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So, it seems that just about every time I consciously try to instill some discipline in my life, my inner brat decides it’s time to come out and cause some havoc. I call her Binky. She is the one that has historically been blamed for my lost keys, wallets, purses and any general disorganization that I am experiencing in my life. When I am just inspired to be disciplined (I “feel like it”) Binky is dormant and leaves me alone. But when it’s an effort to be disciplined (I don’t want to be), she shows her face and helps me rebel.

Lest you think I am seriously whacked, let me just say that, no, Binky is not a second personality and, yes, I do know she’s not real. But many times, when I am making an effort to make change in my life, there is some part of me that just says, “Oh yeah? I don’t think so.” Out of the 13 possible nights to practice my new habit of getting to bed earlier, I would estimate that I have been successful 5 times. Not great. On the nights that I have been successful, I have been of the mindset that taking care of physical self is more important than having “Mommy Time” or doing things that help my mental health (like staying up waaaay too late sewing and watching mindless TV. Okay, the mindless TV probably isn’t the best idea but it helps me unwind…).

So the trick becomes finding the trigger that “flips the switch” to wanting to be disciplined. What self-talk do I need to engage in to get me there? What do I need to look at to get me to grasp the importance of what I’m trying to do? What will it take to get me to the all-or-nothing place where staying up is not an option? Well, the headache that has been working my last nerve all day is one thing. And the pathetic attempt at a workout is another. And then there’s the “Oh-Dear-God-Make-It-Stop” feeling when Petunia decides not to follow directions and/or decides to throw a fit. Out go the creative, make-her-think-it’s-her-idea parenting techniques and in marches the “You will do it because I said so.” Not my proudest moments. The bottom line: I need to tell myself that the only option is to march my Mommy Butt in there and go to bed when it’s time to. I have a DVR and I know how to use it. I finish my chores while Petunia and Daddy are getting her ready for bed. I do not have anything pressing that I *need* to get done after she goes to bed. Only the desire for time to myself. And, for right now, that has got to take a back seat to sleep. Up next time: more on how to flip the switch.

Update: I am going to bed. 10 minutes after goal time. Better late than later!

It all goes “haywire”! We are perking right along in the Potty Training category and have pretty much gotten the “when we’re at home we wear panties and go potty on the potty seat” behavior down. We were talking about and just about to start working on the “if you have to go potty during Quiet Play Time/Nap Time, get up outta bed and get to the potty” behavior (she still wears a training pant at nap and bed). I’m feelin’ good. Yes, it has cost me lots of stickers and a few bucks spent in the Target dollar aisle but no worries.

Until Princess Tater Tot and I are in the office/sewing room/play room and I hear a steady stream of, you guessed it: PEE ON MY CARPET. Par for the course with potty training but it’s been almost a week since she’s done that and I had thought that the rewards and feeling like a Big Girl were motivating her to get to the potty. So, without thinking, I say frantically “Stop. Stop. Stop” meaning “Try and stop the pee from coming and get to the potty seat to finish.” But it didn’t come out that way. Obviously. And, according to what I’ve read, saying anything except “Oh, I’ll clean that up.” or some other such neutral statement was not the way to go.

Up until now I have been really, really good at making those non-committal, neutral, not-losing-your-sh*t statements when she “has an accident”. So I was disappointed in myself yesterday. Until I asked her why she peed on the carpet. “I didn’t feel like going to the potty seat.” was the answer. What?! Didn’t FEEL like it? It wasn’t an accident? Oh, Good Lord how I had to bite my tongue, mumbling to myself out of earshot and talking to God so I didn’t lose it. I cleaned up the pee and did something else “busy” for a minute to keep my composure thinking all the while “What exactly am I supposed to do with the ‘I peed on the carpet on purpose’ situation?” Let it go? Not react? NOT COOL. She saw through my busy behavior and getting out of earshot and said “When you pee on the carpet, it makes Mommy mad.” I assured her that I wasn’t mad and said something else that I cannot exactly recall about how I was feeling about the situation. From what I do recall, I probably stretched the truth pretty thin to maintain the neutral stance I felt I was supposed to take.

I did end up letting it go because I didn’t want to do something that could potentially derail Tater Tot’s motivation for potty training but, with a few hours and a little bit of perspective, I now have a plan for it if this becomes a pattern. I am not deluding myself that this is the last time she will “not feel like it”. Firstly, when she pees somewhere other than the potty, she will help me clean it up. Secondly, whatever room we are in and whatever activity we are doing will have to be stopped, using the excuse that I don’t want her around the stuff I spray on the carpet. We have to wait for it to dry. It could irritate her skin. All done in a neutral way, of course. Neutrally done, but a loss just the same.

