The Zyrtec is working!

Ada slept so well the past few nights.  One night she went to bed at 9:30 and didn’t wake up until 4:45 in the morning, and that was only because one of the cats woke her.   Amazing.

But I think it might be making her too drowsy.  She’s been complaining of being tired all day, which is unlike her.  I gave her Claritin tonight instead.  We’ll see if it works.  If not I’m going to give her 1/2 tsp of the Zyrtec instead of the full 1 tsp to see if it helps without making her sleepy.  I know Zyrtec makes me feel like I’m in some sort of fog when I take it.  It also makes my throat dry and sore.

After sleeping for a few consecutive hours several nights in a row the world has come back into focus.  It’s no longer a fuzzy dream state like it’s been for the past several years.  I may be able to regain some sense of normalcy!  Thank goodness.  I was starting to get concerned that I might actually become insane.  Not joking.

Now if only I could get my own allergies under control.  I’m allergic to tree pollen, various grass pollens, and mold.  I was also allergic to cats, dogs, horses, and rabbits, but I’m not anymore after taking allergy shots for years throughout middle school and high school.  Animal dander would give me red itchy eyes and a runny nose.  Now the cats can sit on my face and nothing happens.  The only time I have an allergic reaction to a cat is when my outdoor cat comes in and rubs on my face, then I get red itchy eyes.  I think it’s because she has pollen from outside on her fur.

I stopped taking the allergy shots when I was pregnant with Ada and my allergies have gotten so much worse.  I’m going to start taking them again when we have better insurance, sometime in the next few weeks.

I’m terrified to research allergy shots because they work so well.  I think the benefits for me outweigh almost any risk.  I don’t have minor allergies. Natural remedies do nothing for me. (I have tried many of them out of desperation!)  I need the big guns.  I have horrible, life altering miserable allergies where I’m choking on post nasal drip and feeling sick all the time, and getting repeated ear and sinus infections.  Lucky me!

It’s not from food intolerances.  I’m super allergic to the freaking outdoors, which sucks because I spend every possible moment outside or with animals!  I am the hay fever queen.  It’s hereditary.  My dad has the exact same allergies, so do my cousins. I’m afraid Ada seems to have them too.  I hope when I restart the allergy shots things will settle down like they did when I took them before.  I’m also going to try the chiropractor when we get on better insurance because I’ve heard they are great for opening up the sinuses and ears.

Speaking of getting on better insurance, TONIGHT IS TYLER’S FIRST NIGHT AS A REGULAR EMPLOYEE!  He’s no longer a temp at Toyota.

How exciting is that!!!

HR called him on Saturday (randomly) and offered him a permanent position starting tonight!

We’re still trying to get our house ready to sell. This weekend we repaired some drywall where there was a leak in the bathroom and did a lot of painting.  I’m hoping to finish painting this week, and then we will clean out the garage this weekend.  We’re almost done!

I’m having trouble finding someplace I want to live.  I just don’t know.  We want to have a large family and some land.  It seems impossible at the moment, yet continuing to live here seems impossible too.

Between the house and homeschooling I feel so busy!  I wonder what I used to do with all of my spare time.  Funny how that goes.  After I had Rosie I marveled over what life used to be like when I had no kids.  Then I had Ada and I thought back about how easy it was with just one kid and wondered what I did with all that free time.  Then we started homeschooling and I look back and wonder whatever I must have done before this.  What next??

This weekend we went to the Cincinnati Zoo, which is two hours from here.  I went to my future sister-in-law’s bridal shower.  And we did chores all weekend.

The girls are going to be flower girls in SIL’s wedding.  The wedding is on 10/11/12 at Holden Beach.  (Near Myrtle Beach.)  We’re flying down there on the Monday before–I’m flying alone with the kids because Tyler has to work until Wednesday.  It will be the kids’ first time flying and also Ada’s first time at the beach.  Rosie went to the beach when she was 12 months old, but of course she has no memory of it.  I’m nervous and excited!

The girls tried on their flower girl dresses at the bridal shower this weekend.  They will also have red sashes.  (SIL is in the white shirt standing up.)

Zel is the little girl on the right.  She is SIL’s niece.

Rosie thought she looked like the bride.  She was very pleased.

(Yes, that’s a bubble wrap veil.)

The weather outside has taken a distinct turn towards fall now.  Even when it’s warm out the air just feels different.  The light is more golden, the air is more…something I can’t quite put into words.  Rosie says it smells like Halloween outside.  This weekend I saw a few leaves beginning to turn for the first time this season.

These pictures are from Sunday afternoon.

Duckface!

The baby ducks, safe from their murderous father in their own little pen.

Lazarus Duck is so tiny.  He eats well.  I have no idea why he isn’t growing.  At least he appears to be starting to feather out like the other two.

He’ll probably be fine.

Laz, as I have started calling him.

They are all afraid of us now, since they’ve spent so much time in their pen.  Oh well.

They’re still cute to look at!

(That orange extension cord goes to the baby ducks’ heat lamp and the random board on top of their pen is to cover up water drips onto the lamp when it rains.)

He will kill me if he finds out I posted these.  Bahahahaha!

Here’s me with Ada.  I look like a hot mess because I just scraped and shoveled chicken poop from both coops for the past hour, plus cleaned up a lot of stuff outside.

I even have paint on my arm from working inside earlier.  Ada looks so goofy!

Ok.  I’ll stop now.  Zoo pictures later.

Every year of parenting I learn something new because I run up against another challenge.

