New Year's Resolutions

When I think of what a New Year’s resolution entails, they are usually dieting, exercising, or trying to kick a bad habit of some kind. Even when I was a parent of one, I had a resolution to eat healthier –to stop eating Tasty Cakes cupcake like it was the end of the world, however, when I became a mother of two I now have much different resolutions for this year. Reclaiming my patience is being number one on the list.

When I had only one child, I was completely on top of my game. I was patient, understanding, and took every second to appreciate all the details. I never had to child proof anything in my house because my daughter and I would be with each other all the time. We would sit and play, or read books for hours –I didn’t have anywhere else to be, or anyone else to take care of. I would have all the time in the world to sit and listen to everything she had to say (and she says a lot).  I never used the phrase, “hold on,” I didn’t have to. I used my calm indoor voice at all times and never huffed when she did something wrong, I always followed with, “that’s ok, it was an accident” (which I still say, but I am guilty of huffing now and then).

I realized with two kids (at least during the first year), I am not one of those cookie cutter moms on pinterest doing something fun and creative every day –we stay home, a lot, and my daughter spends a lot of time on the computer playing Nickjr or Disneyjr. I’ve said it before, I’m horrible at mulit-tasking. I do it, but not gracefully. I lose my patience, get frazzled, cry, yell, huff, and shake my head -this is usually before breakfast is over. I often feel as if my days could be filmed and put on a comedy show. I say things I never thought I would hear come out of my mouth. Like, “please don’t run over your brother with your bike” (it’s crazy that needs to be stated).

Quantity of time doesn’t really exist –I’m constantly moving from one place to another. My son only takes about a 1.5 hour nap and I try to get as much done as I can during that time. This is the time where my daughter and I will do a craft, read, or play something pretend. But then I see the disappointment on her face when we hear my son crying when he’s awake –because that usually means the chaos is about the resume. Then I’m back into the routine of chasing after my son and stating repetitious things like “don’t touch that or don’t eat that,” answering my daughter’s 500 questions while making a meal, and picking up the aftermath from both of my tiny tornadoes so there is a pathway to walk.

We took down our Christmas tree today while my son was sleeping and my daughter wasn’t moving fast enough, and in my head I was thinking, I have to get this tree down, the garland around the doorways, all the figures and random decorations that are scattered throughout the house all before he wakes up –because when he does, I can’t get much done. She became frustrated because I started to take the branches off in 2’s and 3’s to speed up the process and she wanted to do everything herself. After a few seconds, I stopped and shook my head in disappointment –at myself. This is probably the most fun she has had in a few days, or even since she put up the tree, and I’m taking all the fun out of it by making it a job. So I kindly sat back, and sat on my hands so I didn’t dare pull out a branch, and let her finish taking down the tree –some 25 minutes later.

Bedtime is a tough time for me, not the physical part of it, but the emotional part. My son is already asleep and I lay in bed with my daughter and listen to her talk and talk, while I basked in the warmth of her giggles. She usually hugs me and tells me she loves me some 20 + times. We discuss the day and I tell her how proud I am of her certain special things she does. It’s in this moment when I feel the most guilt of how the whole day unfolded. My son doesn’t really notice the chaos, he was born into it, but my daughter feels it. I know that because of how she clings to me when the house is quiet and it’s just the two of us.

With my resolution fast approaching, I would love to stop saying hold on to my daughter. I wish I could multitask like a normal person.  I would love to be her number one person (like I used to be) –but yet, still be my son’s number one person. Answer her every question without saying, give me a second. Do fun and creative things at least 3 times a week, with both of my children. I would love to read to my son the same way I always read to my daughter. Take weekly outings, that doesn’t include the grocery store. Spend more family time –with my husband and the kids. Finally, I would LOVE to tone down my neurotic behaviors and not spend so much time organizing everything.

I’m hoping with my son’s first birthday approaching in another 12 days things will get easier the older he gets –as I’m already noticing the days are getting easier and my patience is already reclaiming itself, slowly, while my son is intermittently gaining more independence. I’m holding onto the idea that the first year is the hardest and maybe when he starts talking and interacting more with my daughter, I will not be the so high strung in trying to fulfill everyone’s needs. Maybe they’ll cling more to each other and rely on that to make their own fun. Then when mommy does participate it’ll be a nice treat, not an obligation. Because right now, I worry my children will only remember me as being high strung and rushing things. My resolution is changing my ways (and maybe adding wine into the mix) and anxiously waiting for time to work in my favor, so the household runs smoother and more efficient.

Wishing everyone a Happy New Year!