Unfortunately, that was just the start of the downhill slide to our day. It had happened at around 3:30 and from then until bed time things just were wonky. Bed time is a whole other story. There were tears. There was outrageous stalling behavior. And then there were the power struggles. The analytical side of me is thinking “Self: it’s time to start looking at what her controlling behavior is all about”. And then I think “She’s three. She gets poked at least 8 times a day. She has to get used to stopping what she’s enjoying to go to the potty seat.” If someone was messing with my world like that, I might pee on the carpet, too. Ok, well, probably not, but you get the idea. And then maybe she just had a bad couple of hours. I wonder how it’ll go today…wish me luck!

Hey there…it’s been a while. Okay, a LONG while. Life has been just buzzing right along here at Princess Tater Tot’s house. And I have just realized that it IS Princess Tater Tot’s house. While she is not completely over-indulged, I have realized that there are some things that I could be doing differently. As an only child, the spoilage factor runs high anyway and, for the past few days anyway, that has become abundantly clear. As I only have a few minutes until I need to get her up, I will run through this at record speed and be back tomorrow for an update.

For a few days now, The Princess has been acting, well, SPOILED. And, yes, I used capital letters for a reason. Melting down at the tiniest thing. Dramatic crying spells on the floor when she can’t do something she wants to do. Irritating and slow behavior. Ignoring requests and commands. And saying “NO” in a less-than-nice voice to most things. As this is fairly unusual for her (at least the intensity and duration that I’m seeing now), I kept asking her if she felt okay thinking that maybe her blood sugar numbers were off or that she might have a UTC (more common for diabetic girls, apparently). Nope. She feels fine. She’s just running the show.

So I looked online a bit for articles on toddler behavior and, while looking at the library for other things, came across another book that I’m currently reading called “I Refuse To Raise A Brat” by Marilu Henner and a child psychologist. It has brought up some good points that I need to pay attention to. As the parent of an only child who is a girl, I have tended to protect her (for lack of a better word) too much. And I will pay if I continue. I need to keep in mind that my job and my goal here is to raise a confident, productive member of society, not to make her feel good all of the time.

This explanation is simplified and I am not the over-indulgent mother who lets her child get away with everything but there are things I feel I need to change. I’m going to take a little more time to synthesize my thoughts and the information that I’m reading before I expand on this. I was just so excited to realize that I need to change things…okay, excited is maybe not the word I’m looking for but I’m at a loss right now for the right one so I’ll leave it at that.

Now I’m off to get Princess Tater Tot up for the day. She’s trying her first ballet class today! And that’s a whole other post…there have been tutus everywhere lately!

Things have been a bit, well, raw lately. I haven’t been writing that much even though I’d like to because I feel like I’d just be complaining and whining to my three readers. And I don’t want to drive you away. Lord knows I can’t afford to lose any of the three of you.

I’ve thought about what posts I can write that add value to your lives either through information and education or humor. Posts that I can write that entertain and inform. Topics I can cover that many parents will relate to. I got nothin’. Nothin’ but a whole lotta nothin’. And that stems from having no time to myself. No time to feel creative or replenish my energy stores or be motivated to do much of anything. At least with a newborn, I could find the humor in things. I could find a way to make fun of myself. I haven’t gotten there yet with this stage of my life. I will. I’m starting to. But not quite yet.

The less than zero time to myself is coming to a head. I need to take a break or sanity will leave and The Daddy will have 24-7 responsibility of Tater Tot and her Diabetes because I will be at The Funny Farm. They will be able to visit me in my padded cell and maybe, if I’m good, they’ll undo one of my arms so I can give my little girl and husband a side-hug. All while closely supervised, of course.

Okay, maybe it’s not that bad but it still merits a bit of attention. Which is why I am grateful that this Thursday is the monthly Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation Parent Coffee in my neck of the woods. I so badly need to connect with parents who have been through this or are going through this. I need support from someone who knows what it’s like. I’m just not sure that anyone else but a Diabetes Mom would understand the crushing responsibility for everything from damage to future IQ to diabetic retinopathy due to poor blood sugar control to treating daily low blood sugars that could become fatal or the futile attempt to keep a toddler’s blood sugars within the acceptable range. And while the JDRF Mentor Mom they assigned me is really great, I need to know her a bit better to show my crazy. I’m sure she probably would understand a babbling, sobbing mess calling her on the phone but I just have not been able to do that lately. I think partly because I’m not sure how to articulate what’s wrong. Except that I need a break. There is nobody I can leave Tater Tot with because I am it. Nevermind that the stress of trying to keep her blood sugar in range, save as much money as humanly possible while making it all stretch as far as I can AND while feeding my family in the healthiest possible way and keeping the house tidy and organized so as to provide a supportive environment for above-mentioned hard-working husband is driving me crazy and providing no time to take care of myself. Minor details.

