Diva when he grows up!  Let's just say that I wasn't expecting a victorian gentleman.

His behavior at the rehearsal dinner wasn't as bad as I had been warned to expect.  His mother held his hand and walked him through it a few times, and when the time came for he and Lila to practice alone, he simply took off running and then refused to stand anywhere near the groomsmen.  Not a big deal, since 3 year old boys tend to be overly rambunctious and it was getting close to dinner time.  But I did find it strange that his mother gave him one ring pop after another in an effort to get him to "settle down and pay attention."  And did I mention that this was about 30 minutes before the rehearsal DINNER?

We went over to a super causal restaurant/bar nearby for the rehearsal dinner.  As everyone was getting seated, I was chatting away with one of the other bridesmaids when I happened to look directly in front of me and saw something interesting.  N was licking Sweet N Low off the table.  At the restaurant.  First off, I will barely let my kid TOUCH restaurant tables if I can help it.  Because of this I immediately looked for his mother to let her know that somehow her kid had torn open a packet of aspertame and is licking it off the table, but when I realized that she was sitting next to him crumpling a little pink packet and then stroking his head my eyes nearly burst out of my head.  "He's been such a good boy today, I can't say no to him," she said warmly.

"SERIOUSLY?" I whispered to the other bridesmaid as motioned my eyes in their general direction.  She was as amazed as I was and told me she could not believe that this was okay.  I mean, it wasn't SUGAR, right?  It was only a disgusting cancer-causing artificial sweetner being tongued from a petri dish of a table in a bar/restaurant (and who are we kidding?  The word "Tavern" is in the name of this place - it was a BAR that also serves food) by a 3 year old, so no issue. 

Although pretty much everyone else in the wedding party stared in wonderment at this kid making out with the pile of sweetner on the (bar room) table, the mother and her immediate family seemed completely oblivious to fact that this might be somewhat questionable.  And I really think that this would not be blog worthy if I hadn't heard the ongoing conversation she was having. 

She was telling Ben how he is such a delightful kid, most of the time.  She talked about how "strong willed" (code for completely out of control) and "free spirited" (does not care if it's okay) he is, all the while while telling him how he seems to want to destroy everything he gets his hands on and has caused quite a huge amount of property damage by crushing, stepping on, and in every way decimating anything that is of any value.  Of course, then she went on to say that he "doesn't mean it" and there's "no point in punishing him for it because he's just being a boy."


SERIOUSLY?  You really don't think that some of this might have to do with the fact that you have no ability to teach this kid limits or tell him that something is not okay?  Because I am pretty sure that there is no way a kid will suddenly decide that he doesn't want to set things on fire if someone doesn't let him know that FIRE WILL KILL YOU.  I'm just saying.  Breaking things is fun.  Being wild and insane is fun.  Licking sugar off a (did I mention it was a bar?) table is only a kid's version of body shots.  So why would a kid EVER potentially turn into an adult who does not want to smash and burn things or eat chocolate pudding of bathroom floors on a daily basis (which is the only logical conclusion to the sweetner incident).

I realize that I sound like one of those preachy asshole judging moms who acts disgusted at the idea of not breastfeeding until high school, but I want to murder people who are oblivious to their influence as parents or simply choose to allow to let their kids act poorly because of whatever wacked-out child-rearing philosophy they read about in the trendy parenting book of the month.

Kids definitely need room to be themselves.  They need to know it's okay when they screw up, but that they will be guided to behave properly.  They need to know that there is a world outside their homes where certain rules apply and the best way to teach them those rules is to put in the effort to show them.  As much as your kid may protest and tell you they don't want to be your friend anymore, they will know that you love them because you gave them a sense of right and wrong that applies in most situations where contrary to the wishes of Mama, people will have some basic expectations of them.

Ok.  My rant is over.
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Now on to Sunday Stealing:

Sunday Stealing: The 99'er Meme: Final Part

Cheers to all of us thieves!

76) In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?
Seperate apartments?

77) How did/could someone win your heart?
Leave me alone.  That seems to make me like you more.

78) In your world, what brings on more creativity?
booze

79) What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?
To start my blog *wink*

80) Why did you break up with your last ex?
Wasn't this question asked last week?  I moved to AZ.

81) What would you want to be written on your tombstone?
I saw one that said "I Told You I Was Sick".  I'm a bit of a hypochondriac.

82) What is your favorite word?
FUCK. It isn't but I sure say it a lot.

83) Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word: delusional.
My entire life?

84) What is a saying you use a lot?
Shut it.

85) Are you watching Idol this season? If yes, how do you like it?
No.  I don't even have a smart assed comment for that because I am so offended.

86) Were you surprised that House got canceled?
Ok.  I am done with the TV questions.  Doesn't anyone read anymore?

87) What is your current desktop picture?

88) If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?
Any of the current Republican Nominees.  Hopefully during a photo op.

89) What would be a question where you'd not tell the truth?
Is there anything you could give a shit less about?

90) One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by WEEPING ANGELS. The Weeping Angles aren't really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What would you do?
Go to the emergency room to find out if someone put LSD in my drink.

91) You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?
I would be SUPER MOM.

92) You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?
*wink* it would be dirty.

93) You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?
My recurrent bouts of Major Depressive Episodes.  So that would be about the last 30 or so years.

94) You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. (let's say that you are both single and available) Who might it be?
Marky Mark while he was with the Funky Bunch.  Or 65 Comeback Special Elvis.

95) You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?
To the town in Italy where my Grandfather came from.

