Anna Kate Donovan

We are finally to the point where we don’t have to worry about what our children are doing every waking moment when we’re at home.  Or so I thought…..

We had just finished our lasagna dinner and were all relaxing in the living room for a little while before the girls’ bedtime.  I suddenly realized that I had sent Laura (the 3 and a half year old) to get a tissue 15 minutes ago and she had yet to return.  It was time for Abigail and Hattie to get their pajamas on so I asked them to peek in on Laura and let me know what she was doing.  Almost instantly I hear “MOMMY” echoing down the hallway followed by a cacophony of “lotion”, “wiping”, “floor”, “all over”….

Oh no.  I headed down the hall.  I’m not going to lie and say that I was running.  I was a little hesitant to see what was going on.  I knew she wasn’t hurt so it didn’t seem like I HAD to run, you know?

Before I even got there Laura was sobbing.  “Sorry Mama.  Sorry Mama. Sorry Mama.”  She knew she had done something she wasn’t supposed to do.  She KNEW.

At first sight, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.  Laura was shiny, pink and slick with lotion.  She was frantically wiping her legs off with the bathmat.  It wasn’t working.  She stood up and slid around the floor until she fell.  She wasn’t hurt but she was humiliated.  I finally got her wiped off (do you know how   l  o  n  g   that took?) and started to survey the damage.  Not only was there was lotion ALL over Laura but it was also ALL over the bathroom floor, the floor in the hallway and the floor in Abigail and Hattie’s room.  Luckily there was none on their new rug…that would have been different!  All in all, this was harmless.

I get the feeling she won’t do this again.  I didn’t even get the chance to fuss at her.  She punished herself.  I got her cleaned up and she put herself in time out and has been sticking her bottom lip out about 6 inches ever since.  She’s been wandering around pouting, sighing and being clingy.  Too funny.

I have been around the parenting pool long enough to know that too much silence is usually not a good thing.  I guess I got too confident and thought we were past the minutia management.  WRONG!

At least Laura is smooth as silk head to toe and the whole house smells good.  It could have been SO much worse…..

I don’t know about your children but our girls are always asking to sleep somewhere other than in their own beds.  For instance, they want to sleep in the fort they just built or on pillows in the living room.  It doesn’t usually work out but they ask all the time anyway.  Their most frequent request is to sleep on the air mattress we set up for guests in the playroom.

We have set up the “guest bed” numerous times for visitors since we moved here.  Each time, the girls have asked to sleep on it but it never seems to be a good time.  It’s either a school night when they really need their sleep or one of the girls is sick and it wouldn’t be fair.

My dad was here last week for a couple of nights so the bed was still in the playroom.  It had been taken apart and deflated but I hadn’t gotten it back in the closet yet.  Last Saturday Robert and I devised a plan.  While the girls were in the bathtub, Robert inflated the bed and I put on the sheets.  You should have heard the squeals of delight when we told them to get their pillows and head for the playroom.  It was deafening.

They got in the bed and immediately started calling out the complaints.  “Laura won’t stop tickling me!”  “Hattie is putting her feet on everybody!”  “MOM – I’m trying to sleep and THEY are talking!”  This lasted about 20 minutes.  We didn’t pay much attention.  Within a half an hour, all three were off to dream land.  I checked in on them when we went to bed and they were downright angelic.

It took about 10 minutes of manual labor to get the bed set up and it was more than worth it.  You would have thought we had given these girls a shopping spree at Toys R Us.  They thought it was fabulous.  It wasn’t a fancy hotel or friends house…it was just something a little different.  It doesn’t take much to make these girls happy.  Last weekend they got to stay outside all day, eat dinner on the deck and sleep on the guest bed.  Score one for a perfect weekend!

Just so you’re prepared, I’m probably going to step on some toes and anger some of my readers but that’s a chance I’m going to have to take.