I know that we will get this all worked out and I will adjust. We’re just hitting some speed bumps. Very large, very ugly speed bumps. Unfortunately, along the way, This Mommy is getting a little irritated and I can safely say that I will not be winning the Mother of The Year Award.

I found myself thinking today “If I just didn’t need so much time to myself I’d be a better mother. Why can’t I be one of those women who takes care of everyone else and doesn’t need anything for herself”. Yes, in hindsight, this was a stupid thought, I admit…I don’t think that woman exists and, if she does, she shouldn’t. I have no earthly idea how much time a “normal” person needs to themselves but it feels like I need an inordinate amount of time to myself. As the mother of a diabetic toddler, I don’t get that time so I perpetually feel like I’m running on empty. In fact, the amount of time I get to myself has decreased from zero to less than zero since she was diagnosed. At least I used to be able to choose to sleep through the night if I wanted to before. Now, if her blood sugar is low at bed time, I need to check her in the middle of the night to make sure her bed time snack brought her blood sugar up and that it stayed up. Or if she had a drastic drop between her bed time blood sugar and her waking blood sugar, I need to test in the middle of the night to see what’s happening. Or if her insulin regimen is changed even slightly, I need to test in the middle of the night to make sure she doesn’t go hypoglycemic. Thus, less than zero time to myself. And, no, I can’t ask The Daddy for a break. He’s working two jobs and writing his Master’s Thesis.

I was thinking, “If I didn’t need that time, I wouldn’t feel like I was running on empty, right?” Well, the other day while my sister was talking me out from under the bed (figuratively), she made a good point. “Do you get any time to yourself?” she asked? “Well, no” I answered and a little light bulb went off in my head. Whether or not my need for alone time is “normal” or “excessive”, it is who I am. I can modify somewhat in order to be a good mother. I have done that. But I do not need to be putting a value judgment on who I am right now, especially with what we are going through adjusting to the new-ish diagnosis. My sister and I joked that the thoughts that I was having were like saying “If I only gave up my soul and the very essence of who I am, I would be a better mother.” There will always be something that I think I could/should change in order to do things better and that’s okay. It makes me a better mother. But I need to figure out when it’s “good enough” instead of berating myself for not being perfect. The fact of the matter is that having a little bit of something for myself makes me a better mother. It should be okay to carve out a little bit of time for that.

I have come to the conclusion that, for us right now, it’s okay to not feel guilty when “Horton Hears A Who” is playing and I am doing something I like to do or doing nothing at all. It’s okay for me to take a break from trying so damned hard and coast for a bit. My sanity depends on that conclusion so I’m stickin’ with it!

Let me start by saying that I think that Tater Tot has a full grasp of how to drink out of a “reg’lar cup” as we call them around here. I really think she does. That being said, she has managed to spill some sort of liquid from said cups just about every meal for months. Juice, milk, water, it doesn’t matter. It’s usually when I have finished my meal and have gotten up to clean dishes or tidy the kitchen. She is right there. I am right there. There is no more than 15 feet between us and yet she feels the need to get my attention by playing with her cup and spilling stuff all over the place. Sticks her hands in them, makes “cup houses”, bangs them on the table while full of liquid, puts her utensils in them. Whatever it takes to make the spill happen, really. She’s willing to go the distance.

I don’t know if this is the way most mommies feel about it but it’s just plain irritating to me. I try to modulate my reaction so that I don’t make it a big deal. It’s only water/milk/juice anyway. And there is a good chance that she’s doing it on purpose to get my reaction so I bite my tongue, slap a happy face on it and sweetly say “Oops! Let’s clean it up now.” If I could sit still to save my life I might try staying at the table with her until she’s done with her meal to test my theory that she’s trying to get my attention. I’m not sure that’s possible, though, seeing as she takes 40 minutes to eat and I tend to pop up like a gopher out of its hole after 2 minutes of sitting still (what’s that about??). Of course she’s not “on task” that whole time. She takes breaks to wave her utensils around and play with her food but, still. Hey! Smart Mommy here just had an idea: I wonder if she’d stay on task and eat faster if I stayed at the table. It’s worth a try, anyway. What do I have to lose?