 

Parenting is hard.  I think it’s harder the older kids get.  Five and half, almost six is the most difficult yet.

 

It’s this age when suddenly there’s no more adorable toddler or preschooler innocence left.  Kids are expected to behave with some maturity.  They should be able to start understanding how to act in different situations.  Being a preschooler is no longer an excuse, because they aren’t that little any longer.  All of that cute baby fat is gone, gone, gone.

 

I have never let Rosie get away with things.  I think I’m a pretty strict parent.  I try to say yes as much as possible over the little things–I mean I try not to make a big deal over stuff like a few crumbs in the living room or whatever.  I want us to have fun, I’m not running the military over here.

 

But I don’t let my kids throw tantrums in public when they are little.  We will immediately leave.  I taught both girls to walk along beside me as soon as they could walk and understand.  (10-12 months, a little older than 12 months for the fully understanding bit.)  I taught Ada not to run in the road right away, and to stop when commanded, and so on.  I don’t mess around with these things–I don’t tolerate out of control behavior for a single second when it can be helped.  I always take the situation into account–overtired, illness, hungry, bored, upset, etc., but I never just let things slide when behavior starts to rapdily decline.

 

When Rosie was small I taught her manners–please, and thank you, and waiting patiently.  And she has always been expected to obey the first time she’s asked because if I demand she does something in my mom voice right away it’s always something very important.

 

 

 

The point of this is, whether through parenting or sheer luck both of my girls were very well behaved, as much as kids can be.  No kid is perfect, obviously.

 

Then I saw Rosie get excited about reading, and against my better judgement I let her read a bunch of Junie B. Jones books.

 

Holy crap.

 

EVERYTHING fell apart.

 

Attitude, down the crapper.  Talking back, not listening, stomping, eye rolling, tantrums.  Tantrums! To rival a toddler!

 

What the heck?  She began acting just like Junie B. Jones!  (Those books are bad examples, have you all ever read them?)

 

I’ve spent the past few months trying to restore order over here.  It’s been exhausting!  An unfortunate battle of wills.  Rosie was in the firm camp of Will Not and I was in the even firmer camp of Yes You Will.

 

I normally try to find a way to work the situation so everyone can be happy, but these things were just way beyond consenual living.

 

 

Yes You Will respond when I ask you a question.  I know you heard me.  Yes You Will pleasantly pick up the huge mess you made.  Yes You Will listen when I tell you not to do something.

 

You are not the boss of the entire house.  No way.  You cannot scream and demand things from your parents, or anyone else for that matter.  You cannot do whatever you want, whenever you want just because you feel like it.  You cannot stomp and roll your eyes constantly.

 

And dammit we covered this when you were 15 months old:  WE DO NOT HIT, PINCH, OR KICK ANYONE FOR ANY REASON UNLESS YOU ARE BEING KIDNAPPED BY A SCARY STRANGER.  NO, YOUR SISTER DOES NOT QUALIFY AS A SCARY STRANGER.

 

I think part of it is the age.  Every little girl I’ve ever known seems to go through a bossy phase around this age.  Unfortunately this phase for Rosie has coincided with a new Junie B. attitude.

 

Nightmare!  Or as Junie B. would scream, “911! 911!”

 

 

Today Rosie had her first actual playdate.  I left her at a friend’s house in another town for the whole day, and her friend’s mom brought her home this afternoon.  I was super nervous that Rosie would be bossy and rude.  (Manners suddenly seem to elude her, again I say what the heck? Did aliens beam down and delete all of the hard parenting work I’ve done right out of her brain!?)

 

Guess what happened at the play date.

 

The little girl she was playing with is apparently also going through the same bossy phase.  (Maybe she read the Junie B. Jones books too.)  She bossed Rosie around, and then threw a tantrum when Rosie didn’t do exactly what she wanted.

 

This is not a criticism of the other little girl because I know her mom is a good parent all around and sometimes you can’t control your child’s attitude no matter how much heart and soul and discipline you put into it.  Believe me, I would know.

 

I just found this HYSTERICALLY funny.  Rosie does the exact same thing to Ada over, and over, and over every day.  She flips out when Ada doesn’t do exactly what she commands.

 

Rosie totally got a taste of her own medicine!  Right down to the, “I don’t want to play with you anymore because you aren’t doing what I say.”

 

Rosie deserved it.  She deserved every second of it.

 

Sorry Rosie, payback is a b*tch!

 

I might be laughing for the rest of the night.

 

 

Tonight when I was tucking Rosie into bed she commented on how the other girl had behaved.  I was like, “Rosie you know that’s exactly how you treat Ada.  It didn’t feel very nice, did it?”  Rosie agreed it wasn’t very fun.

 

She was shocked when she saw her friend throwing a tantrum.  Rosie couldn’t believe she might look so ridiculous when she starts stomping, screaming, and wailing.  Oh, but she does!  She said, “Mom my eyes got really big!  My friend threw a toy!”

 

Rosie, that should have been like looking in a mirror.

 

Ahahahahahahaha.  Hah. Hahahahahaha!

 

 

Maybe Rosie will remember this.  She was actually a lot nicer to Ada this afternoon.  I hope she doesn’t forget!  If she does, they can probably play together again soon.

 

Despite the little girl issues Rosie still had a blast and wants to play with her friend all day again.  Go figure.

 

I love kids, confusing creatures that they are.

 

 

Please God may this phase pass swiftly.

 

I can only reprimand, go over the family guidelines, and remind her how to use manners so many times before my brain implodes.

