I will never be "that" parent

I stood in the doorway as I kissed my daughter goodbye. Parents and children were filing in and out around us. She quickly glanced up at me before scanning the classroom, she looked uneasy. Her little hand was interlocked into mine. I shifted my weight as I released my hand, allowing her the freedom to walk in with her peers.  

I realized today was going to be a bit different than the other days. She was very hesitant and clingy. She wasn't as excited to go to preschool, as all the other days. She appeared sad and withdrawn.

I said to her, "it's time to go play and learn with your friends," while her teacher sauntered her way over towards us. In one quick motion, my daughter dove between my legs and began crying. 

Reason and logic flew out the window as she pleaded and begged me to take her home. 

As any staff member, that isn't the child's parent, would do, they requested that I leave and allow them to take her screaming and crying, because they swore she would eventually stop. With my education background in behavior, my brain immediately began to scan ideas of how to solve this problem following my attachment parenting style. I understood by not making her stay in that classroom, I had the potential to lose any authority ground that I stood on. 

But considering how distressed she looked, I was willing to take that chance.

Mother lion instincts prevailed when the teacher attempted to step between me and my crying daughter (while I was in the hallway trying to calm her down). I promptly raised myself from one knee and swept my daughter into my arms and replied to the teacher, "I'm taking her outside, I'll let you know what I decide."

My emotions ping ponged back and forth as I made every attempt to make the best informed decision as a parent. I had staff telling me to just let my daughter go and she'll eventually stop crying, but my heart ached at that idea. She is 4 years old and I have never let her just "cry it out." That isn't the way I parent. My style is to do everything in my power to comfort and console her so she feels as secure as she possibly can. She doesn't need to "get over it." I always feel like the children that eventually stop crying, are like the infants who stop crying at night -they finally give up realizing no one is coming for them. That thought makes my skin crawl.  Especially when she really doesn't need to be there. She's a young four and I always have the option to red shirt her if she emotionally isn't up to par.

After a half hour of not being able to reason with her. I decided to take her home and try again the next day. She continued to sob in the car as we drove. I tried to distract her by talking about the beautiful fall leaves, but she wasn't ready. When we arrived at home, it took me about an hour to calm her down. I sat on the edge of her bed and opened a dialogue. To a 4 year old, she was pretty traumatized about something and it was my role as a parent to listen to her feelings and not punish her for her feelings.

A child's feelings are never trivial. They are just as important as any adult's feelings.

I eventually discovered the teacher made her nervous and she was scared to be there by herself. Which from a child who rarely goes anywhere without me, is understandable. So, my thought process was to figure out how to make preschool work, without making her "cry it out." 

I brainstormed some ideas with the main person in charge, who was extremely helpful and flexible. She allotted me an incredible amount of freedom to parent my child, my way. We devised a plan that I was to sit out in the hallway during the school hours. If she needed me, I was there for her to hug and reset her emotions. She could do that whenever she felt the need and I could be visible from the desk they seated her in. The purpose of my presence is to help her become comfortable in the classroom again, before I leave her there. 

Which so far, has worked. 

Over the next two days she prevailed, and she felt the positive accomplishment. She smiled an ear to ear grin as she said how happy she was she made it the whole time. 

She yelled, "I did it mommy!" in one of the happiness tones I have ever heard, when the day ended.

I was very proud.

I'm not 100% sure if this gradual separation will work or not. But I'm certain this is the only way I would go about it. Additionally, not only is this solution to a common problem currently working, it's providing my daughter fulfillment that she wouldn't have obtained any other way.

In the end, I hope it works and she goes the required days without mommy. I also hope the gradual separation works because, I would like others to know there is an option for their child. That they don't have to dump the child off and leave. Because realistically, there is other parenting styles. What works for one child, doesn't necessarily work for the other -same as one child isn't like all the others. I will always be more inclined to follow a more nuturing style. As I always say, I will never be a sink or swim parent. I will always find other ways to make things work, because even in adult life, there are other options.

If it doesn't work out, then I will pull her from preschool and re-enroll her in kindergarten next year -at least I know I put in a full effort. A positive part of this age is, a year later can make a world of a difference. If she's not ready, then she's not ready. She doesn't need to be there. I am lucky to be a stay at home mom so I don't have to force her to do something that makes her so uncomfortable. Because let's face it, as adults, we would never put ourselves in any situation that made us so uncomfortable that we break down. If a scenario would ever arise, we would change whatever needed to be, to make it work. So why don't parent's attempt to do the same? Why don't more parents put themselves in their child's shoes? Why aren't they more understanding and sympathetic? Why are children the ones who have to cry it out until they numb themselves to blindly follow anyone's lead?