96) Do you have any relatives or friends in jail?
Hahahaha.  Not anymore, but in my day I received a good amount of prison pictures in the mail.

97) Who's winning the U.S. Republican presidential nomination? Why?
Mittens is the safest bet and the only one who is moderate enough to pick up non-affiliated voters.  But it doesn't matter because they're all apeshit crazy.

98) Who's winning the next U.S. Presidential election?
It doesn't matter. Seriously. The system is so broken that no matter who wins it will be more of the same bullshit.

99) If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?
Shut the fuck up and let me take my nap.

They need to knock this shit off...Seriously.

There is a really good reason that I try to only let my kid watch PBS cartoons.  But every now and then, a different channel gets put on and the commercials make me want to stab my eyes out. 

First it was the Pillow Pets, whose annoying and hypnotizing commercials turned my kid into a total animal.  You can read that post here.

Then about a month ago, evil had a new name and it was the Happy Napper. 

Well, thanks to Grandma, Lila got her stupid ladybug Happy Napper and can't actually nap on it because a) she has not napped since she was 2, and b) because when you stuff the ladybug into her little house the resulting pillow is lumpy and hard as a rock. 

This morning SOMEONE (Daddy) put on some cartoons for Lila and as soon as the Doodlebops (which are their own form of torture for me) was over, I looked up from my crap-induced stupor and realized Lila basically floating mesmerized toward the television. 

There is a new horror in town:

Now, if I am honest, these things are kind of cute.  The puppy (shown above) has ears that move up and down when you step in the slippers. And the unicorn appears to go to sleep when you aren't wearing them. 

As far as I can tell, they don't make any noise, although I have not researched them thouroughly enough to tell for sure, and so I am not totally and completely opposed to these (although if there is even the mildest snort, giggle or music that comes out of them I will change my tune).  But the commercial will make you want to vomit.  And after seeing it LITERALLY one time, Lila has been singing it all morning. 

The commercial told Lila that "Stompeez are more than just slippers...they're slippers with PERSONALITY!...They'll make you LAUGH!  They'll make you SMILE!"  all the while in the background the kids are screaming "WE WANT THEM!!!"

Luckily for you, I cannot find a link to the video, but if you go to the actual Stompeez website, you will see what we're dealing with here. 

Mind-numbing website complete with song.

When the commercial was over, Lila suddenly became re-animated as if a hypnotist just snapped his fingers and looked at me dead in the face and said, "Mommy, they're not just slippers.  THEY'RE STOMPEEZ!  AND I NEED TO HAVE THEM."

It is no use trying to explain to a 4 year old that she NEEDS food, water and shelter and that she simply WANTS the ridiculous slippers because it will just re-inforce how much she NEEDS them and she will probably end up convincing me otherwise.

I am going to try to explain to my mother that she IS NOT to buy them for her under any circumstances and that if she is lucky, she MAY get them for Christmas but I know it will be no use.  Grandmas can always be depended on to buy more of the useless crap that kids seem to love.

Parenting Fail?

Am I a terrible mom?  I try to stay on top of things.  I want my kid to eat well and get enough sleep and say please and thank you.  I want her to be smart and capable and independent and well-behaved.  And so far I have failed at all but the part about her being smart (assed) and independednt (3 going on 13). 

In trying to come to terms with just how to handle this problem of Lila being the sassiest little bitch on earth (yeah, I said it), the only thing I can come up with is that I am just too fucking tired to discipline her EVERY SINGLE TIME (which would literally be about 3 times per minute) that she does something that pisses me off. 

My kid yells at me.  She throws things and she refuses to eat.  Then she throws a huge asshole fit about the fact that she doesn't get any snacks because she refused to eat what I put in front of her (No, I don't give in and she still does not GET it). She refuses to poop on the toilet still and when I refused to buy any more pull ups, she held it for 4 days until it was so painful for her (even with the laxative) that she will probably never want to shit on the toilet again (thanks to the doctor for that award-winning advice).  She acts like an animal when we go to a store.  She manipulates me by crying and telling me she hates me (remind you, she is not a teenager - she's 3). 

In between the 3 minute hugs and the 2 and a half moments of happiness is all this SHIT.

I am at my wits end.  And all I can do is blog about it. 

Fucking kid.

What can Super Nanny do for you?

You know those friends that you know online and think you would be best friends with in real life but you've never actually met?  Well, Lara is one of those friends. 

She is child-free but as you will see has some serious issues with Super Nanny and small children.  I begged her to write me a post for my blog and I LOVED this and laughed hysterically and I hope you will to.

***NOTE:  In her original writing, she referred to the child many times as "it".  I took the liberty of changing that to "he" or "she" randomly even though it was funnier the other way because it reminded me too much of having a malfunctioning robot.

So here it is:

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I don't have kids. I hardly see them. I go to bed at 5am. I am just waking up when you are picking them up from school. Let that sink in for a minute….

My diet is mostly bourbon, I play guitar six hours a day, and get angry when I can’t find my slutty-shoes.

I'm not bragging, though. My life kinda sucks. I found out in my late 20's that I have an auto-immune disorder (it’s genetic, not Super-AIDS). The label on my meds tells me that it "may cause flipper-limbs in fetal mice". I might be able to breed, but it seems risky and mean-spirited given the information I have. Mostly, I am just incredibly poor. I am like Liz Lemon without the high profile tv job. Or any job. For better or worse, the baby-ship has sailed. So why should you listen to me?