 

 

I can’t wait to see what happens when K gets here.  Can’t boss around someone who doesn’t speak your language! (Which I think is part of Rosie’s concerns.)  It will be a wonderful distraction from the intensity that forms between Rosie and Ada alone, I think.  It should also be a good learning experience in compassion for Rosie.  Everyone is not as blessed as she is.

 

And well mostly, you know all lessons aside, I just can’t wait to love on K and see her having fun with Rosie and Ada, even if Rosie’s behavior is a work in progress.

 

 

Oh if you are struggling with bored kids this summer and your kids like to color, I have a present for you.  I compiled a huge amount of Dover coloring and activity books.  Paper dolls you can print out on card stock, castles of the world, dragons, birds, zoo animals, and tons more.  They are in PDF format so you don’t even need an e-reader or anything.  Link below!  (Leave your email if you want the link, don’t want to leave it up and violate copy right laws any more than I already am!)

Oh gosh you all, I am so tired.  Ada needs an off switch.  An automatic shut off.  I would flip the switch at 7 or 8 in the evening and restart her around 8 in the morning.

That would be amazing.

Unfortunately (I guess) parenthood is a 24/7 job.

Dude, I need a weekend or something to catch up on my Zzzz’s before I up and keel over!

Ada didn’t get the memo that toddlers are supposed to start sleeping through the night.

Heck, she didn’t even get the memo that toddlers are supposed to sleep for longer than 1-2 hours at a time.

Aauughaghhhhhhhh.

Parenting fail of the day yesterday:

It was 60 degrees and sunny out yesterday afternoon, so we went to the park.

Gorgeous winter sunlight.

Just what everyone needs–a dose of vitamin D and fresh air.  Soak it up.

The girls ran and ran.  In fact they did almost nothing but run!

Rosie wouldn’t even stop to let me take her picture.  How dare a five year old want to have fun rather than be photographed by her mother.  Tsk.

Clearly no one has ever told her that it’s memorable to over zealously capture every moment in a photograph.

Ada is still well under my influence, thankfully.  When she outgrows it I will have to immediately replace her with a newer, tinier, more compliant model.

I was meeting another family there to do some one year pictures, so I brought this chair.

 

It ended up turning out that her kids weren’t into pictures that day at all, but I got great ones of my kids.  Maybe I have my kids trained to sit and look cute.

Sorry kiddos!

I play games with them like, “Here comes the mousey from the barny to the housey to get you!” then I jump back and snap a picture, or just plain old peek-a-boo from behind my camera sometimes works great.

Nothing matters as much as finding a sweet spot full of delicious light!

 

Their backs to the afternoon sun, and a few rays in the edge of the viewfinder.

Hello sun magic!  (This is almost straight out of the camera, I just warmed it up a tiny bit and boosted the contrast a little.)

The park is actually grounds of a local historical house and it has acres of open fields, woods, a creek with a babbling brook, and very nice playground equipment.

It’s just around the corner (have to drive across a busy road though) and there are rarely other people during the weekdays.  You get the entire thing to yourself, and as a bonus it has very clean flushing toilets.  My dogs love to run there too.

The house is an 1800′s plantation style mansion with slave quarters and original log cabins. Sometimes the older ladies who volunteer there come out in their 1800′s costumes to say hi.  I love that.  I fully plan on being one of those old ladies one day when I’m gray haired and my kids are grown.

There’s a field of cows across the driveway, big black Angus waiting to be steak. The woods conceal train tracks.  Loud trains go by every ten minutes, which the girls love to see.  We can hear the trains from our house but can’t see them unless we’re at this park.

Did I mention how nice it was to just get outside and play?  Despite the 25 mph wind the sun was still glorious.

I am not a fan of winter.  Especially this winter, where there’s been cool wet weather with little snow or actual WINTER.  Just lots of blah, gray days.

Sometimes I dream about moving somewhere that has no winter and instead has beautiful beaches.

Then I think it would be too hard to leave our families here.  The girls deserve to have grandparents, aunts, and uncles more than they would need to have warmth and beaches year round.  I think.

 

 

I have to snap pictures of them quick before someone gets up and runs away, so I don’t always get time to line up the shot perfectly like I’d like.

But the memories are worth saving, all the same…

Ada loves this sweater.  (Thank Sara!)

We got snow cones afterward, to celebrate a beautiful (strangely) sunny and warm January day.  Ada just had shaved ice, which I told her was snow.  She tasted it and yelled, “Oh MINE!”

That’s what she says instead of oh my, which I think is adorable.  Now Tyler and I have started saying it too.  Rosie is all like, WHY ARE YOU ALL SAYING THAT WRONG!

Rosie is a stickler for rules and correctness in all things.

After we got home I had to takeRosie to her piano lesson and my mom stopped by after work to watch Ada.

Apparently Ada was worn out from the park, and when I got home at 5:30 she started crying and couldn’t stop.  I tried so hard to keep her awake.

5:30 is not a good time to go to bed.  Bad, bad…unless you want to be up all night!

Then she nursed and nursed, and ate a piece of shredded cheese and completely spewed her belly contents all over me, herself and the couch.

And I gave up on keeping her awake.  She passed out cold in bed.

Parenting fail.

At 10:30 she woke up completely happy saying, “I hongry Momma!”

She was bouncing off the walls until 2:30 in the morning.

Toddler insomnia via Photo Booth on the iMac:

Me today, and well most days really thanks to Ada:

Zzzzz….

