Arrrrgggghhhh. For the third time in her life, Elizabeth is grounded. For what? Lying to me about where her toothpaste was this morning. Sounds absurd, huh? But there it is. Her sisters wanted to borrow her toothpaste - since theirs was empty, and she hid it from them. More specifically, she hid it in her sister's room, in a basket that Kate keeps her softball gear in. I discovered all this after the twins came to me and said Elizabeth wouldn't share her toothpaste. I asked her to do so, and back came the twins minutes later to tell me that now the toothpaste was apparently missing. Upon questioning Elizabeth - and let me tell you I was very clear that I was very unhappy to be dealing with this - she denied knowledge of said toothpaste's whereabouts. Repeatedly. Finally, after I threatened her with a spanking - which I have not had to administer to her more times than you can count on one hand in her entire life - she came clean and retrieved the toothpaste from the basket.
I hate lying. Almost everything that really really upsets me/pisses me off/angers me hugely has something to do with lying. It completely destroys my ability to trust. And I am by nature a trusting soul. I have a tendency to give people the benefit of the doubt. It's my positive glass half full mindset. Which I guess is why it upsets me so much when I am lied to. The other thing that really sets me off is related to respect, and the lack of it that is shown in so many situations. Of which I believe lying is one.
Anyway, she is grounded for a month. No playdates, no birthday parties, no TV, no video games. She is only allowed to leave her room to use the bathroom, to eat, or do chores. I plan to have her picking up a lot of dog poop just to make sure she doesn't feel I am denying her opportunities for fresh air.
Am I over reacting? I don't think so. I know it was just toothpaste, but it might as well have been a hundred dollars as far as I'm concerned. I will not tolerate lies, and everyone in this house needs to understand that. Everyone.
So I guess I have a personal slave for the next month, which sounds not so bad except that I feel so shitty about the whole thing...damn, sometimes it really sucks to be consistent and follow through...
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Thursday, April 12, 2012
ups and downs
I guess I am so surrounded by my girls that I tend to assume that moodiness is a female specific trait sometimes. Then Mike comes home after a not so great day, and I have to remind myself that grumbling, drama and negativity are definitely not just for women. In fact, sometimes he is the worst of all of us, when it comes to being in a crappy mood. When he's down, he's really down, and then it generally manifests into anger. Anger at what someone on the tv says, anger at the new dog who unfortunately for Mike happens to be afraid of men, anger at my inability to respond to his mood in a way that pleases him. Once he gets on a roll, it's hard to stop the ride. If I can't bring him down, which I often can't because my own mood is one of exasperation, and generally just being really annoyed that he is being a shit, then it escalates into a rant of some kind, which I then just have to walk away from.
Okay, so we are all moody from time to time. And that in itself is not necessarily a terrible thing. Life is about balance, right? You need some downs now and then to appreciate the ups. The trick, to me, is to figure out when and how to pull out of a "down" mood, and get back to an "up". There's a great line in a great song by Gotye that goes like this,
"You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness."
I think that sums it up perfectly. We all have our sad moments, but some of us have sad hours, even sad days, or worse. I think I live with at least two people who struggle with an overabundance of sadness, and I wonder, are they happiest when they're unhappy? Sometimes it seems that way. It almost seems like they fear happiness, like it's too good to be true and it's sure to end at any moment, so why get too attached to it?
Ugh. Sometimes it's overwhelming. I am not always a happy person by any means, I get bitchy and cranky and tired, especially at the end of the day, just like lots of people. But I do feel that I am the glass half full person in my marriage. And I would say that two of my daughters are like me in that respect. The third, well, she was just one of those people born with a thundercloud over her head. Her father is the same, although it took me a long time to realize that. I suppose we all need each other, or we upbeat types would just be happy all the time...hmmm. That last sentence smacks of desperate rationalization. A classic comment from a classic "look on the bright side" person.
Oh well. Onwards and upwards.
Okay, so we are all moody from time to time. And that in itself is not necessarily a terrible thing. Life is about balance, right? You need some downs now and then to appreciate the ups. The trick, to me, is to figure out when and how to pull out of a "down" mood, and get back to an "up". There's a great line in a great song by Gotye that goes like this,
"You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness."
I think that sums it up perfectly. We all have our sad moments, but some of us have sad hours, even sad days, or worse. I think I live with at least two people who struggle with an overabundance of sadness, and I wonder, are they happiest when they're unhappy? Sometimes it seems that way. It almost seems like they fear happiness, like it's too good to be true and it's sure to end at any moment, so why get too attached to it?
