A Breakdown of Success

There are many times in my travels though motherhood when I feel that I have made a wrong choice. Times when I have allowed my anger to control my actions and or my voice. Times when I have wanted to give up, times when I have locked my own windows and doors and hid my keys so I could not give up and run. I have three girls. Emotions are pretty high in this little household and as the years go on I am pretty darn sure they are going to get even higher. With that being said I must add to my pile the fact that I am a passionate person and I think my daughters have received that gift from me. The problem with passion is that if you can not learn to control it, it will control you. In the same way that I link the words, charity, hope, and love; I link passion, stubbornness, and anger. If you are passionate about something you often are stubborn about that very same thing and when you allow your passion and stubbornness to mix in a volatile situation, well, the result is anger. Anger is not always bad. Uncontrolled anger that spews from every pore of your body however, rarely ends good for anyone.

This week I found myself in two very volatile situations:

Solution one contained the following mixture; a five and a half year old girl, a fun but long morning, a warm beautiful afternoon (not so bad thus far huh...), a shopping trip for summer clothes, and one shirt. So, my eldest was in a major need of clothing appropriate for summer. Our problem is that we hold certain standards of modesty that the world has yet to embrace. Who really wants their five year old to look like they are thirteen anyway? I could write a whole piece on this subject matter, so maybe I will - another day. It is very difficult to find clothing that has any length of sleeves attached to it for the summer. So, I started my quest at a favorite children's store, where there was a sale going on and I had a coupon for an additional 30% off my entire purchase. I set the kids in front the tv provided (sorry all you good moms, there are times when I will use it as a babysitter and this is one of them), and started digging in the sale racks. I had some good finds. I loaded up my arms called for my eldest and headed to the little changing room that is no more than a curtain on a rod about one foot away from the tv. Well my overly shy, emotional, and tired five year old went into freak-out mode when I asked her to take off her top shirt but leave on the tank top that was underneath (the curtain was close all but for a slit that I was standing against, so that I was outside the curtain and she was within). Enter said FREAK-OUT! All of a sudden she decided that her world would cease to spin if that shirt was to be pulled over her head. I felt I handled the breakdown well within the store. (1) I tried to reason with her, 'just lift your arms up and I'll pull it off' (2) I half-way threatened her with the idea that we could not get new clothes if she did not try them on (3) I bargained with her and said I would take her to the bathroom to take it off. All 3 attempts failed. So I took the clothes to the sales lady and asked her to hold them for the next two hours. Then I walked my little troupe down to the public bathrooms where I again tried to take the shirt off. NOT A CHANCE! So out comes the threat: "We are going home if you do not take this shirt off right now!" Through her passionate sobs I drag her back to the car (afraid all the while that I will be accused of child abuse, it's happened before) with my other ducks in tow and drive home. Once at home (after quite a lecture of which she heard very little through her screams and the fact that she had her hands smashed against her ears, least the evil might seep in), I take her inside and again give her a chance to take the shirt off- to no avail. In my mind the notion that this shopping trip must be done today and right now has overwhelmed the reasonable thoughts that are telling me to back down and choose a different battle to fight. And so the battle of wills begins. She is out of control at this point (actually she has been uncontrollable sense we left the store) and I am quickly giving up my control to frustration which is be emitted as anger. The end result is that in my attempt to remove the shirt from her body and her attempts to yank it back onto her body the shirt literally rips. You know how you have certain outfits of your children's that you just love, well this was one of mine, so my heart sinks at the sound. She however sees it as an opportunity to get the shirt off in another way and tears at the rip, stretches hers arms out wide, and before I can let go the shirt is literally ripped off of her little body. RIPPED OFF. Shredded up the left side. I was so angry that I had nothing left. I sank to the floor and sobbed, which in effect freaked her out more than anything and she came running over to apologize while trying to hug me. Here I feel like I failed. Now we did go back and ironically found many great items and stayed under my budget, but I do not see it as a success.

Today, just prior to starting this I was given a second chance. Solution two contained the following mixture; a three year old, a long day, a lot of rain and little chance to play outside, an afternoon filled with friends touching her toys, a dinner that she did not like, and a tired mom. So, our middle daughter was crying about wanting, wanting, wanting, dessert (a banana bar, really frozen yogurt) before dinner. To this I said NO about thirty times. She was finally told to sit on the couch and not move till I finished getting dinner on the table. Well, she began to fall asleep (a very bad thing at this time of night about, 5:38). So her dad rolled her over and told her to stay awake. Apparently that was a mistake. Full on war ensued. She wanted a banana, she wanted juice, she wanted to eat on the couch not at the table, she wanted wanted wanted but definitely did NOT want to listen. This one loses control often and she needs a shock to come back to life. I know it sounds evil but that shock for her is about 2 seconds of a cold shower. So that's what she got. But tonight, not even that was going to make the world spin again. I told her I would give her one more chance to calm down and go eat or she was going off to bed. I finally got her to the table with the promise of a banana along with her dinner. I thought we had made it until I turned and watched the freshly peeled banana begin to break at the middle and start its heartbreakingly slow decent to the floor. This happened in the whole of one second but I saw my evening flash before my eyes. Out came the uncontrollable sobs again and all control was lost. I went so far as to offer her Sprite with dinner thinking it would (1) make her happy and (2) keep her awake at least till 7:30 so the night would not be shot. No luck. I picked her up out of her chair and walked upstairs to her room resolved to stay calm and hold her till she just fell asleep. As I laid there with my legs draped over her lower limbs, my right arm under her head, and my left arm was across her chest to keep her from hitting and scratching my face (cause she is really good at it and it hurts really bad, not to mention the marks it leaves), I started to pray. The music was playing and all I could do was pray.

I prayed for patience, for more love, and a longer fuse. I prayed that my girls would learn to control their emotions and learn how create a longer fuse for their time bombs. Of course I prayed that all this would happened in the next few moments, although I knew that this would be learnt throughout their lives so that when they were moms and they had moments like these, they could choose the right, and be in control. As I have become a mom I have learned that I have a hard time allowing my children to win battles. I have learned to create a longer fuse to my bombs and I have learn things that help me keep control over the emotions that I emit in such situations. Tonight, I was in control. I was calm and collected as she thrashed under me. I kissed her and stroked her hair. I prayed for her and for me. I did not worry or get angry about the fact that I had to now reheat my dinner and eat alone. I did not fume and allow the knowledge that this time lost for her and me, from dad tonight could not be recaptured. I worried only a little, about what our new neighbor might be hearing through the walls and how she would perceive it. Best of all when she did fall asleep in my arms with her head nestled in my chest holding my hand rather than trying to scratch it off, I felt good. I succeeded tonight. I did not win the battle, but I choose the right.