Up next: pick your battles.

Happy Mother’s Day to all you Mommies out there! I have thoroughly enjoyed my day. We took a little trip to the beach this morning where I contemplated surfing but it was super-duper small and it was posted unhealthful due to bacteria levels. So I decided to go for a walk/jog by myself instead while The Daddy and Tater Tot played on the beach. Then The Daddy decided he wanted to go out into the unhealthful, small surf so Tater Tot and I played on the beach for a while. The Daddy made breakfast and even gave The Tot a bath once we got home from the beach! Then I got to go shopping by myself without worrying about entertaining The Tot or running after her or having to get home by a certain time to do anything. What a gift! For once I was able to try bras on without Tater Tot proclaiming loudly “Mommy’s got a bra-ha-ha on!”. It was nice. Then we ordered take-out from my favorite place and it was yummy!

There have been several things going on since I last blogged on a regular basis so let me update you. It’s not all that earth-shattering but I figured why not let you know? For one, I have lost 9 pounds. That’s after I gained 5 over the holidays and had not been able to get them off regardless of my proclamations that I would be steadfast in my New Year’s Resolutions. The resolutions did NOT stick. But around the beginning of April I found www.my-calorie-counter.com and started tracking my calories. I HATE, HATE, HATE counting calories but, guess what? It’s working. So I have been pretty focused on nutrition and exercise for the past month and it has worked. I feel more comfortable in my own skin. I still have 5 pounds to go but my clothes fit right again and I feel like I’m at least back to Normal Mommy instead of Schlubby Mommy Whose Pants Are Too Tight. In fact, I am a few pounds below my pre-pregnancy weight and able to wear clothes that I haven’t been able to wear in a couple of years! It feels good.

The most major Tot-related thing that has been going on is just Two-Ness. The Tot saying “No” to most everything I say, taking foooorrrreeeeevvvvveeeer to do most things that could take two seconds (can you tell that’s a peeve of mine?), dissolving into a puddle of tears and tantrums at the slightest provocation, and generally just exercising her right to change her mind every 5 seconds. Discipline is starting to come into play but I’ve thought long and hard about the things that I need to “time her out” for. I don’t have a comprehensive list or anything but, at least at this point, I feel like if it’s just inconveniencing me (i.e. doing things slower than I’d like) or not doing things exactly when/how I ask her to do it the first time, then I need to reserve the time out and let her be herself. Provide consequences for not listening to me and doing what I ask like “You took too long so now there isn’t time to do thus-and-so” or “Since you didn’t listen to Mommy, you can’t do this-or-that”. I need to plan that things will take longer than I expect and make sure that she understands the things that are absolute no-no’s. As I’m typing that I wonder if I will be spoiling her. And then I wonder what the value is of having a kid that will “snap to” when I ask her to do something. I don’t want her to be Robot Kid but I also do NOT want to have a Spoiled Girl and I can’t just have her ignoring Mommy, can I? There’s gotta be something in between and I am on a quest to find it. Sometimes I feel like I need a concrete plan for parenting or Tater Tot will feel the effects of how schizophrenic I sometimes feel about parenting! But I guess that parenting can be schizophrenic so maybe I should just learn how to go with the flow a little bit more, huh? Hasn’t ever been my strong suit as you can probably tell if you have read my over-analyzing, neurotic posts in the past. So, for the time being, am I taking many deep cleansing breaths, reciting my mantra “She is two. She is two. She is two.” under my breath and remembering that despite her two-ness right now, she is the best, most amazing little girl on the planet and I am lucky to be her Mommy!

She’s two. She is so two right now I can’t stand it. Feeling crappy doesn’t do much for the amount of patience that I have either, unfortunately. I am irritable and short of humor sometimes. Like when it takes 10 minutes to go down the stairs because she wants to slide down head-first on her belly and I won’t let her. Or she has to examine every bump on our textured walls as she makes her way down. And comment on them, too. Or go down on her bottom. No, on her feet. Wait, no, the bottom again. “Uh, mmm, uh…Mommy make quack sounds.” And I wonder if it’s just me being old and tired or if her behavior has gotten more demanding and outlandish. Maybe a little bit of both. I wish they would just figure out what the heck’s wrong with me already so I could feel better and eliminate that factor altogether.