Ugh. Sometimes it's overwhelming. I am not always a happy person by any means, I get bitchy and cranky and tired, especially at the end of the day, just like lots of people. But I do feel that I am the glass half full person in my marriage. And I would say that two of my daughters are like me in that respect. The third, well, she was just one of those people born with a thundercloud over her head. Her father is the same, although it took me a long time to realize that. I suppose we all need each other, or we upbeat types would just be happy all the time...hmmm. That last sentence smacks of desperate rationalization. A classic comment from a classic "look on the bright side" person.
Oh well. Onwards and upwards.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
anger management
How many times have I heard myself say "don't play with the doors! Leave the doors alone! Don't slam doors! Someone's going to lose a finger!!!!" ???
Well, it's finally happened. In a classic moody girl fashion, the twins were having an argument over who got to use the bathroom first before we all headed to the neighborhood pool. It was the first day of a two week long spring break, and I had a house full of girls aged 7 - 10, restless and in need of entertainment. I had announced we were going swimming, and went upstairs to put on my bathing suit, thinking I would get a little swim workout in myself whilst the kids goofed off in the "fun" pool. I could hear the voices from the bathroom below, gradually raising in volume as a typical scenario played out - as in I'M going to the bathroom! Well, I NEED TO GO FIRST! NO YOU DON'T, I NEED TO GO FIRST!! and so on. The fact that we have two other bathrooms in the house is apparently completely irrelevant. I sighed, adjusted the straps on my suit and was about to open my mouth and call out to the girls to please stop the fighting when the screams started.
Now as a parent you just get to know the difference between screams and SCREAMS. Hopefully you rarely get to hear the latter, but when you do you know it right away. Anyway, 6 little girls can make a lot of noise. My eldest came running (and screaming) up the stairs, followed closely by Kate, who was screaming even louder and crying. More screams rang out from the main floor. I raced downstairs and rounded the corner to the bathroom, where two more girls and Emily stood screaming. Emily was also holding her right hand with her left, and there was way too much blood everywhere.
After scooping Emily up and plopping her on the floor in the kitchen where my freaking out brain could only assume I would be closest to any medical type supplies I might need, I managed to get Elizabeth to tell me what had happened. The battle for the bathroom had escalated and Kate managed to push past Emily into the bathroom, where she turned and slammed the door. Shut. On Emily's finger. Elizabeth fortunately was nearby and raced to open the door again, and the drama commenced. Now, I suppose that perhaps your finger or mine (an adult finger in other words) might have not suffered quite so badly in this particular situation. I don't know. What I do know is that Emily is not an adult, she is a very slight 8 year old girl with fragile, slim, dainty fingers. Without going into terrible gory detail, the door inflicted pretty horrific damage to her poor finger, from the top knuckle up. Horrific enough to exceed my expectations when I attempted to assess the damage, horrific enough for my stomach to do one of those slow flip flops and cause my heart to race even faster than it already was. All I could think to say at that moment was "Em, look away." And she calmly replied as she turned her head, "Okay Mom..."
Anyway, long story that I don't particularly want to relive again short, an ambulance ride to the hospital, xrays, stitches and consults with a plastic surgeon later we are awaiting the unveiling of the finger at the doctor's office later today. It has been a very long week. Not just for me, the worried mom, or for Em, the injured party who has been amazingly brave and calm through all of it, but is terrified of having to endure yet more probing and pain at the hands of the doctor, and for Kate, the guilty party. Kate, who has been displaced from her bed since the accident, as we couldn't have Em attempting to climb up and down to the top bunk, and so therefore we put her in the bottom bunk, which is Kate's. I could have possibly put Em in Elizabeth's bed, except that by Tuesday she had come down with an acute case of tonsillitis and a sinus infection and ended up sleeping with me in my bed for the rest of the week, which meant that hubby had to sleep in her bed. Kate has spent the week alternating between nightly temper tantrums over the loss of her bed, to crying herself to sleep once she is ultimately reminded of why she has lost her bed. Almost like she is flogging herself daily as a form of repentance/guilt over her part in the situation.
Interestingly, Emily is the one who continues to insist to everyone that the whole thing was an accident. Every time she says this, I can hear Kate quietly add, "no it wasn't." And when she weeps at night, she says "I didn't know, I didn't know" over and over again. What a terrible way to learn a lesson. We have warned her so many times that her anger could cause her to really hurt someone, whether she intended to or not.