Because I am fucking addicted to Super Nanny.

As with everything I do, my tv habits are compulsive. It started with Ghost Hunters. (I'm reassured when they don't find ghosts. It makes me feel safe in basements.) Then came Destination Truth and Paranormal State (are they really still in college?). Having run out of para-normal reality TV, I started watching mega-normal reality TV, mainly Biggest Loser.

Then I panicked. I ran out of shitty reality shows to watch. I grudgingly followed Hulu's recommendation to watch Super Nanny.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

It was like mother-fucking Shark Week! World's Deadliest Trainwrecks! Alligator vs. Everything! The amount of shrieking, vomiting, and pool-table punching was worse than every episode of Jersey Shore combined. And these are average families with average toddlers!

I guess I'm not around kids enough to realize that this is normal, typical, kid behavior. My ovaries pretty much shriveled up and died after a half-episode.

Here's what I've incredulously learned from Super Nanny:

1. Kids are advanced manipulators by age 3. "I'll apologize for punching you in exchange for snacks." It's like Lindsay Lohan saying she'll leave jail in exchange for drugs. For real?

2. Your kid wants to control your house. Who doesn't love democracy? Well, three-year-olds, that’s who. The would-be tyrant is 3 feet tall and does not understand mechanics, fire, traffic, or nutrition, and can’t read. I would say he does not get an equal vote.

3. Kids are not idiots. While they lack information about mechanics and traffic, they are still very smart. Too smart…and sneaky. "This food is so yucky I puked. I’m sick" Really? The hidden camera shows the little shit stealing Otter Pops a half hour later. He's not sick. He's not a picky eater. He's not suffering from pre-school anorexia. He knows he can help himself to the freezer as soon as your back is turned, so he makes a show out of barfing casserole!

4. Some parents are unbelievably ghetto. One mom told her kid he "had to go into the mall because kidnappers were waiting in the parking lot." Remember points 1 through 3? They're not dumb; they know when you are lying. This just makes them lose respect and abuse you even more. Acting ghetto just proves they're smarter than you. Now they have a superiority complex!

5. Most parents want their kids to be happy. At all times. It seems obvious since I don't have any heart-strings to pull, no fondness for the patter of little feet; that I am not your kid's friend. I am an adult, and if I am out jogging and I see your kids fucking around on a thinly frozen lake, I will yell at them and tell them to knock that shit off. And then I will continue on, confident I did the right thing. I will be like "I kept that little jerk from drowning to an icy death. He should thank me if he lives to adulthood." I will not hug them or wonder if their feelings got hurt, or if they hate me. But you like your kid. You LOVE your kid. You will always remember your kid as a confused 1 year old in a bunny costume. You get sad when you have to set boundaries; who has the heart to yell at someone in a bunny costume?

This bitch will tell you what the fuck is what.

If there is one thing that anyone can learn from 22 hours of Super Nanny, it's this:

Don't fear discipline. You are not your kid's friend. You are an educator and protector. You have the wisdom to know that pouring ketchup on yourself and shitting your pants at Denny's is not the path to a successful life.

Next time your kid is sadly howling and spitting insults at you, put them in timeout and tune that shit out, and don't feel sad. I know she was a cuddly baby in a cute bear onesie just a few months ago, but right now she is an asshole who is being punished for kicking the kitty in the face.

And when they start acting up, think of them as mini-19 year olds and ask yourself if you'd accept this shit from your college roommate. Because a). your kid will soon be someone's college roommate, and b). they'll still be telling housemates that their cooking is gross and sobbing uncontrollably whilst demanding to sleep in their beds. We all know that guy.

And learn how to do the proper Super Nanny Timeout. I hear that shit is golden.

Lara watches so much reality TV because she stays up late crafting. She has a gorgeous Etsy site called SPIXI  filled with fantastic little items at unreasonably great prices.  Use coupon code MOTHERHOODSUCKS at check-out for 20% off your order.

A confession. Then a small victory. I think.

I have posted about a lot of the stupid ways that motherhood makes me hate life, but this is one that I feel somewhat ashamed of.  Because I know better. Not that it's been reason enough for me to knock this shit off until now. 

Here's my confession.  I lay down every night with my kid to make her go to sleep.  This is insane, I know.  But wait until I tell you how this evolved, because my kid NEVER slept in our bed.  It's ridiculous and even more insane. 

When Lila was an infant, she was evil and colicky (or just pure evil, if I remember correctly).  There were a lot of nights where I would get up so often that I would finally just bring a pillow and lie on her floor so that I didn't have to walk as far.  I never brought her into our bed because her room had great dark curtains that blocked out the light and in the summer in AZ the sun comes up at like 4:30 in the morning and there was NO WAY I was starting my day that early.  So she needed to be in her room so that she would sleep until a still absurd 6am.  To bring her into my bed just meant I would have to get up again to move her back and I am sure that would have been the ONE NIGHT where she slept for 8 hours straight and I would have had to get up anyways. 

I also rocked her to bed every night for a long time.  Too long by most standards. We tried the cry-it-out method and learned that the kid could literally cry for 3 to 4 hours easily.  For at least 3 nights in a row (and this was when I still gave her a bottle at bedtime).  All the "experts" swore that they wouldn't cry for more than an hour or two AT THE MOST and that they would finally tire themselves out and that by the third night the crying would substantially decrease.  Not so much with this one.  Our kid had super-human stamina.  She would scream and scream and scream and scream.  She was able to out-cry our patience and I am sure would have cried until morning had we not intervened around the 3 and a half hour mark.  Even after crying for 3 hours, half the time she still refused to go to sleep.  And so after the fourth night of traumatizing our kid by allowing her to cry for longer than she would likely even sleep, we decided that we just wouldn't do that method.  But I decided that I would not rock her to sleep anymore.  I started to put her into her bed but stayed in the room with her.

