This is my kid.
She is the most awesome kid on the planet. She's funny, easygoing and she's the light of my life in every possible way. Life without her is just not worth it and I'm the luckiest human being alive because I get to be with her.
That said, this kid? This kid right hurr? Knows how to work me. Up until about a month ago, we were cool, just bopping along, enjoying life and being merry and gay. Then something happened.
She started testing me. Have you ever been tested by a toddler? Even those with nerves of steel and the patience of Job will crumble in the face of a willful toddler with determination on their mind. This little kid started doing stuff and I know that she knew what she was doing and she knew she wasn't supposed to and she did it anyway.
I never thought much about discipline until I had a kid. Anytime I went somewhere and there were rowdy kids I acknowledged their rowdiness, wished they were somewhere else and went on with my life. I never judged because that was too much effort and would require me to care, which I rarely did. Not that I don't have opinions, because I do. But to go so far as deem someone a bad parent because they have rowdy kids? I have better things to do with my life. Then one day, I had a rowdy kid.
As far as discipline goes, I have only one rule that I'm sticking to thus far: I will not hit/spank my child. *IN MY OPINION*, physical punishment only lasts as long as the physical pain and doesn't truly deter the action you're punishing in the first place. Plus, it instills fear instead of respect and you don't really learn what you're supposed to do in place of the thing you're getting spanked for. I was a spanked child and while I'm not at all permanently damaged from it and I don't look down on other people who do spank, I can say *for myself* it didn't teach me anything, and now that I'm grown I have neither fear nor respect for the disciplinarian. Spanking didn't work for me so I'm not using that method on my own kid.
Beyond that, I'm flying by the seat of my pants, and I've spoken to a couple other friends of mine and they too are doing what they can to keep from raising criminals. Some days it works, other days they're saving for bail money.
As for me, I'm starting to have to think more deeply about discipline and what I'm going to have to do to keep my daughter out of jail. Let me just say, I did not think it would start this early.
It started with the independence. She's really good about holding my hand - usually. But let there be something interesting in her eyesight and she's quick to snatch her hand out of mine and take off running. And that little chick is strong! Of course, she never gets far and I usually scoop her up before she's ever in danger or can cause damage, but still. Plus, if it's somewhere dangerous like a parking lot, she's still small enough to be either in my arms or strapped in a stroller.
But then came the tantrums. If she pulled her hand out of mine and I catch her and hold her hand again, she'll sit down wherever we are. If I try to scoop her up, she lays down. Then comes the screeching. It's not crying, it's being pissed. Out Loud. None of these things bother me and I could give two shits who's looking and judging. Again, I'm flying by the seat of my pants and I'm doing the best I can.
When the tantrums happen, I stay calm, acknowledge the feeling and redirect. I don't know if that's right but it's what I do. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. It's when things get complicated that I have my discipline dilemmas. Allow me to illustrate:
Last week, we were in the Kansas City airport waiting for our flight to Philly. I was traveling alone with the Assault Stroller, my mom bag and a small backpack for my laptop.
This thing is a monster, but I sure do love it on uneven sidewalks!
It was either bring it or be without it for six weeks and that was not an option.
I NEEDS my stroller!
Our flight was during the morning nap - Strike One, but unavoidable because there were only two nonstops to Philly from KC. If I had to choose between a nonstop flight during naptime or a flight with stops around naps, it's the nonstop. Always. Traveling with a toddler is enough of a nightmare without plane changes being thrown into the mix.
After the monumental hassle that is getting through security with a behemoth stroller, taking out the laptop, going barefoot, take off your watch and jewelry, take the baby out of the stroller, make sure she stays close, put all your shit in fifty different bins, pray to Jesus you don't set off the buzzer, get your stroller patted down because it won't fit through the scanner, collect your shit from the fifty different bins and get dressed again, guess who got a taste of freedom and didn't want to get back in the stroller?! Strike Two and first Discipline Dilemma.
So I assessed. Our gate was at a dead end. It was morning so there weren't that many people around. Do I force her back into the stroller and have her wig out or let her run around, and hopefully get out all her energy so she'll be chill on the tiny plane on our long-ass flight to Philly?