This morning, Laura and I were sitting in the pharmacy waiting for a prescription to be filled.  There was a mother with her two young sons sitting near us.  The little boys were not sitting still but they were not being bad either.  The main problem was they were sharing a chair and couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.  Completely understandable for two boys under the age of 5.  Honestly that’s understandable for boys of any age!  I could tell from their mother’s expression that she had run out of patience before she got out of bed this morning.  I can commiserate.  We’ve all had days like that.  Unfortunately her patience meter was not just running low, it was into negative numbers.  When one of the boys poked the other for the fiftieth time she announced that she would “yank off this belt and tear your butt up.”  Of course this got a reaction.  She was neither kidding nor exaggerating.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had followed through right then and there.  The boys sat straight up and didn’t dare breathe.  The reaction from Laura was visceral.  She hid her face in my chest and clung to me with all of her might.  She might not have understood the woman’s words but she understood her tone.  Her message was loud and clear.  It was also clear that those boys knew exactly what she meant.

We had a similar experience just after moving here.  We did not have our washer and dryer hooked up yet so I loaded up baskets of dirty clothes and headed to the laundromat with the girls.  A woman there gave her little boy a spanking that I will never forget right there in the middle of the laundromat.  It was horrible.  This little boy was only about 15 months old.  He had no idea what was happening.  Laura had a reaction similar to the one she had this morning.  She was truly afraid.  Abigail and Hattie couldn’t figure out what was happening and I was without an explanation.  I got my children out of there as fast as I could.

In both cases all that was needed was a little redirection.  The baby boy in the laundromat needed a nap.  Or a little book or toy.  Or a walk around the store.   The boys in the pharmacy needed to be separated.  There was no need in either case to threaten or mistreat.  I was so very sad for those boys…and for their mothers.  I also felt like we were intruding even though we were in a public place.  It seemed like we were watching something that no one is supposed to see…like looking at a car wreck.

I have no problem with discipline.  Sometimes we need more in our house.  Other times I feel like I’m too hard on the girls.  We try to find a balance.  There are times when we’re not patient enough and one or both of us loses our temper.  I can safely say that I’ve never had the thought to hurt my child to “teach a lesson”.  In neither case I mentioned above was this discipline.  This was severe punishment for minor offenses.

I know that spanking was used as the fundamental method of discipline for many years.  Some people still choose that as their primary discipline.  We spank on the rarest of occasions and when we do it is a mild pop on the behind that is meant to send a message, not to leave a physical or emotional scar.  I know that many people were raised differently than I was and that they have chosen to raise their children differently than we have.  I have no issue with that.  But harming, humiliating or terrorizing your child is never justified.  The boy at the laundromat was legitimately afraid.  You could see it in his little round face.

This is a touchy subject but there is a solution for every situation.  Each family is different and each dynamic requires an individual plan.  Discipline requires consistency and patience, limits and boundaries, truth and consequences.  It also requires love and acceptance, forgiveness and praise.  Children have to know what they have done right as well as what they have done wrong.

I try my hardest not to judge people.  Especially those I don’t know.  You never know what the back story might be.   In some occasions I cannot help myself.  My brain sees something and immediately forms an opinion.  It’s up to me to decipher the information and come up with a fair point of view.  I’m sure that these little boys are not thrashed every waking hour of their lives.  I hope they are shown love and affection.  I do know that if my girls ever cowered in fear of me, I would be devastated.

As parents, we are responsible for molding our children in thought, word and deed.  We are supposed to support them and make them feel secure.  It is not an easy task.  It is endless and exhausting.  Children have the job of making us into better parents.  They are responsible for testing us and for pushing our boundaries until the right spot is found for the family fence.  In return for challenging us, children teach us about unconditional love and finding happiness in the simplest of things.  Their part of the bargain is not always easy either.  We parents are stubborn and convinced that we are always right.  (we’re not!)

After all I have said I want to add that I don’t think my views are better than anyone else’s.  They are just MY views.  They do not belong to my parents, my brothers, you or my friends.  They are just my thoughts and opinions.  I am not trying to tell anyone how they should run their life or discipline their children.  I am merely putting my own view of the world out there.  That is the point of this blog.

I am also not a perfect parent.  Far from it.  I lose my temper.  I let things slide that should be dealt with.  I don’t always clean up the mess I just made.  I procrastinate.  I don’t always put the needs of others before my own trivial wants.  I’m human.  So are you.