At first I simply sat in the rocking chair.  I would talk to her a little and sing to her a little and she would eventually doze off.  But honestly, it wasn't very comfortable and I began bringing my own pillow in and laying on the floor next to her crib.  Ben did it on his nights too.  It was just how we got our kid to sleep. 

When Lila got her big girl bed I really thought that it would come with a "big girl" attitude and that when I told her I was not going to sleep in there with her that she would somehow be all "mature" about it (I know how stupid that sounds...she was 2).  But instead she thought it was great because I could just get into bed with her.

(There's more to this story.  You can read the post from back then here)

First off, if you have ever seen a toddler bed, you know how stupid this was.  Here I am, a grown woman, a little overweight, in a bed that is about 4 feet by 2 and a half feet.  Here is a helpful illustration as to how that looked for those of you with poor imaginations:


I looked like this in her bed, but not as cute.

I would lie there with my whole ass hanging off the side of the bed and we would do our story that way and talk for a few minutes and then I would tell her she needs to be very still and shut her eyes and go to sleep.  About half the time, she would be tired enough to do this.  But the other half of the time I would have to tell her repeatedly and get pissed off because I had other things to do (Lost was on back then). This was also when we got rid of the bottle and tToo complicate the issue, there was an infant sleeping in the bedroom directly below Lila's.  And since HIS parents would tend to him as soon as he cried so as not to wake Lila, I couldn't be the asshole who lets her kid scream uncontrollably all night.

When we moved into our new house last October, Lila was upgraded to a twin bed.  Mostly because she was constantly flinging herself out of the toddler bed since it was nowhere near big enough to accomodate the amount of interpretive-dance style movements she seems to enjoy acting out when she's dreaming. 

It also meant that I could now COMFORTABLY do bed time and lay there and talk with her.  I thought that I would LOVE doing bedtime now because we could talk in the dark and cuddle and tell secrets.  And that truly is what it's like some nights  - for the first 15 or so minutes.  But it always seems to degenerate into me telling her it's time to be quiet and close her eyes, and her "remembering" that she needs to get a different pillow or that she didn't have a drink of water or that she suddenly had to take a crap.  And I always yell at her and say the word "NOW!" a lot. 

And she HATES going to sleep.  She fights and fights and fights it.  She will start to doze and suddenly shoot up straight to tell me "something really really important that she forgot today" but now she can't remember.  And as soon as I make her lie back down and cover her up, I try to tell her that we can talk about it tomorrow but I am interrupted by snoring because she fell asleep in the 6 seconds it took to get her to put her head back onto the pillow. 

Every night now, I find that I am yelling at her and threatening to go downstairs.  And this is shitty.  Every night I have to tell her to be still, be quiet, close her eyes, over and over and over.  And I don't want to be this parent.  It's super, overly control-freakish to me.  It feels mean for me to tell her she isn't allowed to move again or "I am going to leave her alone".  I try to explain that if I go downstairs she can stay awake as long as she wants as long as she stays in her bed but she swears she's going to be quiet.  Then about a minute later she starts singing some song or talking to her stuffed cat. 

When I do leave the room she cries like I am leaving forever.  And I usually come back.  I will come back because I think that she BELIEVES I am abandoning her.

The last couple of weeks with her have been especially challenging.  I am having a pretty bad relapse into depression regardless of the fact that I am medicated and she has been sick on and off and is totally acting up.  I blame my lack of attention and short temper for her behavior and feel guilty that I am not being the best mother I can be and I think I project a lot of my childhood insecurities onto her (like the abandonong thing above). 

And then today, I read a post by a fellow blogger (Pampers and Pinot) that suddenly made me understand WHY I feel so frustrated with the way she's acting lately.  She's manipulating me. 

Any of you who have known a kid from the time they started talking will probably know that they are expert manipulators.  I am pretty sure that I could send my kid to the CIA and they could learn some fantastic new tactics for emotionally destroying the detainees at Gitmo.  She knows EXACTLY the right buttons to push.  And although I am SURE she really hates it when I yell and scream, I also know that somehow she is purposely eliciting that exact reaction from me.  Because when I don't do it, she gets confused and has to change tactics.

A friend recommended I watch Supernanny (which I hate) and I was all negative about that suggestion at first.  Until I remembered some of the dumb parents I have seen on that show and realized how many times that womansays things like  (start cockney accent here) "Yo' chi-old is run-ning this house!  You'oo ahhh the pah-rents."

My kid is sadly mistaken to believe that she wears the pants in this family.  And I do realize that it is perfectly normal for them to try to do this.  But I will be damned if I am going to raise a kid who is a total asshole! 

So today I sat her little ass down, and said, "Mommy is going to make a deal with you.  From now on, if you are good, I will not yell at you.  And if you are bad, I will not yell at you, but I will put you in the corner for a time out.  And I am only going to warn you once.  Do you understand me?"  She nodded. 

I knew that I would need to remind her throughout the day but I was determined not to lose my cool today.

She was actually pretty good.  There were about 3 different times where I had to say, "you remember the deal, don't you?  Are you being good?" and that made her behave. 