We had a rocky time running errands this morning and The Mommy got a crash course in Timeouts-On-The-Go. They didn’t work, basically. I will tell her not to do something and she will look me in the eye while she does it. Or I will ask her to do something and she pretends not to hear me. I was shocked the first time she used this tactic. I’m not sure why I was shocked. Why should my experience be any different than any of yours? Why would my child not exert her independence cleverly disguised as defiance just like anybody else’s children? The thing that disturbs me the most is the taking a swipe at me. She doesn’t hit hard but she definitely strikes out in frustration. That is nothing that she has ever seen us do and we’ve told her several times already that, in our family we never, never, never hit people or animals. I’m kind of devastated right now although I know I’ll bounce back. She’s just Testin’ The Momma.

On a more positive note, she’s back on the potty seat after two weeks of quiet “no’s” when I asked her if she wanted to go potty on the potty seat. The defiance is hitting me just like the potty training did at first. I’m just not prepared for my sweet little angel to push the boundaries while learning how to handle her frustration appropriately. Tantrums I can handle. The defiance just took me by surprise. And it kinda pushes my buttons. Guess I’d better get ready and quick, huh?

We went to a birthday party on Sunday at a local “Gymboree” type place and, let’s just say it wasn’t Tater Tot’s favorite experience. I did manage to get some video of her actually enjoying herself but she spent a good portion of the party attached to my hip. More accurately, on my hip. Which doesn’t bode well for the progress that I’ve made at physical therapy with my lower back and shoulder problems but that’s another story for another day…

As we drive up to the place I hear a little excited voice say from the back seat, “Dere’s toys in dere”. She continues to be excited as we get out of the car and gather birthday present, diaper bag, etc. and walk into the place. Then, when two other kids show up, she cries and says “Want Mommy to pick you up”. We get our shoes off, start into the fun zone, and explore a little bit without further drama. She actually enjoys the slides, the trampoline, and a few of the obstacle course-type thingies but when the structured activities begin, she becomes attached to the hip again. I attempt to get her to participate with fairly disastrous results and spend much of my time speaking in a soothing tone away from the activity to get her to calm down. We watch and take pictures of the birthday girl being wheeled around in the birthday wagon with balloons attached and then everyone heads into the room in the back for cake. That is the point at which The Tater Tot makes it clear that it is time to go home. Wailing is usually a sign that a child is past her limit. Duh, Mommy.

I really thought she’d like the experience of being at the gym and, without the other kids and noise, I think she would have. Of course, kids and noise go hand-in-hand with kids’ gyms so I guess she didn’t have a fighting chance. At first, I was a little disturbed that she didn’t like it since all the other kids seemed absolutely fine with it and seemed to be having a great time. Mine was the only kid screaming and crying and saying “no” to all of the activities. In hindsight, I should have picked up on the fact that she wasn’t feelin’ it sooner but I guess I thought that, once she got in there and participated, she’d have a good time. Sometimes she’s reluctant at first but when she gets into it, she’s fine. I came away from the experience having learned two things. One, it was worth a shot. I didn’t know that she wouldn’t like it at this age. Now I do. And two, this is another opportunity for Mommy to realize that Tater Tot is who she is. She is a wonderful little girl who is sweet and social when she feels comfortable and is not shy about letting you know when she is uncomfortable (hence the crying and screaming and saying “no”). She is her own little person and, regardless of what I want or what I think, she needs to be allowed to be who she is. And she is just not into crowds and noise right now no matter what all else is going on. I still think it’s good for her to go to parties and such. I’ll just take her knowing that I need to pay closer attention to when it’s time to go home…

A recent exchange at our house during a lazy, playful afternoon:

Tater Tot: Pfffthhh! (fart)

The Mommy from across the room: “Tater Tot tooted! Oh my goodness! Did you toot?!”

Tater Tot: *Giggle, giggle* “Mommy tooted!” (Runs to The Mommy and collapses in a heap on the floor giggling)

The Mommy: “No you don’t! Don’t you blame your toots on The Mommy!”

Tater Tot: *Hee, hee* “Mommy tooted!”

The Mommy: “Did you learn that from The Daddy? Are you going to blame it on The Dog too?”

Tater Tot: “Doggie tooted!”

The Mommy: “Oh no! That wasn’t The Doggie, that was Tater Tot. And it was a stinky one! Peeeeezhyewwwww!”

Tater Tot: *Giggle, giggle. Squirm, squirm*

Farts are almost always funny at our house. Unless they are big man-sized ones that drive you out of the room. The Tot isn’t big enough or stinky enough for that yet. Thank God. In the mean time, it’s still cute. For now.