What I hope for is this. Number one, that Emily's finger will be alright. That she won't have to have part of it amputated, or go through a long, painful healing process. That when they take the bandages off today, it will be on it's way to recovery, without the need for medical interventions. That it won't hurt too much.
Number two, that this will not cause permanent damage to my daughter's relationship with each other. That Em will forgive, and that Kate will feel real remorse.
And three, that in addition to remorse, Kate will ultimately benefit in some way from this. That this will help her in her battle to control her emotions and her actions. I don't want it to haunt her or anything as traumatic as that for the rest of her life, but I don't want her to forget it either. I want her to learn from this and hopefully never ever lash out in anger like that again.
I always joke that drama stalks me at every turn, but this is just a bit too much.
Well, it's finally happened. In a classic moody girl fashion, the twins were having an argument over who got to use the bathroom first before we all headed to the neighborhood pool. It was the first day of a two week long spring break, and I had a house full of girls aged 7 - 10, restless and in need of entertainment. I had announced we were going swimming, and went upstairs to put on my bathing suit, thinking I would get a little swim workout in myself whilst the kids goofed off in the "fun" pool. I could hear the voices from the bathroom below, gradually raising in volume as a typical scenario played out - as in I'M going to the bathroom! Well, I NEED TO GO FIRST! NO YOU DON'T, I NEED TO GO FIRST!! and so on. The fact that we have two other bathrooms in the house is apparently completely irrelevant. I sighed, adjusted the straps on my suit and was about to open my mouth and call out to the girls to please stop the fighting when the screams started.
Now as a parent you just get to know the difference between screams and SCREAMS. Hopefully you rarely get to hear the latter, but when you do you know it right away. Anyway, 6 little girls can make a lot of noise. My eldest came running (and screaming) up the stairs, followed closely by Kate, who was screaming even louder and crying. More screams rang out from the main floor. I raced downstairs and rounded the corner to the bathroom, where two more girls and Emily stood screaming. Emily was also holding her right hand with her left, and there was way too much blood everywhere.
After scooping Emily up and plopping her on the floor in the kitchen where my freaking out brain could only assume I would be closest to any medical type supplies I might need, I managed to get Elizabeth to tell me what had happened. The battle for the bathroom had escalated and Kate managed to push past Emily into the bathroom, where she turned and slammed the door. Shut. On Emily's finger. Elizabeth fortunately was nearby and raced to open the door again, and the drama commenced. Now, I suppose that perhaps your finger or mine (an adult finger in other words) might have not suffered quite so badly in this particular situation. I don't know. What I do know is that Emily is not an adult, she is a very slight 8 year old girl with fragile, slim, dainty fingers. Without going into terrible gory detail, the door inflicted pretty horrific damage to her poor finger, from the top knuckle up. Horrific enough to exceed my expectations when I attempted to assess the damage, horrific enough for my stomach to do one of those slow flip flops and cause my heart to race even faster than it already was. All I could think to say at that moment was "Em, look away." And she calmly replied as she turned her head, "Okay Mom..."
Anyway, long story that I don't particularly want to relive again short, an ambulance ride to the hospital, xrays, stitches and consults with a plastic surgeon later we are awaiting the unveiling of the finger at the doctor's office later today. It has been a very long week. Not just for me, the worried mom, or for Em, the injured party who has been amazingly brave and calm through all of it, but is terrified of having to endure yet more probing and pain at the hands of the doctor, and for Kate, the guilty party. Kate, who has been displaced from her bed since the accident, as we couldn't have Em attempting to climb up and down to the top bunk, and so therefore we put her in the bottom bunk, which is Kate's. I could have possibly put Em in Elizabeth's bed, except that by Tuesday she had come down with an acute case of tonsillitis and a sinus infection and ended up sleeping with me in my bed for the rest of the week, which meant that hubby had to sleep in her bed. Kate has spent the week alternating between nightly temper tantrums over the loss of her bed, to crying herself to sleep once she is ultimately reminded of why she has lost her bed. Almost like she is flogging herself daily as a form of repentance/guilt over her part in the situation.
Interestingly, Emily is the one who continues to insist to everyone that the whole thing was an accident. Every time she says this, I can hear Kate quietly add, "no it wasn't." And when she weeps at night, she says "I didn't know, I didn't know" over and over again. What a terrible way to learn a lesson. We have warned her so many times that her anger could cause her to really hurt someone, whether she intended to or not.
What I hope for is this. Number one, that Emily's finger will be alright. That she won't have to have part of it amputated, or go through a long, painful healing process. That when they take the bandages off today, it will be on it's way to recovery, without the need for medical interventions. That it won't hurt too much.