I love my daughters with all of my being.  Robert and I are so lucky to have them in our life.  I hope that they are confident in their parents and know just how much we love them.  After all, that is the most important part…..

If you have young children, you’re probably familiar with the concept of counting to three to give your child the chance to do something themselves.  For example, “Laura, it’s time to pick a story to read for nap time.”  “I don’t want to.”  “I’m going to count to 3.  If you haven’t picked a story, I’ll pick it for you.”  This usually results in a glare from the 3 year old.  So I say, “ONE.”  And she’s off…running to her room to pick a book.  Heaven forbid Mommy pick the story!  I have yet to get past TWO with Laura.  She hasn’t pushed me that far….yet.  She will eventually, that is a given.  Truth be told, I’ve only gotten to THREE a few times in the eight and a half years that I have been a mother.

The counting tactic still works on Abigail and Hattie, much to my surprise.  Abigail is a procrastinator.  Especially at bed time.  It is not her fault.  She inherited the procrastination gene from both sides.  When bed time rolls around, she is usually giggly and we are no longer feeling tolerant.  She will dance around the living room…or fall on the floor and pretend that she can’t get up…or pretend that she doesn’t hear us…or act like she is “helping” her sisters do something (we know this is an act because her sisters are loud protesters of unwanted “help”).   It doesn’t take me long to get to “ONE!”  She knows that means business.  No more shenanigans.  Mom is done.

Hattie’s crime that results in a “ONE” is usually cleaning up.  She detests cleaning up.  It’s getting better but it still occasionally results in some parental encouragement.

The punishment of getting to THREE isn’t that bad.  Usually it involves time out and losing computer time or dessert.  Maybe it still works because I don’t use it all the time.  Maybe because my tone in the counting game (at least with the older two) is much more serious.  I’m not smiling.  Like I said, when Mom starts counting, Mom is DONE.

Now, I really should get off the computer and get back to de-germing the house from our battle with the cold and fever bug this weekend.  But I don’t want to….but I need to….ONE…TWO…………

PS – I have to give my husband credit for the idea of this blog.  I dealt out a “ONE” the other night at bed time and he just looked at me and said “the power of one”.  So, thanks honey!

I love my children deeply and unconditionally but if I get coughed on, sneezed on, or breathed on anymore this weekend, I’m going to hurt somebody.

Two of my daughters have heinous colds.  The third daughter is starting to sniff so I know her turn is coming.  The older two girls are miserable.  There have been fevers, coughing fits, lots of sighing, runny noses and the occasional loud moan.  I feel horrible for them.  It makes me ache to see them feeling bad.  I would much rather be the sick one watching them dance around from the sofa.  But that is yet another thing I have no control over.  They are sick and feeling awful and there’s not much I can do about it.

Robert was out on errands for the majority of the day yesterday so I was the only “nurse” on duty in our home hospital wing.  I got the girls juice and pampered them while they snuggled on the sofa and watched movies.  I made sure they had medicine when they needed it and did all of those things that moms of ailing children do.  The day went by and everyone seemed to be feeling better.  Of course we had another round of fevers during the night so obviously, we’re not done yet.

Watching your children suffer is one of the banes of parenthood.  Eventually your loved ones will be disappointed or sick or hurt and there’s nothing you can do about it.  Of course, we do not live in an ideal world.  Life is full of heartache, illness, disappointment and sadness.  As parents, we have to let our children learn to deal with these things.  I’m not embarrassed to admit that if it were up to me I would shield them from all of the bullies in life but I know that would lead to disaster!

For now, I just have to plod along refilling juice cups and spraying Lysol as I go.  Hopefully today will be the last day.  We can only hope that everyone rests well and fights off the cold gremlins.  They are certainly nothing to sneeze at!   🙂

On Monday I picked Laura up from preschool.  After we had the usual Q & A session about her day, she said “Mommy…you know what?” (long pause) “Russ said butt.”  What exactly was I supposed to say to that?  I was trying not to laugh my own butt off!  So I gathered myself (a lot easier when we’re in the car and she can’t see my face) and said that that was not a nice thing to say.  Laura could not have agreed more.  Still, she told me about Russ’ new favorite word several more times that afternoon.