And then at lunchtime when she threw a fit because I asked her if she wanted chicken soup and she said yes, but then changed her mind as soon as the bowl was put in front of her, I reminded her of our deal.  She crossed her arms and refused to eat and DEMANDED macaroni and cheese.  So I got down on her level and insisted she look at me.  And I said, "you are not getting macaroni and cheese...LISTEN TO ME...stop being a brat and eat your lunch or you will go in the corner for a time out."  She stomped her feet telling me she hated chicken soup.  So I picked her up and stuck her in the corner. 

She refused to stand up so I sat her on the floor.  I told her I was setting the timer for 3 minutes and she continued to scream as I walked away.  I told her that she could come out when she heard the beep, and that she should stop screaming so she didn't miss it.  She kept screaming.

She did this horrible hyperventalating-type cry that is usually reserved for real-true awful things (like when balloon pops or something) and as I scrubbed the toilet (yes, this is what I did to distract myself so that I didn't go back to get her) I realized that she has learned that it's okay to be an asshole to me.  Further, she has learned (partially from my mother never letting her cry even slightly without giving in) that the more she wants something, the bigger the dramatics.  

When the timer went off, I went over to her, crouched down and asked if she was ready to eat her lunch yet.  She said she really wasn't hungry and I told her that she only needs to eat 5 spoonfuls.  I told her that if she didn't want to do this, she could simply stay in the corner until she was ready.  Crying and sobbing she reached up to hug me (this is the hardest part for me because I DO NOT ever want her to think I am withholding affection) but I insisted that she eat her lunch.  She said ok and I asked her to say sorry for yelling at me.  She did.  Then I hugged her.  I brought her to her seat and she kept crying and wanted me to hold her (this really bothers me because I cannot tell if she is playing me or if she really desperately wants me to just love her).   I sat down with her and told her I am not mad at her, but that it is not acceptable for her to throw fits about what I make her for lunch.  EVER.   She ate exactly 5 spoonfuls.

She was good for the rest of the day.  Until bedtime.  There is no good way to do a time out at bedtime.  Bedtime IS the time out.  I am not going to get her OUT of bed to teach her a lesson so this one is more complicated.

I intended to start the "you're going to sleep on your own" thing on Friday so that she would have the weekend and then Monday night to figure out how to not be up all night.  I was planning to stay there with her tonight.  We did our regular bedtime routine and talked for a few minutes, then I told her it was time to be quiet now.

For about 4 minutes she was good.  Then she started the fidgeting.  Fingers, hands, rubbing the wall, making noises with her mouth.  I told her that I was only going to tell her one time that she needed to be still, OR she could stay awake for a while and I would just go downstairs. Not a big deal. She didn't want me to leave.  I told her that I do not want to have to yell at her, and that it is time for her to go to sleep.  I told her that she needed to be quiet with her eyes closed and that if I had to tell her again, I would simply get up because she is can stay awake without me there, but must go to sleep if I am there.  She kept "remembering" things that she needed to tell me. 

I told her once that we will talk in the morning.  She kept going.  So rather than yell at her, I got up and walked out.  It was heart-wrenching.  She kept begging me, "Mommy please come back.  I'll be a good girl.  I won't move at all!"  And I felt SOOOOO fucking guilty, not so much for walking out but for setting up this dynamic in the first place.  I DON'T WANT HER TO THINK SHE'S BAD BECAUSE SHE CAN'T FALL RIGHT TO SLEEP!  I sometimes don't fall asleep that easily.  And here I have created this awful situation where I lay in bed with her (to provide love and security) only to yell at her and make her think she's being bad when she has trouble doing something that everyone struggles with sometimes. 

This made me feel like a failure. 

I went to her room and sat on her bed and explained to her how it isn't good for her or for me for me to yell at her to go to sleep.  And since she is really big now, she can learn to sleep like big kids do, without their parents yelling at them to go to sleep all the time.  I told her that I would leave her door open and we would be right downstairs.  I told her I would come back in thirty minutes (I told her what numbers the clock would say) and check on her.  Then I kissed her and walked out. 

She cried for about 5 minutes, then stopped.  I assumed she got up to play but when I went up (as promised) she was fast asleep. 

So now tomorrow I will make a big deal about how proud I am of her and we will try this again tomorrow night, but without the option of me sleeping with her.  She has school the next morning so the stakes are higher but I am determined to stop this now.  Because I seriously cannot allow her to control my emotions or my evenings like this forever. 

(In the interest of whatever laws apply, I stole that cat pic from the Cheezburger site.  It isn't actually mine.)

Because Kids Can Be Assholes Too.

I really enjoy my days off.  Thoroughly.  I like sitting at home.  I like watching TV.  I like spending quiet peaceful time doing nothing and maybe even taking a shower.  But my one weekday each week that I don't work I spend with Lila. And in order to keep from losing my mind, I try to find something to do that she will enjoy that doesn't involve me sitting on the couch with the inter-webs open all day.

Lila loves books and the library and she knows everyone who works at the small branch library near our house so she is always thrilled when I tell her we are going to go to story time.  Yesterday, when I asked her if she wanted to go, she was all thrilled and excited and sang a song about how she was going to pick out some books and hang out with Mrs. Barbara, the story time librarian.  I told her what time it started and what time I would be getting her dressed.  I gave her a five minute warning so that she would be "finished" playing. 