 

 

 

Being a parent is so hard.

I have realized that the secret to raising happy, compassionate, responsible, polite children is not what you do to your kids to train them or whatever, it’s based on the example you set as a person.

This thought scares me quite a bit.  I mean it’s easy to read parenting books, to do this or don’t do that, and to judge other parents based on their choices.  But it sure is harder to turn around and look at yourself.  It’s way harder to hold yourself responsible for the example you set.

 

I’ve been doing some heavy reading and I’ve decided my goals as a parent (and as a human being) are to have compassion, show kindness, have humility, quiet strength, and self discipline.

I read that in the Bible.  Apparently the Bible is an excellent parenting resource, though not in the way most people automatically think.  Not in relation to those out of context verses about rods people are always quoting, oh no.  That kind of parenting is *really* not for me.  I’m talking about words of wisdom.

It’s so hard.  Did I mention that?  I am not automatically compassionate.  I am not gentle enough.  I am not cheerful no matter what.  I don’t even really know how to be those things.  I guess the first step is realizing that I need to work on it.

 

One night I was flipping through pages in the Message Bible (on my iPad, old religion meet new fangled technology) and I read that the wrath of man doesn’t bring forth the righteousness of God.  That could mean a lot of things when applied to different situations, I know.  But it makes me think of parenting, and it makes me think that getting angry with my kids does not make them behave the way I want them to.  When I get angry I make my kids angry, and anger is nothing but destructive.

Then coincidentally I later read this in another book, the Duggar’s book…extremely weird how I’d never had this thought before then suddenly read it in a second place on the same night.  Michelle Duggar goes on to elaborate noting that “A soft answer turns away wrath.”

Um…well…that’s practically genius.  I am a yeller.  Oh send help, my neighbors probably hear me yelling all the time.  I just can’t help it.  And my kids know it too.  If I yell they are like, yeah whatever mom.  Tyler does not yell and on the occasion he does the kids both are shocked and burst into tears.  Michelle Duggar writes that she whispers instead of yelling and that gets her childrens’ attention.  I keep trying this but then Rosie says, “What? I can’t hear you.  Why are you whispering mom?”

Oh well.

Maybe if I keep doing it enough it will work.  At least making myself whisper is calming and makes me reign in any angry emotions instantly.  You have to be mindful to whisper.  It’s much easier to automatically yell.

 

This Bible, what a ridiculous book.  Every time Christianity is mentioned so many people roll their eyes then up and run away as fast as they can.  I know it’s because 99.9% of the world’s Christians are idiots, believe me.  I was forced to attend church my entire childhood.  I could write you a book, but it’s not worth it the wasted emotion.  I honestly do not know why people flock to church and sit in multimillion dollar buildings while praying for poor people.  I will never be able to get over that.

I think that pretty much sums up why I don’t go to a brick and mortar church.  I could write you a long list of well thought out reasons in addition, but that one sentence summary pretty much covers it.

The human race is quite flawed, isn’t it?

 

But back to parenting/being a role model of who you want your child to be:

Another night I was absent-mindedly flipping through the Bible on my iPad–I just love how you can flick the pages across the screen–while musing about parenting woes and this one passage literally LEAPT off of the page.  My eyes just happened to fall on it or whatever.

Parts of it said:

“Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense.”

Dude.  How many times as a mother have I sat at home and stewed over how I am always second place to everyone else’s needs?  How much have I let that ruin my mood, my day, or my attitude towards my family?  How many moments have I wasted getting angry in my mind over something stupid my husband has done?  How many times have I just out of the blue snapped and started yelling instead of being even-tempered…

“And regardless of what else you put on, wear love.  It’s your basic all-purpose garment.  Never be without it.”  (Colossians 3:12-14)

 

Did I say this is hard?  I already said that a few times, right?

I mean, my kids are ok.  They are great, actually.  They are fairly well behaved.  They’re especially well behaved for other people.  It’s not like I am a failure or something.

I just need to work on myself.  That is overwhelming.

I’ve got good inspiration though.  Whenever I feel like giving up, I think of little eyes watching me and learning.  What if I give them a negative, whining outlook they will carry with them the rest of their lives?  I don’t want to teach them to yell or hit their children in the future.  I don’t want to teach them to be super uptight or judgmental (of themselves or others.)

It’s a lot of responsibility, being a parent.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If I live in a house of spotless beauty with everything in its place, but have not love- I am a housekeeper, not a homemaker.

If I have time for waxing, polishing, and decorative achievements, but have not love- my children learn of cleanliness, not godliness.

Love leaves the dust in search of a child’s laugh.

Love smiles at the tiny fingerprints on a newly cleaned window.

Love wipes away the tears before it wipes up the spilled milk.

Love picks up the child before it picks up the toys. Love is present through trials.

Love reprimands, reproves, and is responsive.

As a mother there is much I must teach my child, but the greatest of all is…LOVE.

 

–Found in "A Love That Multiplies"

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ada is wearing me out.  She looks innocent, but don’t be fooled!

She’s curious, and busy, and I’m 99% sure she has wheels for feet.

 

 

 

 

I can’t get anything done because she’s always climbing and into every little thing!

God help me when she figures out how to open door knobs in the next month or so.  (We can’t get those door knob covers because then Rosie couldn’t get the doors open.)

 

Ada can climb like a monkey.  She has unnatural upper arm strength, I swear.

She will push a kitchen chair over to the counter, then climb up in the chair, and then climb up onto the counter, open the top cabinets, and begin throwing things out.