I don't know about you, but I'll do whatever I can to not be that person. I want to be the parent who relates to their child. Who puts themselves in their shoes and not only sympathizes, but empathizes too. I want my children to be so secure in life, that they have the confidence to take on the world, speak their minds, and love without limits.

Because, how understanding parents are to their children will determine how understanding children are as adults. 

Parents. You are their role model.... Monkey See, Monkey Do.

Because who she is, is an extraordinary 4 year old.

As I was able to steal a moment away and snuggle on the couch for a short, few minutes, I realized the sickness has finally made its way to me. Over the course of an hour, my health depleted and the feeling of a truck running me over sank in. But with the sounds of Penn State football piercing through the background and the kids zooming around on their big wheels, I knew those few minutes of comfort were fleeting.

Those minutes were interrupted by my son wandering around the house saying, "mommy!" on repeat. I held my eyes tightly closed, while the breeze from the crisp fall air was blowing on my legs, I was in my happy place. My husband, who was sitting about 3 feet away on the couch across from me, ignored our son and let him continue on his journey of finding mommy. Apparently, no one would ever suspect me to be in one spot for very long, let alone, laying down.

I could hear my son as he went back into the playroom to my daughter, where he mumbled a few babbled words, but somehow, my daughter understood what he was doing and joined him on the quest.

Within seconds, I felt my daughter standing over me. I squinted at her as she says, "I found mommy!" at the highest voice level known to man kind. My husband then found it appropriate to say, "leave mommy rest for a bit, she doesn't feel well." I laughed at the irony of his late status update, while my son and daughter pounced on me, bombarding me with hugs and kisses. I ended with, "thanks" to my husband.

My daughter is amazing because normally she is the loudest, most talkative child that I currently know, however, she took control and hushed her little brother, while sitting next to me and stroked my hair -occasionally giving me a kiss on my forehead.

She relayed the message to her brother that mommy doesn't feel well and we should be quiet. My son was ok with that and went back to play trains in the playroom. 

Then out of nowhere, my daughter stood up and said, "mommy! I know what will make you feel better." I didn't have a chance to respond before she ran out of the living room, then back in with a handful of books. 

"I'm going to read you every one of these stories until you feel better." I responded with, "sleep would make me feel the best." "No it won't, you silly, books are the greatest." She ended with.

Well kiddo, I can't argue with you on that.

Obviously, I never slept... My husband's football game was much too important and my kiddos were too darn cute. I pulled myself off the couch and lied on the floor of their playroom, while they played by themselves all around me. My son's bubbly, free spirit personality led him to just wander around and occasionally jump on me for hugs, a giggle, then dive off onto the floor. At one point, my daughter even took out her doctor kit in attempt to diagnose me. Plus, she gave me every helpful tip on how to get better...

Homemade chicken noodle soup.
Orange juice.
Kiwi fruits. 
Pineapple juice.
And cucumbers for hydration...

...I found it funny that sleep wasn't on the list. But nevertheless, these are some of the items that are stated to her when she doesn't feel well.

I rarely get sick. In fact, when bedtime arrived, I already felt better. I guess sometimes, even moms need a time out throughout the day and their bodies tell them when enough is enough. I however, just found it beautiful how thoughtful and helpful my daughter was today -at only 4 years old. I swear if she was old enough to cook, I would have had chicken noodle soup in front of me at some point. 

It's days like these that make me stop and realize how lucky I am to have such wonderful children -and it couldn't have come at a better time, because my daughter has been sleeping poorly over the past few weeks and very clingy during the day. I have been feeling very overwhelmed, however, today was a great day to reset my brain and be grateful for her, as she is...

...Because who she is, is an extraordinary 4 year old.

Mid Week Revelation: The weather predicts, stormy with high winds

It appears that a 4 year old's emotional stability can be just as unpredictable as the weather. One minute they're all sunshine and rainbows, the next, they're all stormy with high winds -Concluded with a downpour of rain.

Changes... Preschool Edition

This week, was a week of firsts for me. I dealt with a vast array of emotions and mental anguish. I cried, was frantically biting my nails, and was nauseous for 2 days straight.

I paced in circles around the parking lot, my feet thumbing to the beat of my heart, which was feeling pretty heavy. I couldn’t take the unknown –Was she ok? Was she looking for me? Was she as sad as I was?

In case you were wondering… My 4 year old started her first day of preschool… I’m not exactly sure who was more nervous, but either way, it was a close tie.

We have talked about it for months. She would beg to go and I would change the subject. I wasn’t ready for her to leave the nest. I wasn’t ready for the silence of her absence. It’s hard for me to imagine my day with only one child in my house, especially without the one who was with me every step of my life for 4 years.