About 30 minutes before the start of story time I called upstairs to her.  "Lila, it's time to come on down so we can get ready to go."  I got no answer.  So I went upstairs.  She was in her room playing with her dollhouse and I called her name.  She ignored me.  So I turned around and said, "well, we don't HAVE to go to story time.  We can stay here and you can play if you want to." 

It seemed innocent enough but she lost her mind at this.  First she started whining.  When I told her to stop whining she started to scream and throw a fit.  I talked calmly to her explaining that story time is starting at 10 am whether we are there or not, so if we want to go we have to get ready to go NOW.  She started her wild flailing around screaming "I DON'T WANT TO GET READY RIGHT NOW!" to which I simply said, "Fine, Lila.  You can stay here and throw a fit then.  Let me know when you're done."  She was kicking ans screaming and throwing herself on the floor.  Then she hit her head on her dresser and started crying, so I went back in and attempted to calm her down.  We talked again, and again I explained that if she wants to go to story time she needed to get dressed and we had to get going.  I explained that this was her CHOICE to either stay and play OR get ready and go to story time.  She simply said, "NO".  At least three times, I attempted to calm her down and explain the situation, but each time I only got more attitude and sass. 

She was getting more and more upset and I was getting more and more frustrated.  I realized that the best thing to do was to put her in her room, close the door and walk away.  So I did.  She came out screaming (tantrum-ing) and I told her to get her ass back into her room because I was getting angry, but she started screaming, "I WANT TO GO TO STORY TIME NOW!!!" over and over and over. 

"That little asshole," I thought.  "I'm taking HER somewhere where SHE wants going to have fun.  What the hell am I fighting with her for?  She totally doesn't understand that this is something I couldn't care less about.  And yet, she is creating this fucking scene and I am falling for it.  And I am a terrible parent because I have no idea how to handle the situation and show her that I am the mother and I am only doing this FOR HER..."

So I lost it.  I started yelling at her that she was being a total brat and there was no way I was taking her to story time now that she was behaving so badly.  She cried and cried and cried and screamed and threw a fit, and somehow all of this seemed too much for me so I went into my bedroom, slammed the door, and the floodgates opened and I found myself sobbing.  "We're not fucking going and it's NOT my fault," I cried to myself.  Somehow I felt guilty that I couldn't control her and keep it together and just make it possible to get her dressed to take her to story time. 

After a few minutes, I heard my door creak open.  I hadn't noticed that she had stopped crying and was listening to me.  She crept in and I tried to dry my face.  But she knew.  I turned to look at her and saw her panic stricken and scared and then that expression changed and she said, "you're making me cry..." and she started crying and hugging me. 

So in the aftermath, I explained to her that from this point on, if we are going to do something fun and she throws a fit and doesn't listen, we simply will not do it.  But I swear, spanking or slapping would probably work better.  When I was a kid, if I ever acted like that, I would have been slapped in the mouth and then I would have knocked that shit off after a minute or two and we could get the hell on with our plans.  Why is parenting such bullshit nowadays?  And why do I feel it's necessary to take her anywhere if she is such an asshole about it?

More of that Christmas Spirit

One of my co-workers sat at her desk staring at the computer screen as if she was about to throw up.  When I asked her what the deal was, she told me that she'd just spent $500 on a computer for her grown son when she'd meant to spend $300 and he totally didn't deserve it because he is an asshole.  She said that he was rude to her the other day and she actually told him at that point that there was no way she was going to cough up the money for the $300 computer that he wanted and yet, here she was, spending money that she really shouldn't be spending on an ingrate when she could be using that money to do something useful like pay bills.

I did the same thing over the weekend.  Although completely determined a few weeks ago to show Lila that Christmas IS NOT about how many gifts you get, I managed to spend my entire (and I literally mean down to the nearest dollar) paycheck on toys, clothes, candy, games and stocking stuffers in a matter of 2 days.  I have no cash left to live on this week and had to beg her father to fill up my gas tank but dammit, Lila will have fucking magic on Christmas morning, at least for the 15 minutes it takes to tear the paper off all the boxes.

WHY do we mothers do this kind of thing all the time? 

I realize that Lila has no need for this crap!  I also realize that the majority of it will NEVER be played with after it's first time out of the package.  I realize that I am going to be behind on my bills and miserable without my morning coffee run at work for the next two weeks.  I realize that we do not HAVE that kind of money to spend on stupid toys and that since she is 3 she would not know whether Santa left 10 boxes or 25 boxes on Christmas morning.

And yet, there is this profound push by us mothers to get our kids more and better stuff.  To make them happier and more fulfilled at least once a year by buying Christmas gifts.  In a very rational way, WE ALL KNOW that this is insane and that this stuff makes them nothing if not more spoiled but we do it anyway.  Even when we can't afford to pay the cable and Internet and it gets turned off and we decide to live without it for a couple of months rather than to have to deprive our children of that extra toy or gadget (speaking from actual current personal experience).  It's fucking insanity. 

And don't even get me started about the stupid sense of obligation that I am fighting with to not buy dumb little token gifts for everyone I come into contact with on a daily basis.  Do I need to get a gift for Lila's teacher?  My co-workers?  My boss (-es.  I have 2)?  How about the guy at the parking garage that I see every day?  My mailman?  My neighbors?  Aunts, Uncles, cousins, grandparents, in-laws?  Isn't that what the entire point of the now 3 month, drawn-out holiday season all about?  Aren't I supposed to give and give and give to everyone but myself?  Don't I need to shop myself into a coma and then have the energy to invite all these people over for a perfect holiday feast so we can sit around a fire roasting chestnuts and singing carols?