I chose run around. I parked the stroller in a corner and set up camp. I put my wallet and phone in my back pocket, said a prayer over my purse and laptop and let the baby go.
At first, she stayed close because I bribed her with the food I'd brought for the flight. But once her belly was full, it was explorin' time. I let her run, always trailing close and anytime she got close to someone, I scooped her up or herded her in a different direction. I think my kid is the most awesome kid on the planet, but I don't expect anyone else to and I don't want her cramping anyone else's style.
We were cool until a family showed up and sat near us. They had two daughters, I'd say about six and maybe nine. I was toast because Sofia loves big kids. She's intrigued by babies, but she loves big kids and a six-year old is just her speed. She zeroed in on the six year old and that was it. I pulled her away from them at least seven or eight times, always apologizing and trying to get Sofia interested in something else, but to her there was nothing more interesting in the world than big kids. So I was that mom - Come on Sofia, come over here and play! Sofia, I have super fun toys for you over here! Sofia, that doesn't belong to you. Sofia, you can play with mommy's bag, that one isn't yours. Sofia, that's enough. Sofia. Sofia. Sofia!!
What made it worse was that the mom and dad were so cool. Oh, she's fine! Don't worry! She's so cute!
Discipline Dilemma: I want to teach my daughter to respect other people's space and things no matter what, but the other people in question are cool with her invading their space and things. What do I do when I'm the one who's not cool with it? You know, because of germs, disease and Stranger Danger. I really just want to mind my own business with my kid until it's time to board.
Then the six year old pulls out a snack pack that I pray she bought at the airport and not from home, although either way it skeeved me out. It was carrots, ranch and grapes. Sofia saw the grapes in the hand of the big kid and that was it. "Bite! Bite!" "Sofia, we have our own food over here. Come on, mommy will give you some food if you're still hungry."
*Take the kid's hand to walk her away from the Big Kid With The Grapes, she snatches her hand away. Take the hand again, she sits down. Pick up the kid, she whips out the Stiff-Body-Arched-Back move. Tantrum is imminent. Look at watch, twenty minutes until boarding starts. Pray to baby Jesus.*
Then, the kiss of death: "It's okay Sofia, I'll share my grapes with you." Then the dad was all, "Really, it's fine. She can have some grapes."
PISS. PissPissPissPiss. *Now* what do I do? The six year old is being nice, probably making her parents proud for sharing with a strange kid and I'm going to be PunkAssMom because I'm all germs! disease! stranger danger! where are your manners!
"Oh thank you so much sweetie, but we have snacks over here, you're so kind!" She barely hears me over the screeching howler monkey that has suddenly possessed my daughter.
I'll spare you the internal brow-beating I gave myself about screwing up this teaching moment, about how I should have been firmer, how I should have gathered our things and moved to another part of the waiting area, how my kid is probably never going to learn manners because I gave in.
Yup, I'm that mom. She screeched and instead of letting her throw a Master Fit, I let my daughter take some (PleaseGodDon'tLetThemBeDiseased) grapes from a strange kid in an airport and she was never happier. She even said "Thenk Yeew!" She was so proud and I was so defeated.
I'm trying to be strong. I got my oil changed today and when Sofia climbed on the chairs in the waiting room after I told her not to, I put her in time out right then and there. She screeched and cried but I got my minute. She threw a fit in the grocery store when I wouldn't give her my phone and I carried on about my business, ignoring her and she eventually gave up. Tonight after dinner, she got too close to the fireplace in the apartment. Drew told her to move away from it, she looked at him and smiled and purposefully stepped closer! She got a time-out for that one too, but if you could have seen that kid's face? She knew what the hell she was doing.
And she's only one! I know she's testing us, finding our boundaries and learning limits, but she's well on her way to spending her formative years in time out!
I guess there's not much else to do but keep at it and pray. But boy I tell you, after spending fifteen minutes wrestling with her to get one minute in time out, I am pooped! And then! When it's over and she puts her little arms around my neck and squeezes me like I know you hate me, but I still love you! Good GAWD, it's enough to make me want to give up!
Does it ever get easier? Hint: Say yes, because otherwise I'm becoming a shut-in, Sofia's getting homeschooled and we're not going to have contact with anyone else EVER.
