I’m rather reserved. Are you surprised? Don’t be. I grew up a devastatingly shy kid, and through the years I’ve been able to overcome it — or at least make you think I have. No, Christian’s the goofball in the family. He doesn’t think twice about acting silly at the park or pulling out all the stops to make the kids laugh while waiting at the doctor’s office (and the staff members have mentioned more than once how much listening to his shenanigans through the thin office walls entertains them).
Of course there’s nothing cooler than bringing a smile to your child’s face. But I’m self conscious like that. Which is why Christian truly is my better half.
Then there was the day I like to call “The day I sang like a lunatic into the Dora microphone to stop the whining and the crying and the begging for Toy Story.” Or as you might like to call it, Tuesday.
Something set someone off (not hard to do…they’re three after all), and all of the sudden it was a mass hysteria of moaning, yelling, rolling on the floor, and not wanting to do anything I suggested. I was at a loss. And trying to avoid giving in to the magic that is Buzz and Woody.
Then I saw it peeking out from behind the couch: the Dora microphone. A fun bilingual toy for all, often fought over, but always a winner. I grabbed it and showed it to Claire with massive enthusiasm, which was met with…
“NO!!!” Seriously, it was like she was yelling in a bigger font, y’all.
Double unhappiness was quickly growing, and those double bad moods were in danger of colliding with my own to create The Perfect Tantrum, minus the affiliation with George Clooney or Marky Mark.
So I floated. I floated above my physical body, where I saw a woman (surely that wasn’t me!) dancing around the room in front of her three year olds, who looked at her like she was absolutely nutso, singing as hard as she could into that microphone, trying her damnedest1 to crack a smile out of those two.
“IN ENGLISH WE SING HELLO! IN SPANISH WE SING HOLA! WHEN I SING HELLO, YOU SING HOLA, LET’S GO! VAMINOS!” <—Jealous????
Oh, and sometimes I may do a little “Check check, one two! This is DJ Mommy in da house!” But that’s for another day.
Did they like it? Uh, no. They swiftly reminded me that a) I’m not Dora; b) I can’t sing worth a lick; and c) they were still very, very unhappy with the way this segment of the day was going.
But did it help me not want to throttle them for a few more minutes and laugh at the fact that no matter what I did, they were going to veto me? Yes. Yes, it did. And I have Elizabeth to thank for that one!
I’ve said before how my kids have taught me patience, and it’s so true. They feed off of our moods and vibes, so getting frustrated right along with them just makes it worse. I’m a Libra, and I gotta keep my scale balanced by responding to their crazy with my calm.
Important quote from Rule 9: “Moms everywhere are talking to themselves in the stores, pretending they’re talking to the kid they have in the stroller or the grocery cart. But I know better.” Yup. Girl, you know it’s true.
Elizabeth’s assignment for Rule 9: I’ve always found it ironic that when things get the craziest in my house, I’m yelling at people to stop yelling!
Sometimes the best way to manage insanity is to counterbalance it. When my 2-year-old is whining for the 3rd hour in a row, I’ll quietly ask, “How can I help you?” (and, yes, there’s a bit of sarcasm in there that she can hopefully not detect).
The next time the insanity strikes, try speaking slowly and quietly. If nothing else, it will keep your own adrenaline in check! Adrenal fatigue is the new buzzword for women, and I figure this is a way to keep that at bay! (I hope.)