Number two, that this will not cause permanent damage to my daughter's relationship with each other. That Em will forgive, and that Kate will feel real remorse.
And three, that in addition to remorse, Kate will ultimately benefit in some way from this. That this will help her in her battle to control her emotions and her actions. I don't want it to haunt her or anything as traumatic as that for the rest of her life, but I don't want her to forget it either. I want her to learn from this and hopefully never ever lash out in anger like that again.
I always joke that drama stalks me at every turn, but this is just a bit too much.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
omega 3 update
Well, it's been another month, and I have to say that the only significant change so far still is an improvement in Kate's sleep. She is sleeping through the night most nights now, and therefore sleeping in her own room a lot more often too. Unfortunately I am not seeing any real differences in her other behaviors, such as her temper outbursts, her crying jags, and her aggression towards others. She is still up and down as always. But I will continue to keep her on them, I figure it can't hurt and maybe over some more time it still may help. I'm on them too, and I have definitely slept better since starting them, and possibly am more calm, less moody?? than before. :) My husband would probably beg to differ.
Monday, January 23, 2012
omega 3
I've decided to try something new. After a friend mentioned that she was giving her daughter a regular dose of omega 3 supplements to balance her moods, I decided to check it out and did some reading up on the subject. Since it would appear that we all need to add more omega 3s to our diet to balance out the excess of omega 6s, and much of the literature did indeed state that they had been shown to improve mood imbalances, sleep issues, upper respiratory congestion and skin problems, I went out and bought some flax seed, some fish oil supplements, and a whole whack of seafood. I've been grinding the flax seed and adding it to both Kate's and my yogurt concoction that we both like in the mornings, and to any sauces etc that I make for dinners, plus we've been eating fish for most of our meals now instead of only once or twice a week.
While it's only been a couple weeks, I have noticed that I am sleeping better, quite a bit better actually. Which may in part be because Kate seems to be sleeping much better. As for the moods, well, the jury is definitely still out on that one. I'll have to give it more time. But regardless I do intend to try to keep up the omega 3s with everyone, since they are supposed to help with brain functions - smart food, right? If nothing else we might end up being super intelligent angry people.
While it's only been a couple weeks, I have noticed that I am sleeping better, quite a bit better actually. Which may in part be because Kate seems to be sleeping much better. As for the moods, well, the jury is definitely still out on that one. I'll have to give it more time. But regardless I do intend to try to keep up the omega 3s with everyone, since they are supposed to help with brain functions - smart food, right? If nothing else we might end up being super intelligent angry people.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Free to a good home
This morning I actually put this in my status on Facebook...
After struggling with Kate all morning, doing my damnest to keep her on an even keel, letting her eat the last waffles, giving her my perfect egg that I just cooked for myself, helping her "find" the socks that she had hidden in Elizabeth's dresser, I finally lost it when she freaked out on me while I was trying to brush her hair before putting it in a ponytail. I just couldn't take it any more. So I told her that was it, I was done with her bad attitude, her lack of respect for me and the rest of the family, and the rude way that she constantly speaks to us. I told her until she changes her ways, she will have to fend for herself, because I am tired of her wasting my time and energy. Then I proceeded to finish getting myself ready to leave for school, got my coffee in my go cup and told everyone to head out. Meanwhile Kate was running around in her socks screaming at me to put a ponytail in her hair still. I ignored her and left, scraped the ice off the car windows, closed the doors and drove off down the driveway, leaving her shrieking at me to help her put her shoes on in the open doorway of the basement. Of course, I didn't actually continue to drive, much as I wanted to; I put the van in park, walked back and discovered the door shut and locked. Eventually she opened it back up, and I picked up her backpack, her coat and her shoes under one arm, and picked up her under the other and hauled the whole lot back down the driveway to the van, and chucked her and her gear inside. The whole way to school she shouted at me to give her her shoes, which were on the floor in the front. Once at the school I got out, unloaded the other kids and their stuff and said goodbye and then waited stoically for Kate to emerge from the vehicle. Which she did with shoes and coat on, just as her class was filing inside, joining the end of the line, throwing black looks at me over her shoulder. I'm sure she expected me to follow her in, attempt to hug her or something, but I resisted and maintained my mean mommy demeanor and got back in my van and drove home. Where I posted my "ad" on Facebook, poured myself another cup of coffee and went for a walk outside with the dog, breathing deeply and willing myself not to have a coronary over a 7 year old's power struggle.
If the addage "that which doesn't break you makes you stronger" is really true, I must be fucking superwoman by now.