She can climb up onto the toilet, then open the medicine cabinet and throw everything she can find into the sink, and then she leans over and turns on the water full blast and splashes in it.

She can climb the big slide outside, then she turns around and slides down head first, crashes and rolls at the bottom, stands up, laughs manically, and climbs up the slide again.

Careful Rosie is the polar opposite.  Rosie just worked up the courage to enjoy going down slides LAST MONTH.  She’s five!

 

Ada can also scale the ladder to Rosie’s top bunk at warp speed, then she bounces on the bed and tries to launch herself over the side.

This one scares me the most–I try to keep the door to Rosie’s room closed, but that’s where all of the girls’ toys are and Rosie is always going in and out.  If Ada falls from the top bunk she will slam into the wood floor below.  It’s about 6.5-7 feet down.  I’m terrified thinking of it.  I’m almost certain it will happen at some point.

Ada takes off running and sneaks into Rosie’s room whenever she can, and she goes straight up the ladder.  I try to watch her constantly, but it’s so hard!

People suggest a pack n’ play to me and that is just laughable.  SHE CAN CLIMB RIGHT OUT OF THAT!

 

See for yourselves, the Ada Monkey.

 

 

 

I’m working hard to teach her boundaries.

It took me two days to teach her not to run in the road.  She now walks nicely along on the sidewalk.

It took us about three shopping trips to teach her how to follow along without running away.  It’s important to me that I teach my kids how to behave in public rather than just deal with them running off or struggle with using a stroller all the time, so as soon as they are big enough to walk along I begin teaching them.

I just keep redirecting, over and over, while explaining.  I know it works on different personality types because Rosie was very sensitive and high strung, and it worked with her.  Ada is head strong and plows through people using the force of her big ol’ head, but I could still teach her.  You just have to be persistent and don’t let them get away with it one time or they’ll think it’s ok.

Ada always wanted to run the opposite direction from me while laughing.  Uh, I don’t think so sister!  If you don’t walk along with Momma then I have to carry you.  That’s what I tell her.  She wants to walk.  She totally understood this at 13 months old.  She still sometimes stops and gets distracted by things in stores, but we’re working on the next step–if you grab things off of the shelves then I have to carry you.  I tell her, “Oh I see that. It needs to stay right there on the shelf.  Keep walking!”  If she starts to grab things I tell her, “No ma’am.  Want Momma to hold you?”  Works like a charm, at least when she’s well fed and well rested…

 

But in the house…oh Ada…it’s much harder because we’re here all the time.  I can’t convince her not to climb up the bunk bed ladder, she watches her sister climb it over and over.

Two weeks of redirecting successfully got us past her climb-up-and-jump-on-top-the-kitchen-table phase. That was horrible and exhausting.  The kitchen table has been replaced by the bunk bed ladder.

I am seriously considering getting Ada one of those infant sized bike helmets.

It would be cute, right?

Knowing my luck it would cause bald spots on her head from wearing it too much.

 

One part of the Charlotte Mason type of schooling is the formation of good habits and character traits.

Originally I wrote that bit off as silly, thinking we aren’t that type of parent.  I’m really not into Biblical child training, like Pearls or Babywise.  Charlotte Mason didn’t even have children, so how could she be an authority on how to train children to have any sort of habits or morals, anyway?

The entire thought of training children put me off–it goes back to feeling like I’m training my dogs.  Children aren’t like dogs, or monkeys, or robots.  It makes me uncomfortable to think of training.  I don’t even call it potty training, I prefer to call it potty learning.

Recently I’ve come to notice something unfortunate.  Rosie did not seem to be learning manners or morals through osmosis like I’d previously hoped.  I mean, she wasn’t exactly learning by example.  She wasn’t rude, at least not that bad.  But she also wasn’t sweet and polite, not like the children of others we know.

What could the difference be?

Certainly not…child training.

Is it possible to “train” a child without spanking?  I never really considered it, being so put off by word “training” to begin with.

 

I spent a lot of time reading about these things with more of an open mind.  Now I really wish I’d started this earlier with Rosie.  Way, way earlier.

As a matter of fact, if I admit to any huge mistakes as a parent not doing this from an earlier age would be it.  (And for the record it’s the only major mistake I can think of, haha.)

Beginning at age four has been difficult, to say the least, but I’m sticking to it with firm consistency.

It *is* still possible to teach your child to have manners and morals (character traits) in a loving, respectful way!

 

This is what we’re doing:

We are reading Aesop’s Fables.  One every day, or several a week, and discussing the moral of the story.  Having these discussions with a four year old is interesting.  She is capable of understanding quite a bit!

We have character traits I printed out, laminated, and put magnets onto.  I hung them on the fridge.  When anyone in our family is not displaying one of these traits then someone gets to call them out on it, and we move that trait to the side of the fridge until the person works on it and has it back under control.  This goes for us as well as Rosie.  I don’t mind if Rosie calls us out on something because a) we should be setting a better example anyway, and b) it’s getting her to pay more attention to how we should be behaving.

The words on the fridge are:

Truthful

Kindness

Joyful Heart

Manners

Helpful

Attentive

Patient

Self Control

Cleanliness

Thankfulness

Doing my best

Obedient the first time

I think others might use these words as part of a reward/punishment system, but again that’s not really how I roll so we’re doing it in a more thoughtful way.  It’s working great so far.