I feel they get too many years of education anyways and I wanted to savior the final year that she was only mine, not part of the school system. But, after talking with friends, and one who had a bad experience with a local preschool -realizing that preschools were having too many expectations at too young of an age. I decided, she should be granted the opportunity to be up to par with all the other incoming kindergarteners next year. I already know intellectually she would be fine because I spend so much time teaching her at home. But I can’t be positive she would understand the concept of standing in a line, or to raise her hand to speak. 

These apparently are expected when approaching kindergarten –I remember nap being the biggest task when I went to kindergarten, oh how times have changed. So nevertheless, she was enrolled and started her three-day-a-week excursion away from mommy.

The first day was the hardest. I walked up to the doorway, clenching tightly onto her little hand as we crossed the threshold. I had so many thoughts and feelings whirling around my head, I couldn’t think clearly.

My biggest concern was, would she become upset for some reason and search for me for comfort? –as she always has.

That thought broke my heart, realizing that walking through that entrance, I was walking towards her future -One that doesn’t require mommy to make everything better. Mommy is no longer able to intervene when things get tough, she’ll now have to learn how to handle uncomfortable situations…

I’m still not ready to release her into that world… She’s still a baby to me.

However, she ran into the classroom after giving me, her nana, and poppy (who were there for support) a big kiss and hug. I hesitated in the doorway, my knees shaky, as I watched her age in front of my eyes. The teacher was unbelievably helpful, so sweet and kind, as she put me in a classroom right next door to listen and wait to see how she reacts.

She did completely fine.

After 35 minutes of not even a hiccup. I decided I could leave school grounds. I tip toed by the open doorway, peeking in, to see her diligently working on an assignment.

In that moment I realized, it was over. She did it, and she was content.

At pick up time, I of course was there 15 minutes early, she dashed out of the classroom, with an ear to ear smile, and into my arms stating, “it was such a great day.” I happily responded with, “I’m so proud of you” as I pulled her in tighter.

I believe on my end, this school year will be a very long experience. However, I also feel she is quite happy attending. Her smile when preschool is discussed is the only thing that is making me hold it together. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to coming back home after dropping her off and spending 2.5 hours alone with only my son, but preschool is only the beginning to this attachment separation.

Sooner or later, this day would have to come… And I would have to release her.

But thankfully, I get to start with baby steps.

Thankfully, this is not only helping her transition, it’s helping me too.

I will always “baby” my children as long as I can, because that’s just my personality. I will always run to their aid, defend them, and cuddle them when they need me –even when they’re 30 years old. I never want them to question if it’s ok to talk to me or discuss something with me. I want them to be so secure that they always know I will be there to catch them if they fall…

I will never be a sink or swim parent… I will swim alongside them as long as they want me to.

Mid Week Revelation: An array of emotions

It's amazing how as a parent you can feel nervous, happy, sad, nervous, happy, then sad again --followed by an immense feeling of being proud -- all within 5 minutes of each other. My daughter's first day of Preschool has brought on more emotional feelings than either one of my pregnancies combined.

Can I have a vacation from my vacation?

My alarm clock buzzed until my ears were ringing, yet I was the only one who heard it. I clicked the dismiss button, then glanced to my right and left to see my daughter and husband snoozing away –it must be nice to be a husband and a child.

The clock read, 7:45 am.

I sauntered my way downstairs to pack the cooler, the last object that needed to be placed in the already packed car. I had my list in one hand, while checking off individual items with the pencil in my other hand. That handy piece of paper completely saves my life. After having children, I feel like I left behind countless brain cells in the delivery room. If I don’t write it down, it doesn’t get done.  

It was our vacation to the beach, well, the morning of driving to the beach.

I, mom, was running around like a chicken with my head cut off making sure EVERYTHING was packed –literally everything when children are involved. A hot breakfast was sitting on the table when I went back upstairs to wake up the other three children so everyone could eat, then hit the road.

My daughter woke and said, “isn’t it beach day today?” I couldn’t believe she had to ask, considering this was all she has talked about since the last time we went. Her long Rapunzel-like hair was messy around her face and her eyes were barely focused as she did a little, “we’re going to the beach” dance.

I was definitely nervous about this trip. Last year’s beach trip was a bust due to my son, then 8 months, screaming the whole duration because he had his first tooth breaking through –perfect timing – and his hatred of sand. Those two problems were not convenient at a beach destination. My daughter and I were by ourselves most of the time, as my husband was forced to stay on the balcony with my son.

As we packed ourselves in the car this go around, everyone was very cheerful, even a little too cheerful. My daughter was singing and my son was dancing in his car seat, flailing his arms from side to side, it even made this realist momma a little more optimistic that maybe this year would be a little better.

We were making great time, considering we left on Labor Day, with the mindset that everyone should be where they need to be so we wouldn’t hit traffic –and we were right. However, neither of my children sleep well in the car, especially my son. Our destination was about 4.5 hours away and both children were calm until roughly 2.5 hours in, then the madness started…

…Our air conditioner busted –with the temps hitting 93 degrees that day and about 2 more hours left to drive.