Free! to a good home: One female, almost 8 years old, big brown eyes, likes to sleep in your bed with you at night, loves lots of attention, would do well in a home without other children or animals, or basically anything that might detract from one nanosecond of your time away from her, reply to momslosthermind@Ineedadrinknow.com
After struggling with Kate all morning, doing my damnest to keep her on an even keel, letting her eat the last waffles, giving her my perfect egg that I just cooked for myself, helping her "find" the socks that she had hidden in Elizabeth's dresser, I finally lost it when she freaked out on me while I was trying to brush her hair before putting it in a ponytail. I just couldn't take it any more. So I told her that was it, I was done with her bad attitude, her lack of respect for me and the rest of the family, and the rude way that she constantly speaks to us. I told her until she changes her ways, she will have to fend for herself, because I am tired of her wasting my time and energy. Then I proceeded to finish getting myself ready to leave for school, got my coffee in my go cup and told everyone to head out. Meanwhile Kate was running around in her socks screaming at me to put a ponytail in her hair still. I ignored her and left, scraped the ice off the car windows, closed the doors and drove off down the driveway, leaving her shrieking at me to help her put her shoes on in the open doorway of the basement. Of course, I didn't actually continue to drive, much as I wanted to; I put the van in park, walked back and discovered the door shut and locked. Eventually she opened it back up, and I picked up her backpack, her coat and her shoes under one arm, and picked up her under the other and hauled the whole lot back down the driveway to the van, and chucked her and her gear inside. The whole way to school she shouted at me to give her her shoes, which were on the floor in the front. Once at the school I got out, unloaded the other kids and their stuff and said goodbye and then waited stoically for Kate to emerge from the vehicle. Which she did with shoes and coat on, just as her class was filing inside, joining the end of the line, throwing black looks at me over her shoulder. I'm sure she expected me to follow her in, attempt to hug her or something, but I resisted and maintained my mean mommy demeanor and got back in my van and drove home. Where I posted my "ad" on Facebook, poured myself another cup of coffee and went for a walk outside with the dog, breathing deeply and willing myself not to have a coronary over a 7 year old's power struggle.
If the addage "that which doesn't break you makes you stronger" is really true, I must be fucking superwoman by now.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Parenting through Neglect
Parenting through neglect. The title says it all. It has truly become the mainstay of my parenting style. I honestly believe that by encouraging my children to entertain themselves within the relatively safe environment of my home, that they are well on their way to becoming independent, imaginative and resourceful people. Yes, sometimes - okay, most of the time - the basement aka the kid zone looks like a bomb literally went off in it, what with the bins full of crayons, markers, papers, ribbons and many other various items with potential for creative transformation, cut up bits of paper on the floor, glue and glitter all over the table and hearth. But I figure it's worth it when I get invited downstairs to the pizza shop they have created for example, complete with take out boxes. Or when I have to help settle a labour dispute caused by Kate firing her sister Emily from the pizza shop, who then went out on her own and opened up a TV shop, and then lured away Kate's employee Jada to go and work for her. Again, I played the role of mediator rather than dictator, allowing each party to air their grievances - Em and Jada were willing to come back to work at the pizza shop if Kate would allow to take their coffee breaks together. This apparently was a sore point for Kate, who was against it as she said the other two would take their coffee break and leave her having to sell the pizza alone, which she didn't like. When they all looked at me I just threw it back to them and asked, well, so what are you going to do about this? and eventually they sorted out the breaks etc and all went back downstairs to sell pizzas and TVs together. How can this not be an invaluable education that will have them well prepared for the real world? And all the while I can just stay upstairs and do whatever I damn well please. Well, pretty much. If cooking dinner, folding laundry and doing the dishes counts. My point is that I COULD just go read a book, dance around the kitchen, or watch Sex and the City re-runs if I wanted to. Because my children are busy ENTERTAINING THEMSELVES. And even better, they aren't even watching TV, or playing video games.I know some would argue that they should be spending more time involved in girl guides and art lessons in addition to the sports that they each already play. But somehow I think we all find it so much more enjoyable to spend that time in more of a free form way, rather than adding on to our already busy scheduled trips to soccer, basketball and curling practices and games. So when my 9 year old calls out from her bedroom "hey mom! how do spell time travel?" I say, how do YOU think you spell it. And when she calls out a moment later, "hey mom, how do you spell machine, with a c or an s?" I say it again, and then smile, wondering when I am going to be called in to go for a trip to another dimension. Now THAT'S the kind of trip I'm up for.
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