 

We also have a laminated set of character trait cards that I made.  Each card has a character trait on it with a definition and a Bible verse.  Each week we hang a different card on the fridge, and that week we memorize the verse. (Or the most important part of the verse if it’s too long.)  We also discuss the card at least once a day and read a story pertaining to the trait each day.

This week it’s forgiveness.  It’s amazing to see that Rosie is actually LEARNING these traits!  She didn’t understand what forgiveness was prior to this week.  When we talk about it I ask her for an example of forgiveness and she makes up all kinds of things that are correct.  I love that this is working!

 

The formation of good habits is also something I want us to work on.  I’ve begun assigning Rosie small chores to do.  This is the hard part, and another thing I wish I’d began sooner.  Rosie resists helping out–it’s too hard she tells me. It’s not fair.  She doesn’t want to.  OMG.  Too bad!!

This ties into obeying the first time you’re asked to do something and doing work with a joyful heart.  Tough for little children to learn.  I am being calm and consistent.  If she starts screaming, growling, or throwing a fit then she has to go sit in her bed until she can calm down.  I’ve explained to her that we don’t behave that way out here in the rest of the house.  It’s ok to be upset, but you can’t be upset and ruin everyone else’s day.  Go be upset by yourself.  I tell her that I understand if she doesn’t want to do something, but we all have to help out with chores, just like I cook her food and do her laundry.

I’m still careful to acknowledge her feelings and keep in mind if she’s hungry or too tired or whatever, and of course the chores are always age appropriate.  Today she had a half an hour long freak out over being asked to push the kitchen chairs back under the table after I mopped and the floor dried.  After screaming and growling at me, then sitting on the couch pouting at being asked to do such a horrible hard task, she finally got up and did it without any trouble. Four year olds! *sigh*

It’s hard for me too because I’m not letting her slack–she’s not going to scream at me or walk around growling and rolling her eyes. I am so done with that.  I have to be on top of it every time she starts up. Possibly the hardest thing for me is hanging on that fine line between grace, forgiveness, and gently teaching (discipline).

Seems to be helping–she’s stopped doing the talking back, growling, huffy, eye rolling attitude so often, and she actually seems genuinely happier a lot of the time!  She’s so proud when she helps out successfully too. I used to think that child training was sort of like brainwashing your children to be perfect but I don’t think that anymore. It’s more like teaching your children how to have a positive attitude. That equates with teaching them how to be happy people instead of someone who is negative, always complaining and dragging around. Won’t positive, hardworking children grow into compassionate adults who will have the drive and focus to dedicate themselves to what interests them? Those are the kind of adults I want my children to be. It takes self discipline to be successful, doesn’t it? Who is going to teach my children self discipline if I don’t do it? It’s not just going to happen by magic or something…

 

Again, I really wish I hadn’t have waited so long to start “training” Rosie.  I’m starting all of this with Ada as soon as she’s old enough to understand!  (Some of which is right now…but not much.)

We have friends who train their children like this–intensively practicing manners and positive character traits and good habits–and they are so polite, kind, and well behaved.  If I plan to be a mom of many then I’d better get on the ball!  I can’t be a happy parent if I’ve got a home full of crazy uncontrollable children bouncing off the walls!

 

Funny how parenting has so many layers.  With each age and stage I’m learning something new I never realized before.

(While I’ve been sitting here quickly writing this Ada has realized that some of our Schliech action figures can ride on the horses.  She’s marching the horses around with faeries riding on their backs chanting, “ride you ride you ride you!”  Oh, I love her.)

 

Parenting is such a funny thing.

When Rosie was a baby I had definite ideals about how I would raise her–especially regarding discipline.

I read a lot of books.  A LOT of books.

It was going to work like this: There would be no spanking, no time-outs, and no praise.

(I know the praise thing confuses people–I mean no “good job” or “good sharing” crap, anyone notice how it’s way over used?  Doesn’t mean you can’t ever say, “Wow I love the way you colored that rainbow, it’s beautiful!” You know, making a genuine comment instead of insincere automated, “Good chewing with your mouth closed Johnny!”)

It seems so simple when they are small.

And then they get older, and it’s anything but simple.  There are all kinds of extenuating circumstances.  Are they over tired? Over stimulated? Hungry? Sick?  Is their developmental level appropriate for my expectations?  So much thinking.

I still think Super Nanny is a crack pot.  Children are not machines that can be automatically trained to behave.  Well, I guess they can be trained to behave but not without internal damage.

The thing is, I don’t want to train my children to behave.  I want them to be free thinking, healthy children who are able to make the right decisions for intrinsic reasons rather than for fear of a consequence.  By no means do I think they should be allowed to run wild, the most important thing I can teach my children is to respect themselves and those around them, and that includes having good manners.

Now here’s the trick:  How in the world do you instill all of these qualities in a child?  By nature children are impulsive and selfish.  Not because children are bad, but because they are naturally so inwardly focused on themselves as they grow and develop.  As parents it’s our job to open their eyes to the world around them.

Discipline means “to teach” and not “to punish” right?

Do you teach someone by punishing them?  Wait, no…that would be bullying in any other setting.

Convincing someone to do what you want by emotional coercion or physical force…what does that define?

Yeah.  Awkward silence.

I’m a parent, not a bully.

 

So let me tell you: Being in tune with your kid is hard work.  As a baby and toddler it works out pretty well, at least it did for me.  As she’s gotten older we’ve hit some very rough patches.  She never does horrible things in public–but at home sometimes all is not well.

