Sock Hell

I'm jumping on board Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. One of the prompts for today was to write about socks. (Ok, so it was supposed to be a funny story about socks.)

I'm sure it will be, to you. In fact, I'm sure that in about - oh, say - 10 years, it will be to me as well.

Right now? Not so much.

As you may know by now, Pea is the QUEEN of the tantrum. (She would say "no, I'm the PRINCESS").
Whatever.  The fact of the matter is that on a near daily basis, for the past three months or so, we have had meltdowns of EPIC proportions. Anything could trigger it - it could be something small, say, I opened her curtains. It could be something big - I might have made my bed before she came to snuggle with me in the morning. It may be indeterminable.

Most recently, it has been her socks.

They hurt her feet. They are too small. They are too tight. They are too big.
They are crooked.

They get between her toes. (And, no, its not strings. I've checked.)

They are (gasp): STUPID.

(Author's note: this word is NOT allowed in my house. )

Seriously, there is so much drama going on regarding her feet, I need to get a video of her - throwing them across the room, only to put them on again - so she can take them off. And throw them. At me. Or bite them, tugging them between her teeth like a dog with a rope toy. Or empty the entire drawer onto the floor, yelling "stupid, stupid, stupid. I hate them ALL." And then getting really ticked off when I refuse to put them back for her.

Right now, she has THREE pairs of socks that do not bother her. (Most days.) Coincidentally, they happen to be princess socks. (The irony, right?)

I'd laugh about it, if we weren't perpetually late for school because her socks aren't right. Its really so ridiculous, I should be laughing. But that just pisses her off all the more.

Sooo.....if anyone has pointers on how to handle the Sock Diva, you just pipe in right now, 'kay?

In the meantime, I'm off to the factory outlet, where I found them for £1 for 2 pair. She's going to open her drawer, and find it full of Sleeping Beauty, Belle and Ariel socks - and nothing else. If you hear fireworks coming from the Welsh border, yeah, its just us.

And our socks.

Motherhood is a Blessing. Right?

I love my kids. I really do.

But somedays (like every morning at 8am) they can drive me absolutely mad. Cuckoo.
Nutso.

And, really, when I say "they", I mean Pea. (I'm just trying to stay fair and not single one out, but I can't).

My daughter is a sight to behold in the mornings. Seriously, I contemplate giving HER some coffee to start her morning, because its just that bad.

Don't get me wrong - she is a lovely, happy little girl. I knwo this, because she can turn that temper OFF just as quickly as she turns it on, and then she is the sweetest thing outside of a candy store. Like a big, squishy, huggy lump of chocolate.

Mmmmm.....chocolate.....

Sorry. (Focus......)

So dealing with tantrums means striking a balance of trying not to lose my temper and instead see the humor in the situation - without laughing. Because that would make her go through the ceiling, and then she gets completely unmanageable!

You tell me how difficult this would be....

• when your daughter is biting her underpants (in hand, not while wearing them, although that would be even funnier) and then throwing them against the wall, while yelling "these are STUPID! Throw them AWAY"
• when she's lying naked in the middle of her hot pink furry area rug, rolling around yelling "I am NOT getting dwessed and I am NOT going to school"
• when she is sitting on the bottom step, arms crossed, bottom lip stuck out far enough to land a small bird on, one shoe on, one shoe against the opposite wall where she has thrown it after yelling "I'm NOT going to school"

The only reason I can keep from laughing is because I'm seriously pissed at the same time.

Since I know that the minute we pull into the car park by school, she'll be bouncing out of the car, yelling hello to her friends and screeching their names, and running into school, happpy to be there.

I'm told that they see her as a happy, confident little girl - one who clearly knows her mind.

So I won't take it personally.

But, believe me, while I know that it is a blessing to have these two wonderful kids and get to experience everything through their eyes, there are days that it feels less like a blessing and more like penance, for every moment of grief we ever gave our parents.

And for that, Mom and Dad, I am truly, really sorry.

Temper Tantrums

I am thoroughly frustrated.

Pea has been having some massively fantastic temper tantrums of late. They are not only frustrating, energy draining, and headache promoting, but they leave me feeling utterly helpless and worthless in the parental department.

Getting her out the door is a battle. Getting her into her car seat, another battle. Shoes on? Forget it.

(Oh, and her Crocs are getting too tight, but she currently won't wear any other shoes - this, from the girl who used to have more shoes than I did. And I LOVE shoes.) Today, she pulled off her socks in the car, so she could get her Crocs on. God help me, please, when those shoes truly become too small. Yes, the next size up is in the closet, but since it is fall, I really don't want to let on about them.

I've tried threatening. I've tried taking things away. I've tried flat-out bribery. Nothing. There is no motivator strong enough for her. Yelling doesn't work - and while it is definitely something I do not want to do, lets be honest, after so long, sometimes it just erupts in a fit of mutual frustration.

I tweeted about this the other night. There are some fantastic moms in the Twitter community, and with the vast range of experiences, someone might have an idea, right? One that I haven't tried?

Well, not quite.

What I did find, however, was that I'm NOT alone in this boat, sinking in a sea of whine and tantrums. (And yes, I know my child is not the only one to have meltdowns; however, she IS the only one having them in my house, with me, and since I'm not seeing others on the playground or the car park, I'm losing perspective.) And other moms out there are equally frustrated.

Says lukasmom who writes the blog Drama for Mama "our girls must be clones. Mine is 4.5 and the tantrums should be filmed for "The Nanny" show. I am out of ideas. Nothing works".

Iceinmamilk offered to swap kids with me, as she is having the same issues. But she has 2 girls. I respectfully declined.

Jenniewrenbird and Kingdomfirstmom ALWAYS have excellent suggestions. Jennie keeps me laughing, and Alyssa keeps me grounded, and has a great blog here.

Thismomsguide who writes a blog of the same name, also suffers - er - is blessed with a gorgeous red-headed 3 yr old. She had support to offer, and commiseration, which I needed.

Bottom line is that part of her problems are hunger-related, some are fatigue-related, and the rest is a power struggle. Ignoring her, and walking away is the best thing, but my Mommy brain has a really, really hard time with ignoring her. And walking away isn't safe when she won't get out of the car at the car park. And believe me, i can get in the car and start it, and we can have a 20 minute standoff for her to GET. In. THE. CAR. And she won't.

And then I have to carry her to the car, kicking and screaming, forcibly buckling her in, and life in fear of a neighbor to misconstrue it all and call the police or child welfare on me.

There really should be a Tantrums Anonymous group.
A Coping with Tantrums parenting course.
Paxil handed out when your child turns Three.

Something.

I mean, if you could see what I will have to go through to get a drivers license in this country, you would be shocked. Its enough to motivate me to walk more. (Getting my kids to cooperate with this line of thinking, especially once the winter rains start, is a different story.) So why more training and licensing for parenting isn't in place, I'm quite astounded.

Really, now, wouldn't a counsellor run boot camp be as effective in those prepregnancy months as the Lamaze classes? Oh, I'm not talking about the how to raise your kids bit.

I'm talking about how to manage yourself, and your own psyche (without dipping daily into the liquor cabinet).