Maybe I’m Not Cut Out for This?

Last night, after a particularly long 2 weeks evening, as Everly cried about something (who knows what) for the 500th time, I lost it. I told my husband I could not do this anymore, and that if it were possible to give your 2 year old to the fire department – no questions asked, I’d be driving there right now.

It’s happened. She’s crossed the threshold from happy go-lucky, fairly easy to manage, good tempered and always distractable baby, to full blow toddler. Gone are the days of gently coaxing her to do what we need her to, with promises of fun things or with the shake of something shiny in another directions. No longer can we convince her that brushing her teeth is fun, or that she might just like that carrot if she tried it. No, all of that is behind us now, and I’m left with a stubborn, head strong little girl who thinks my goal in life is to torture her.

It’s become everything.

I know that in a few months years, I will look back on all of this with a fondness for the time. I know that I will think about how easy it was then compared to where we are now, and know I just couldn’t see it at the time. I know that in the grand scheme of things, Everly is not behaving in any way other than how an almost 2 year old should behave, and that I’m pretty lucky overall for how great she is.

I know all of this, but I can’t help but freak out about the now.

I spent the first part of last night TRYING to just let all the challenges roll off my back. After 9 days of sickness (her, me, hubs), I knew my rope was thin, so I psyched myself up for the night. I worked my way through the first cryfest of the evening by sitting in the same room with her, allowing her to cry about whatever it was. I tried the tactic of asking her what was wrong, but she only cried harder. I tried to tell her I wasn’t going to allow this behaviour, and that when she was finished acting out, I would be waiting and ready to play with her. I tried to just simply ignore her, but none of that worked. Eventually we had to go downstairs for dinner, so I had no choice but to calm her and move on. Everly 1: Mom 0.

Dinner started and of COURSE she had no interest in what was on the menu. She licked the margarine off a few slices of bread, dropped some morsels for the dog, spilled her drink on the table and then was finished. I had barely taken a bite, and she was finished at the table. She started to whine and cry. She never asked to be let down, and she worked herself up into a huge frenzy trying to get out of her chair. I told her we would let her down when dinner was finished. I told her she didn’t have to eat, but that she had to wait until daddy and I were done. I told her all this and it didn’t fucking matter at ALL, because she just cried and got more worked up and she doesn’t listen or pay attention to me (and as a note, I’m talking to her in toddlerese or whatever, I’m not trying to get her to understand adult communications here). She screamed and cried and carried on through an entire meal (rushed as it was because who can eat when dealing with that?). She cried for 20 mins afterwards. Maybe I am the mean one, leaving her strapped in her chair when we were all done dinner but I am at a loss. I don’t want her to think she can just scream her way in or out of things. I wanted her to simply ask to be let down, to understand that we have rules, to at least give me SOME indication that she’s capable of learning boundaries.

It didn’t work. After a long time of her crying alone at the table, I finally tried to talk to her again. Out of sheer exhaustion, she stop crying long enough for me to take that as a sign she was calm, and I let her down. I still think she won that one, because honestly, it’s not like she learned anything. Everly 2: Mom 0.

We moved upstairs to hang out until bath time. She had refused to take off her jacket the entire time we were home, which up until this moment I had given up on. I’m trying this whole choose your battles thing too (also not working). She loves to take baths, so I thought she would take her jacket off easily but even that took coaxing. At this point, I was so frustrated but really trying to keep my cool. I also don’t do well at that. I wish I was one of those rational, calm people but I’m not. Being a fiery, passionate individual is great if you’re dealing with deadlines or work, but is terrible when you’re dealing with children. I swear I have the worst personality for children.

Then came the thing that turns every night, be it wonderful or already frustrating, completely on it’s ass. That thing is tooth brushing. We had, for a long time, managed an excellent routine of letting her brush, and then us. She decided she hated that, so we bought a second toothbrush and for a long time, she allowed us to take turns. Everly turn, daddy turn, Everly turn, mommy turn and repeat. I don’t think we were winning any dental hygiene awards but, overall it seemed effective and it was better than no brushing. However now? Now she won’t let us have a turn. She rolls over, squirms away, clamps her mouth shut and performs a number of other stunts to avoid this. No amount of talking with her works. I’ve tried explaining why, I’ve tried offering rewards, I’ve tried a TON of the complete and utter bullshit you read in parenting books, but it doesn’t work. Generally, tooth brushing ends in an extremely frustrated mommy and daddy, and a crying toddler.