At least, this is what the stupid idealization of Christmas says.  My kids should get everything they want and I should buy buy buy and no one should feel left out or neglected and I should be cheerful about it and sing and hum the whole time because, you know, 'TIS THE SEASON!!!!

I am going to commit to myself right now and ask that Lila's father hold me to this.  Next year, I will set a budget and that is it.   And it will be a small budget.  Maybe $200.  There will be hand-made gifts, so I will need to start planning around Halloween and I will not fight the urge to NOT indulge every wish my kid has, especially since as she gets bigger, the wishes will too.

Oh sweet Baby Jesus, there in the manger in my scraggly nativity scene, please give me the strength to not stress myself out like this ever again.

TO THE ASSHOLES WHO MAKE AND MARKET PILLOW PETS:

First off, let me say thanks. My kid has found a little security object that helps her when she wakes up in the middle of the night so I don't have to get out of bed 42 times in the dark. She truly loves your product and it makes me happy she has it.Now the REAL reason I am writing this:


I BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE AND YOUR ADVERTISEMENTS DURING EVERY CHILDREN'S TELEVISION SHOW ARE PURE EVIL.

Lila saw a commercial for Pillow Pets about 3 months ago and screamed like...well...like a little girl. She desperately wanted the ladybug and would fall all over me begging for it every time she thought about it (which was more or less constantly). Luckily, they were one of those things you had to call a toll free number to get so I could explain that that was the number to call Santa to tell him you wanted it for Christmas. It's impossible to get one before then.

Then you assholes put them in every store on the planet. I found this out when my mother (who literally CANNOT say no to Lila when she cries) brought Lila home with a bumble bee that she saw at Wal-Mart. Lila was ecstatic that Wal-Mart had them at all and said that she would gladly wait for Santa to bring her the ladybug because Wal-Mart doesn't sell them. Lila was genuinely happy to have this item and she thanked her Grandma over and over and over. I actually, for once felt that maybe this was a good thing. As much as I hate the idea of her being spoiled, this one particular item was not like the others. She was still thrilled with it after 4 hours unlike every other toy she sees on TV, which usually lose it's luster as soon as it comes out of the box.

Three days later, Lila and I are walking through the Band-Aid aisle at the drug store, and lo and behold! There is a big cardboard display FILLED with Pillow Pets. Why is the drug store selling a $20 fad-ish kids item next to the hemorrhoidal ointment and antacid tablets? Lila screamed, grabbed all 4 ladybugs and threw herself on the floor and rolled around on them. Embarrassed because my kid looked like she was making fun of people with seizure disorders, I grabbed her up and told her we had to get out of the store before it started to rain (one of many lame excuses I use to get her to move it).
"THEY HAVE MY LADYBUGS!!!!" Lila was squealing and stuffing her face into it. "Mommy doesn't have the money for that right now (and I didn't. I brought a $10 bill with me into the store). The tears were worse than I ever would have imagined. She cried for almost an hour. We got home and I showed her the bumble bee and although she hugged it, it did little to console her. After calling my mother about this dilemma, my mother told me to tell Lila there would be one waiting for her at Grandma's house tomorrow.

This infuriated me but at least it wasn't ME giving in.

She got her ladybug and all was well. She slept with both of them and insisted on taking them everywhere with her (yes, both of them).

Then, the following weekend, we were in Target to get some blinds for our new house. We turned down the wide aisle to the housewares and immediately Lila started crying. A few rows down, on an end display were the beloved Pillow Pets. And two little girls were hugging them and fondling them and throwing them up in the air. Lila lost her shit.

"They're playing with MY UNICORN!!!" She was basically hysterical and since she refuses to ride in the cart she fell to the floor and screamed and cried. I did my best to get her up and explain to her that they belong to Target and technically were in no way "HERS" but she wouldn't stop. She finally stopped crying long enough to walk over to the girls (who were much older and bigger than her) and snatch the unicorn out of one of their hands. Apologizing, I grabbed it from her and gave it back but the battle was on. Needless to say, we DID NOT get blinds that day. And I did not tell my mother about that event.

Seriously, is it too much to ask that your commercials not have mind control messages embedded in them that only children under 9 can decipher? Is it too much to ask that the hottest new toy be confined to the "hot new toys" area in a given store? Or that a store that is better known for it's feminine protection aisle than any cool trendy items WARN ME that my kid may freak out when I get to the end of the feminine care aisle?

Fucking Pillow Pets.

That little BITCH!!!

My three year old is a little bitch.  I am not saying this to be funny.  This is not something I am proud of.  But she is. 

I have noticed her talking back and demanding things for some time now.  For the most part, I stay calm and basically explain that 1) There is NO WAY I am going to give her what she wants if she is going to be a brat about it, and 2) Just because she decides to ask again, with the sad eyes and a whiney voice and gives me a great big "PLEEEEEEEEASE" doesn't mean she will get what she wants.  This method is not working. 

Lila is turning into a total bitch.  When I am driving somewhere she wants to go and I (God Forbid) stop at a red light, she sees it as her place to yell "GO MOMMY!" at the top of her lungs, as if I am just trying to keep her from having a good time.  Time after time I turn around and tell her "I am the driver.  I am the Mommy.  I decide when to go."  This method is not working.