I decided to test out punishments.  Is this terrible?  No, I don’t think so.  (Well, maybe a little considering I am firm in my beliefs that punishment is not the answer.)

First I tested time-out, Super Nanny style.  That was ridiculous, over dramatic, and didn’t do anything except create prolonged discord in my home.  Sitting down and wailing teaches her nothing except to not let me catch her being bad.  She is absolutely not sitting there thinking about what she did wrong.  I know, because I sat in time-out as a kid.  I was thinking all kinds of angry thoughts, not one single bit of remorse.

Time-out…fail.  Though I will mention that sometimes when Rosie is out of control she does need some time in her room to cool down and recenter herself–this is different than a forced time out spot with a forced apology afterward.

 

One day I decided to test out spanking.  Yeah, I really did.  Pick your jaws up off of the floor.

That was interesting.

I felt like a horrible person.

Rosie told everyone we saw for like two weeks that I spanked her.

“Hi little girl, I love your sparkly red shoes!”  “My momma spanked me.”

Oh gosh.  Why Rosie, why?  Embarrassing!  What do you say in that situation?  Walk away quickly!

 

The spanking experiment taught me two things.

1) You now have a huge power over your child.  If you take on a threatening tone your child will cover their butt and back away.

2) Spanking makes you feel like complete scum as a parent.  At least it did me.  It’s embarrassing for you, and it’s embarrassing for your child to know that their loving parent hit them.  Hitting someone scares them into doing what you want them to do.  Again…what does that define?

 

So where does this leave me, discipline-wise?

Well.

I have found the answer.

One night when I couldn’t sleep (I have horrible insomnia) I decided to download a Bible for the iPad.  It was impulsive.  I wanted to read something and I saw it on sale for 99 cents, so I clicked “buy” and there it was.

I know as soon as I say the word BIBLE then half of the people reading this will run away and hide in a corner with tin foil hats on.  Sorry.

You know, people always say the Bible is pro-spanking.  I kind of think that’s a load of donkey poo.  Sure, in the Old Testament they stoned people and other horrific things.  But not in the New Testament.  A shepherd never beats his sheep with his rod, he guides them with it.  (Have you ever seen a sheep before?  I can’t imagine beating one.  I doubt it’s a coincidence that the Bible uses so many sheep/rod/shepherd comparisons.)

Anyway, what I was going to say before I got distracted by the thought of beating innocent fluffy sheep was that I randomly found the answer to my dilemma in the Bible.

I downloaded the Message Bible on my iPad.  I opened it and there was that famous bit about love, you know the one in 1 Corinthins 13?  Except the Message version sounds a bit different than the fancier Bible versions.

I had parenting on the brain, and this is what it said to me:

Love never gives up.

Love cares more for others than for self.

Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.

Love doesn’t strut,

Doesn’t have a swelled head,

Doesn’t force itself on others,

Isn’t always “me first,”

Doesn’t fly off the handle,

Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,

Doesn’t revel when others grovel,

Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,

Puts up with anything,

Trusts God always,

Always looks for the best,

Never looks back,

But keeps going to the end.

 

This is like a summary of my parenting goals.  I couldn’t believe it.  It’s like instructions for how to be a mother.

I guess what I’m trying to say is…it’s ok.  It’s ok to just love your kid.

It’s ok to say no to things if you have a good reason.  And it’s also ok to say yes as much as possible.

How do you teach children to be compassionate, respectful people capable of critical thinking?  You set an example for them, and you give them reminders over and over until they get it.  You show them how to forgive mistakes rather than belittling or bullying.

But most of all, you just love them unconditionally without fail.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I remember how much I first struggled to get Rosie to nurse when she was a newborn.

She wouldn’t latch on.  She just wouldn’t.  She arched her back and screamed.

I didn’t know what to do.

I thought she hated me.  I remember one night, when we’d only been home from the hospital for maybe a day or two, I laid her down on the bed and sobbed and sobbed because I was certain she hated me and that was why she reacted so strongly every time I tried to nurse her.

We had to work so hard, Rosie and I, in order to build our breastfeeding relationship.

The first time she successfully nursed without any pumped milk or nipple shields she was six weeks old.

 

 

 

Our breastfeeding relationship was wonderful.  Rosie was one of those babies who wants to nurse all the time.  Breastfeeding soothed her every woe, it put her to sleep, it nourished her body.  She wasn’t really interested in eating meals of solid food until she was 16 months old, because breast milk was just that good to her.

 

 

 

She wanted to nurse everywhere we went!  Nursing in public was scary for me at first.  Rosie made me push past that.  There was no way I could meet her need for nutrients and comfort without nursing her, and if I didn’t want to nurse her in public then I’d probably never be able to leave the house again.

 

 

 

Sometimes while I nursed her I sat and wondered.  I thought about what the last time I ever nursed her would be like.  Would I know it was the last time?  How would it be, parenting my Rosie without nursing her?

At different points in our relationship when these thoughts crossed my mind I had varying reactions.

When she was a baby I couldn’t imagine not nursing her.  I felt heartbroken at the thought our nursing relationship ending.  As time went on and she grew older the thought of her weaning wasn’t as sad.  I began to accept that it would happen one day, and when it did I would be ok.  Child led weaning means that your child is truly done nursing.  She would not be sad to stop nursing because she wouldn’t need to do it any longer.  Still, I couldn’t fathom when that time would come for my voracious nursling.

 

 

When I got pregnant my milk supply dropped.  Rosie was two years old.  She kept right on nursing, despite the fact that my nipples felt like they’d been rubbed against a cheese grater.  Despite the lack of milk.  It didn’t matter to her.