In the grand scheme of things, “butt” is pretty harmless.  That being said, I don’t want it in my children’s standard vocabulary.  They know the words they are not supposed to say.  At this point in their lives that includes stupid, hate, dumb and shut up.  The last one is on TV a LOT.  I didn’t realize how much until it became an issue.  We do not use that phrase and the girls have only said it once or twice but they hear it more than I’d like.

The funny part is that the girls think it’s their duty to tell us whenever a word on the “do not say” list is uttered.  I thought Laura was going to have a conniption waiting for me to get out of the bathroom this morning so she could tell me that someone had said a bad word.  They have become the curse cops.  They have also associated saying bad words with people who are not nice.  This mostly pertains to Hattie, the kindergartner.  There are several little boys in her class at school who are bad in general.  The majority of the boys in her class (and a couple of the girls) are not sweet little children.  But there are a couple that are bad.  No other word will suffice.  These are the ones who wait for the teacher to turn her back before they throw out their favorite swear word.  Hattie thinks this is repulsive.  Fine by me.  If she can learn to stay away from this type early, she may save herself some heartbreak later on!

So for now I am doing my best not to laugh in my daughters’ faces as they tattle on the latest swearer.  And watch every word I say….the cops are out there!!

A couple of hours ago, Hattie came walking through our kitchen where I was putting away groceries.  Laura was right behind her.  Here was their dialogue:

Hattie:  “Mooooooommmmmmmmmm!”

Laura:  “Mooooooommmmmmmmmm!”

Hattie:  “Laura’s copying me.”

Laura:  “Laura’s copying me.”

Hattie:  “Stop it Laura!”

Laura:  “Stop it Laura!”

What did I do?  I laughed.  And laughed. And laughed.  I couldn’t help myself!  I already told you that I’m not a candidate for mother of the year.

What is it about annoying someone you love just because you can?  Why do we drive each other to the brink of insanity for the kick of it?  This time I was laughing out of relief that I wasn’t the victim.  I am the prey in the copy-everything-you-say game a lot at our house.  It started when Abigail was 3.  I don’t know where she heard it or how she thought of it but we went through a period of about a month when she loved that game.  She would follow me around the house like a little puppy and mimic every word I uttered.  I know why she loved it – she always got a great reaction from me.  This game is one of those things that frustrates me every time.  There’s no explanation – it scrambles my brain waves or something.  I’m sure it’s just payback from pestering my brothers when I was little.

When Hattie turned 3, she started following Abigail around echoing her every word.  Abigail was repaying for doing it to me.  Now it’s Hattie’s turn.  As with everything she does, Laura is relentless.  She waits until Hattie is happily playing or drawing and makes her move.  I can’t do anything to stop her and as frustrating as it is, the whole thing is pretty harmless.  When Laura has a 3 year old of her own, I’m sure there will be payback for the torture she is now unleashing on her sister.

Like most things in parenthood, this too shall pass.  Until then, we’ll just have to put up with the echo…

Oh boy.  We’ve done it now.  We’ve gone and spoiled the children.  Again…..

Last weekend it was cold.  REALLY cold.  We turned on our gas fireplace and stayed inside.  As a special treat, I made hot chocolate from scratch.  I used the recipe on the box of Hershey’s cocoa.  Holy Toledo, it is GOOD.  I’ve had this once before as an adult (I’m sure I had it as a child but I don’t remember).  Last New Year’s, we were visiting our friends Mark and Lara.  We had just come in from a walk in the cold wind and Mark whipped up a batch of this cocoa.  Granted, I am a confessed chocoholic but this was above and beyond.  Of course the girls LOVE it.

This morning, Robert made fancy french toast for the girls for breakfast.  We had some leftover french bread that we let sit out overnight.  He made batter with eggs, cream, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and vanilla.  Once again it was fabulous.  The girls ate it like it was their last supper.

We try our best not to spoil our children.  We occasionally go overboard with birthdays and Christmas but in our day to day lives, we do not give them everything they want.  We do not buy toys.  What toys they have, they must share with each other.  Robert does not bring back gifts every time he goes out of town.  We help the girls with their manners.  We do not order from TV commercials.  We usually have at least one item on the dinner plate that someone doesn’t like (not on purpose, mind you).  We do not go out to eat regularly.  We lead a pretty simple life.