I (half) jokingly told her father that she was getting to that age where I should strap her to the couch and play Mommie Dearest for her so she could see what happens when mommies are pushed to their emotional limits and they think their kids are ingrateful little brats. (Of course, I realize that this is not the intended moral of the movie, but in light of the fact that time-outs are a joke and she doesn't care when I take things away or with -hold treats, I think it may work as an effective tool in scaring the sass out of my kid).


Yesterday we went to Wal-Mart (I will not digress into how much I hate Wal-Mart and everything it stands for and everyone in it) and we were trying to hurry.  First there was the hissy fit when I said we couldn't buy a $40 Play-Doh set.  Then there was the refusing to hold my hand and running off.  Then there was the refusal to leave.  I kept cool.  There was NO WAY I was going to be that trashy mother yelling at her kid in the shampoo aisle at the Wal Mart.  When we finally got out to the car, she insisted on climbing into her car seat herself.  And I thought, "she's three...she needs to feel like she can do it herself," even though I was in a hurry to get to the bank before it closed.  She got into the seat and I started to buckle her in and she said, "I wanna do it."  "No baby," I replied.  This is pretty hard to do and I just want to get out of here, okay?"  The response she gave me took me off guard at first:

"I WILL DO IT NOW MOMMY!!!"

I felt the surging desire to slap her little mouth like my mother would do when I got overly sassy.  I wanted to...I really, for about half a second thought that it would be the best thing I could do...Maybe it was just the fact that I was in the Wal Mart parking lot, but I felt like swearing at her at the top of my lungs and slapping her.

But I didn't.  I put my hands on both sides of her face so she was looking right at me and said, as lovingly as I could at that moment, "If you talk to me like that again, I will slap your little sassy mouth."  Perhaps threatening isn't much better than the actual thing, but she sure was quiet on the ride home.  I almost think that THIS method may have worked. 

For the record, I have never hit her.  Never spanked or slapped or grabbed her roughly by the arm (or ear).  I have a good handle on my temper and I know I would never forgive myself.  But there are times when I can see myself doing it, in my mind, clear as day, and I wonder if perhaps spanking couldn't work on certain types of kids (the crazy ones).   Because as much as I want Lila to be an independent and happy kid, I want her to be respectful and polite just as much.  Not just because it makes ME insane, but because she needs to know that you have to be courteous and nice to function in a society with other people.

If I were to be completely honest, I would have to admit that she probably gets the attitude from me.  I raise my voice a lot.  And I find myself saying those dreaded words that every parent swears they will never say: 

"Because I'm the MOMMY, that's why."

And for now, that's the only thing that kid needs to understand.  Because being a super bitch in our house is MY job.

Stupid Paper Plates

Whoever came up with the Zoo Pals commercial jingle should be stabbed and then set on fire.  It may sound a little extreme, but I mean it.

If you are not familiar with Zoo Pals, watch this:
Zoo Pals Commercial

Because my kid watches more tv than any 3-year-old really should (mostly because she doesn't let me out of her sight unless she is enjoying one of her favorite shows), she sees this commercial during every kids show she watches. Then she yells for me to rewind it over and over and over so that she can sing along to it.  Then she spends the rest of the day either singing the song or begging me to get her Zoo Pals plates.

We went to the grocery store yesterday and somehow she spotted them from the other end of the aisle.  I was ready to give in and buy them until I saw them.  They are paper plates that come in a pack of 20 for $3.99.  They are not plastic, nor are they stiff styrofoam plates.  They are PAPER plates.  Sitting next to the stack of Zoo Pals plates was a giant pack of regular paper plates that stated on the package in giant lettering, "200 for $1.99!!!  WOW!!!!"  I said NO. 

Now Lila is refusing to use ANY of the plates we have in the house explaining that "THIS PLATE does not make eating fun."  I will likely give in and just buy the stupid plates.  But every day I send telepathic messages of scorn at those fucking advertising bastards.

Sugar and the meaning of insanity

My mother likes to load Lila up with sugar when she babysits her. The other night, Lila came home and I swear I thought someone had slipped her some Methamphetamine. It was not pleasant.

If you have never been in the presence of a kid wound up in this manner, I will take you through it now.

First, the mania. Lila ran and ran and ran and ran and the whole time was babbling and talking about god knows what at a volume that would rival the best of the Arena Rock shows from the 80's, complete with the screaming and some head banging. It was about 45 minutes of "Mommy...MAMA...MAMA...MOMMY...MOMMY....MOM....MAMA!!!!!! All of this was punctuated by little trips or falls where she would have a total nervous breakdown and scream and pound her face into the floor/wall/chairs and then, suddenly, jump back up and laugh maniacally and run some more.

It was getting close to dinner time and although I KNEW that she wasn't going to sit in her chair to eat, Ben insisted that we try. See, here's another thing I never understood until I had my own spawn: If your kid doesn't eat dinner, she doesn't sleep well because she is hungry. So you will do anything to get a few good helpings of mashed potatoes into the mouth because it is the difference between a rough night and a decent nights sleep. Lila threw her food at us. LAUNCHED her bowl onto the ground and screamed in a way that I held my glass of soda afraid that it might shatter.

Ben put her into bed. She jumped and yelled and screamed and in fact, we decided that she was having more fun in there than she had been having running around. Some disciplinarians we were turning out to be.

Finally, she crashed. We put her in the tub, kicking and screaming, and by the time bath time was over she could barely keep her eyes open for her story.

And she slept! My kid still wakes up most nights, but this time she slept so deeply that I had to check on her in the morning because it was freaking me out.

Note to Grandma: NO SUGAR AFTER 2PM because I don't want to deal with that shit ever again!