So now what? She’s not eating, or listening, or brushing her teeth. She isn’t using her manners or being nice to her parents. She’s acting like one of those kids I always see in stores and cringe about. All of the things we’ve done, all the loving, the teaching, the patience, all of it has backfired. I didn’t want to be the authoritarian parent who shoved their kid in time out every time they walked out of sync. I wanted to be the Harvey Karp parent whose kid was able to live a little, and then be “disciplined” with respect. I wanted to put in effort and get a reward, the reward of a well behaved child who gave me some indication she was capable of learning to listen, at least on some level. I also wanted my child to be willing to try new foods and enjoy colouring a picture but, I don’t get to have that either.

I’m just so confused. I never thought this would be easy. I don’t expect my child to act like a perfect angel, and listen diligently at 21 months old. I don’t think she will ever just sit through a meal and eat all her food without protest, and I am certainly not crazy enough to think she is going to be the first and only child on the planet that likes to brush her teeth. All that said, when nothing is going right, and I don’t feel like I’m making progress, I can’t help but question my competence as a mother.

Progress progress progress. We’re never making progress. Every time I feel that we do, something regresses or changes. I am always taking 2 giant leaps back for every small shuffle forward I can make. Progress. I just want to feel like I’m getting somewhere.

I mean I try. I read, I ask advice, I implement tactics. I make an attempt to love her through this time of rapid growth and learning, and I respect that she’s her own individual and that she’s still sorting all that out. I understand the logical impediments to her acting properly, and I’ve never once wanted that child who has had the spirit sucked out of them so hard, they can’t even function. I don’t expect too much out of her really, she’s just a child, but I expect more out of me. I expect to be able to make some sort of progress with her behaviour. I expect for the odd thing to even work, and give me a glimmer of hope for the future. I expect to act like an adult and stop letting a 21 month old child drive me to the point of sobbing text messages to my sister asking her why on EARTH she had a second child, because she must be fucking crazy and also she is welcome to have this one if she wants it.

Last night ended like all of these nights do. Everly cried a lot of tears, she took me from rage and frustration to sadness and guilt over how I handled the situation, and she didn’t even have to move to do it. She felt like we didn’t love her, because we didn’t allow her to watch her show before bed after the demonstration she gave, and I felt like the “punishment” was a waste of time, because she doesn’t understand what the hell is happening anyway. I don’t feel bad, because I gave her the choice of brushing her teeth and watching SpongeBob or not brushing and going straight to bed, and she chose not to brush. That said, she doesn’t understand that she made that choice, so the whole punishment thing seems entirely futile.

I feel like a jerk. I feel like I’m not doing this right for her, and she feels like I’m mean, and NONE of that is helping us get anywhere in life.

So I’m left here wondering why I ever thought I was cut out for this whole thing. I’m not, by nature, a patient person; though I did believe I’d be able to exercise patience with my child. I’m not good at accepting defeat or letting others win, I just never anticipate motherhood to feel like such a competition with my child and myself. I’m a smartish person, I have a job that requires creativity and talent; one that challenges me to do things in different, sometimes better ways. I succeed at that for the most part, but I just can’t seem to transfer any of that skill onto my parenting.

My next plan is to try the rewards systems with Everly, but honestly, nothing else we try works so I already know that’s not going to. I fear so much that she will become one of THOSE kids, the ones who are constantly out of control and disrespectful and mean, one of those kids that used to scare me before I was a mother. I am working so hard to raise this beautiful child with the care she deserves, and the attention she needs to become a good natured small human, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s too late at this point. And I’m starting to wonder if the problem is all me.

I really wanted to be a certain type of parent, but that type of parenting isn’t working. Being gentle, trying to converse with my child, trying to allow her the independence she needs to grow, while keeping her close and safe; all of that is great until she’s screaming because she wants to paint the table with yogurt instead of eating it and I can’t teach her why that’s not what we do. And if I can’t teach her the simple things, how am I going to deal with the really important ones?

I don’t know how people do this. I don’t know how you overcome these challenges and remain sane. I don’t know how you decide to do it again, because honestly, I don’t think I was cut out to do this in the first place.

Any advice is welcome. Any tricks, any tips, any thing you’ve tried – even if it’s just in the form of a giant bottle of vodka.

Tagged as: Advice, Mom Fail, Mommy Crazy, Mommy Guilt, Mommy Rant, Toddlerisms, Why Oh Why