When my baby died at 12 weeks, Rosie kept right on nursing.  My milk came back and that made her happy.  It was nice to have her warm toddler body snuggled against my sad heart.

 

 

 

I got pregnant again right after Rosie’s third birthday.  By this point it was no longer socially acceptable for anyone to really know she was still nursing.  Americans don’t value breastfeeding relationships.  Maybe because so few of us have really experienced one to know how wonderful it can be, that knowledge is lost to our culture.  Instead we have so much misinformation brought about by inexperience, false advertising, and old wives tales.  Even pediatricians give terrible breastfeeding advice.

In other areas around the world child led weaning is more common.  Whenever I worried about what others thought I reminded myself that I am not the only mama out there nursing a toddler, or a preschooler.  Mamas just like me are loving on their little ones all around the world, some right here in America behind closed doors.

(Even in the middle of reorganizing a very messy room…)

 

 

 

I dedicated myself to child led weaning–nursing until Rosie and I both were finished.  At points during my pregnancy with Ada I was finished nursing Rosie.  It felt horrible.  I felt like I could crawl out of my skin, or fling Rosie out of the window.  It was just awful.  My milk was almost completely dried up by the second trimester.  There were no longer unicorns, and rainbows, and warm fuzzy feelings when it came to breastfeeding Rosie during this stage in our relationship.

Yet Rosie still wanted to nurse.  She loved the closeness it provided.  She’d fallen asleep nursing in my arms every single night of her life for three years.  I knew how important it was to her.  At this age she only nursed a few times a day–once upon waking in the morning and then again at night before bed.  It was a routine of love between us, the perfect way for us to reconnect at the end of the day.  The best way to start out our mornings.  I pushed past my feelings because I remembered how wonderful it used to be, and I had already come so far–why stop now?  How would I tell my sweet girl that she could no longer have her favorite thing in the world just because I didn’t want to do it anymore?  How would that affect her relationship with her new sibling if I forced Rosie to wean only to replace her at the breast with a new little one?  It couldn’t be good.  So I gritted my teeth and kept going, while kissing the top of Rosie’s head and whispering in her ears how much I love her.

 

Ada was born, and then I was nursing two little ones.  Tandem nursing.  It felt so strange at first.  I had visions of myself as a mama mammal, maybe a pig or a cat, nursing a litter.

Tandem nursing was beautiful also.  Rosie and Ada nursed together every night before bed.  They held hands and giggled over my chest each night.

 

 

 

Rosie began forgetting to nurse in the mornings when she woke up.  She just stopped asking.  Occasionally she would remember, until Ada was a few months old.  By then she had forgotten all together.  I didn’t remind her.  This is the natural progression of weaning, to forget a nursing session without remorse because it’s just not needed any longer.

After Rosie turned four I began to wonder if she would ever be ready to stop nursing.  I never imagined I would be nursing a four year old!  But you know, it’s not the same as looking at someone else’s four year old and saying, “Oh gosh I couldn’t imagine nursing that huge kid!”  Rosie was my baby.  I saw her every day of her life, she grew up before my eyes gradually.  I nursed her every day of her life.

It’s like when you don’t see someone for awhile and then you see them again and they are totally different, compared to if you see them every day.  When you see someone every day you don’t notice the gradual changes.

I know now that Rosie will go into motherhood filled with nothing but wonderful memories of nursing.  People who don’t understand say things like, “Won’t she be disgusted when she remembers nursing?”  No, she won’t.  She loved nursing even as she was ready to wean.  Memories of nursing are a gift that I’ve given her, a gift of knowledge about how wonderful a breastfeeding relationship can be, which she can in turn give to her children.

 

 

 

I would ask Rosie sometimes, when will you be done nursing?

“When I’m 90,” she’d say.  “I will nurse forever.”

 

I started thinking that four was hitting my comfort limit.  I mean she was still my baby, but she was so big compared to Ada.  Our breastfeeding relationship seemed to be falling into a season of winter, where there is dormancy and quiet stillness.  I could see a peaceful end on the horizon not too far ahead.

She began to nurse for shorter amounts of time.  Just before bed, and eventually only for a minute each night.  Despite the short amount of time, she would always need to nurse.  Suggestions to skip one night were met with horror and gnashing of teeth.

Then our relationship suddenly progressed further towards the end.  She came up with an idea she called pattern milk.  Pattern milk meant you nurse one night, then not nurse for the next night she told me.  She always changed the pattern to suit her needs. Sometimes she said the pattern was nursing for three nights then not nurse for one night.  It was a silly game she played.

 

One night a few weeks ago she nursed for the very last time ever.  She nursed for about 15 seconds then said, “Actually can I have a glass of water?”

I knew it was the last time.  I have a snapshot of it in my mind.

There it was–the moment I’d always wondered about when she was a baby.  At different points in our relationship I’d thought of that moment with dread and sadness, and at other times I’d looked forward to it.  But now that it had come I was ok, just as I thought I’d be.  Rosie was done nursing.  I was done nursing her.  We finished together and it was a peaceful quiet ending.

She hasn’t asked to nurse again since that night.  We read a book together before bed instead.  I tuck her in, blow the bad dreams out of her head, kiss her goodnight, and she goes to sleep.

 

And that’s…it.

The ending was so simple.

I won’t lie, I secretly cried.

It’s really over.  Four years and eleven months of a beautiful nursing relationship are behind us, and now a new chapter begins.