I’m not sure if you have ever driven in a packed to the brim car, with four people in it, stifling temperatures, and no air conditioning… But I wouldn’t recommend it. In fact, I wouldn’t wish it upon your worst enemy. We actually stopped at a fast food restaurant to regroup and regain some composure –Me fast food? Yep, fast food.

My son was so tired, he thought he was looking out the window with his eyes open. But I think it was just too hot to even focus on one thing. We had all four windows down, which was deafening, but almost seemed more unnatural to leave them closed and idle in the still, hot air. Sheriff Callie on my dual screen dvd players were no longer cutting it and I had sweat in places that didn’t even seem natural. I always say I’m a 1950s housewife, well, I just caught a glimpse of what travel would have been in that era… and I didn’t like it.

When we arrived at our hotel, I said to my husband, “nothing is too far that we can’t walk to it… I’m not getting back into that car until we leave.”

The temps were supposed to be 90s all week.

The beach was a little better than last year with my son. He whines and cries a lot on a normal day, so I didn’t expect that to be much different, but I was glad that he loved the sand, ocean, and pool. My daughter was great, as she normally is. This year, she was just more active and on the go. So it was more exhausting for this momma to keep track of both kiddos, while my husband enjoyed his vacation.

The one downside, besides the air conditioning, was we were all in one room. There were two beds, one for my daughter and I, then my husband was separate, and my son was in the pack and play. Nap time was surprisingly easy, as my daughter actually slept when my son did (if only that would have continued when we were back home). But, bedtime was hard. I felt like I was an old librarian shushing my daughter repeatedly for talking so loudly and too much. She was never one of those let’s stay calm and lay quietly in bed until I fall asleep type kids, she’s more of let’s jump around like a manic until I literally drop in my bed and that’s where I’ll sleep type of child. The first night we arrived, American Ninja Warrior was on and it was hard for her to quiet her emotions, as she loves to cheer and do all the sound effects for the competitors running the obstacles.

We progressed the week as normal as can be with two kids. We played on the beach and in the ocean -my daughter learned how to boogie board and did really well. We jumped waves and splashed in the surf. They built sandcastles, dug holes, danced on a sandbar, and picked sea shells. We were even lucky to see a hermit crab and some jelly fish -thankfully, that was the last day. We also spent too much money on the over-priced boardwalk rides and of course, my daughter had to ride every ride - twice -My son had to be taken off of two rides due to him crying and trying to jump off.  We played mini golf and fished off the pier. However, most of our time was spent in the pool -both of my children are part fish. Since we were swimming the majority of the time, and my son wants to be just like his big sister, he learned how to swim with only arm swimmies on. Boy was he proud of himself. Then, my daughter was almost going completely underwater all by herself.

Our ride home was much cooler, since we opted to leave when the sun set and with the idea of both kids sleeping and then transfer them to bed once home. It worked well with my daughter, who fell asleep within the first 10 minutes of driving. However, my son fell asleep the last half hour of the trip. He never cried, just whined to no end. I had to crawl over suitcases to get to the backseat to stroke the side of his head and cuddle the best I could with him locked in a 5 point harness. My daughter occasionally stirred, but thankfully a bull horn could sound right next to her and I think she would still sleep.

All in all, the vacation goals were met…

Memories were made.

Memories were created.

Family time was spent.

Happiness prevailed.

Laughter ensued.

And, my in-laws even spent a few days with us and played a mean game of Old Maid and Go Fish.

Since we started doing a beach trip 3 years ago, I’ve learned that vacations are no longer a vacation for the parents. It’s utter stress and complete chaos. I wasn’t able to sit down for more than a few seconds because I was being pulled in every different direction, trying to fulfill everyone’s needs. My kids wanted to make the most out of every day, so we were in constant ‘go’ mode. We hit several ups and downs throughout the duration, but they were child-age, situational based. Something that I will never experience again and as the years click away, these fits will be a thing of the past. I will think back to mini golf and laugh about my daughter and son running up and down the greens. Or my son trying to ‘step over’ the water and my daughter swinging from the props that were positioned around. 5 years from now, these won’t be issues anymore. Naps won’t control the vacation and being over tired won’t exist. Crying for no reason will be replaced with better communication and more emotional maturity.

Since they are only newly 4 years old and almost 2 years old, that sounds kind of nice… 

When it comes to vacations, it’s nice to know a lot changes in a year. That next year will be better and the year after that will be even more grand. Each year will bring upon a brand new experience and everyone will look at everything with a new set of eyes.

--All while keeping family, fun, and quality time spent as the main focus.