There’s a point around here somewhere….

My point is that if we take a few extra minutes to make something yummy from scratch or warm towels after bath time, are we really spoiling them?  We make sure that they know how fortunate they are to have family that loves them, food on the table, clothes on their back and a roof over their heads.  They know that many children in the world have none of those things.  That’s good parenting, right?

You know, that cocoa recipe makes way more than the girls can drink…we might just have to have some this afternoon!  Yum!

Earlier today our middle daughter, Hattie, had an outpatient procedure to put tubes in her ears and remove her adenoids.  In the grand scheme of things it was not a big deal.  We have been through this twice before.  Hattie had her first set of tubes 3 weeks after her 1st birthday.  Laura got tubes less than a year ago.  Hattie breezed through and is already feeling and hearing better.  No biggie.  Our past experiences made today much easier for us as parents.  This wasn’t the case when Laura got her pacemaker two years ago.

As many of you know, Laura was born with 3rd degree heart block.  In lay terms, it is an electrical problem.  The top and bottom halves of her heart do not communicate with each other about what her heart rate should be.  She will have a pacemaker to correct this problem for the rest of her life.  (I know that I am being overly simplistic.  It’s easier for writer and reader alike, I promise!)

As parents, we have a heavy burden.  There is a lot involved with raising children.  It is an enormous responsibility to be “in charge” of the life of a child.  In our house of girls there is a lot of drama and a lot of cleaning up – both physically and otherwise.  Robert and I have gotten pretty good at managing the chaos.  Some days are better than others and some days we’d rather forget altogether.  But for the most part we’re successful…and busy.

When it was time for Laura’s surgery, we felt helpless.  In all the things that needed to be done, the only thing we could do was get her to the hospital on time.  Everything else was out of our hands.  We handed over our 13 month old baby and were forced to put our trust in the staff of doctors and nurses.  We had to have faith.  In modern medicine.  In others.  In whatever is out there that is bigger than we are.  In the unknown.  In our daughter.  In ourselves.  It was not easy but we survived.  Laura is doing great.  She is a stellar patient and has amazed more than one cardiologist.

This morning when the nurse came to wheel Hattie back to the OR for her procedure, Hattie flashed me a smile and a little wave as she rolled down the hall towards the big double doors.  I got that all too familiar feeling.  There is some cliche involving heartstrings…it felt like a little tug.  Once again, I was reminded of my deep and unending love for this little girl.  And I had to have a little faith….

Hattie and Dr. Hellstrom

All my 3 year old had to do was tell me she was sorry.  That’s it.  I’m sorry.  Two little words.  So why did it take half an hour?

Laura was sitting on her bed crying because she didn’t want to be in trouble.  We explained that if she said she was sorry, she wouldn’t be in trouble anymore.  Apparently that wasn’t convincing.

Laura is learning to control her anger.  As in – it is okay to be angry, upset, frustrated, what have you.  It is NOT okay to hit, bite, kick, lock yourself in your room, scream or throw things.  It is also a requirement to apologize when necessary.  Pretty simple from an adult perspective.  Not so simple when you’re three.  I know this.  I don’t understand her confusion but I know that it is there.  The moment when Laura “gets” this concept is on the horizon.  Robert and I have survived this phase twice before.  We just have to be consistent and patient.  Waiting 30 minutes for a pitiful “I’m sorry” is just part of the deal.

So why is it so hard to say that you’re sorry?  Is it fear of the other person’s reaction?  Is it because it is an admission of wrongdoing?  I think the latter is probably more realistic.  Nowadays, most people spend their youth learning in school.  Then they spend the rest of their career proving what all they know.  It would make sense that as we get older and more experienced it would be more difficult to admit a wrong.  That obviously doesn’t apply to Laura.  She hasn’t even been to kindergarten yet!

A few hours ago, after an excruciating wait, Laura finally uttered those two magic words and was allowed out of time out.  It is over and forgotten.  She is now asleep and if you peek at her precious face you would swear she’s an angel.  She is.  Maybe I’m biased.  Sorry!