There's this well known phrase about women, particularly moms, who no longer look like their younger, fitter, childless selves; a phrase that has never, to the best of my knowledge, been uttered in a positive or kind way; a phrase which holds so much power in the attitude in which it is spoken, that it resonated deeply within me as a child, when I would hear adults speak it of someone, with pretentious, gossipy, indignation:
"She really let herself go."
Let herself go where exactly?
Because, as I see it, she probably hasn't let herself go anywhere.
I have been battling feelings brought up by this phrase for a long time now, not that I have ever actually heard it directed at me, but who does? No one. No one hears that insult. That insult falls onto the ears of other pretentious, judgmental adults, and young children. Young children who grow into adults and come to realize, they are likely the ones being spoken about in this way.
See, a while back, I discovered that I am practically unrecognizable to people who haven't seen me in 10ish years. I was briefly excited to see an old friend, until I noticed the tilted head and squinting eyes of "I think I should know you." And it's not her fault. I am currently still roughly 60 lbs overweight from a very large pregnancy. I have very few clothes that fit comfortably, and so I look like a sloppy, hot mess most days, and most days, I hope against all hope, that I never run into anyone I knew back in college...or high school, or anyone who knew my former self. You know, the one worthy of being known and seen. You see, because it is now my perception that I am that embarrassment of a person; the one people have to squint at and do a double take at, and then go home wondering, "What happened to her?" The one who sees the occasional Facebook rants about adults wearing old sweats (of all things) in public, and women who don't wear make up, or do their hair, or make themselves look nice for their men. What horrible and lazy moms and wives they must be, right?
Wrong.
In fact, it's probably the exact opposite of everything you think about them. Last year, I had my 4th child. She was just about as close as you can get to 10 lbs, without actually being 10 lbs, so we'll just say it; she was a 10 pound baby. I gained close to 70 lbs, on top of the almost 30 I was still hanging on to from my third pregnancy.
I had been homeschooling my oldest 2 children, in grades 1 and 2. I had been nursing a baby. I had been trying to cater to the needs of a toddler somewhere in between. At about the 3 month mark, postpartum, my back decided to stop working properly. Putting the baby into the crib, and taking her out, suddenly became breathtakingly painful. I worked through it, remained functional, and discovered one of the possible causes was diastasis recti. This was a devastating blow to my former self, the athletic self, the one with a ridiculously strong core because her other limbs were always injured and core work was all she could do.
It hasn't gotten any better either. Charlotte is now over a year old. I stopped homeschooling the older two children to give myself a break, and maybe, just maybe, more time to take care of myself. I recently went to a dentist for the first time in 4 years, to discover my teeth are falling apart. I take very good care of them at home, but don't have time for many doctor's appointments of my own, not to mention a complete lack of dental insurance. Sooooo, the dentist was my first stop on the "take better care of mommy tour," and now, I might need oral surgery to keep my teeth in my head. Spine specialist is stop number 2, since last week, when I tried a muscle relaxer for my back for the first time (after finally weaning the baby from nursing), it disoriented me, caused one eye to dilate like crazy, and kept me in bed all day with motion sickness from simply standing.
You see, when you are a stay at home, homeschooling mom of 4 children, with no available family nearby to watch the kids for you during the week, and a husband who works during the operating hours of most all other medical places of business, getting out to see a doctor yourself, or do anything for yourself, is a near impossibility. Any available hours for that are quickly taken with everyone else's appointments (including the dog's), and grocery shopping and errand running. See, she doesn't let herself go. She gets completely lost.
She loses herself to love others and make sure they are well taken care of.
She loses herself in a schedule that circles rapidly around her, but doesn't include her.
She loses herself to herself; her own guilt, shaming herself for stealing away any alone time that doesn't involve grocery or birthday or necessary shopping for her family.
She loses herself in social media, a rare outlet, where anyone and everyone is there to invalidate every thought, opinion, or emotion she has; the only place in the world where she is surrounded by thousands, and completely alone at the same time.
And once she's completely lost, unrecognizable to even herself, she battles different emotions. Feelings of complete worthlessness. How did she get this bad? She doesn't even deserves this family. And these kids...these loving kids? While she's so busy, self loathing herself for even taking the time to self loathe, she can't find the time/energy/strength to enjoy what's right in front of her. Her inner struggle is a constant tug of war between wanting to freeze and enjoy every single moment with her rapidly growing children, and counting down the seconds to when they go to bed.
She hasn't let herself go, people. I beg of you, please stop using this to describe women who, to you, might look run down, overweight, exhausted, or seem to be aging poorly. She hasn't let herself go. She forgot how to make herself a priority. She has lost herself, sacrificed herself for the sake of those she loves, not to the point of martyrdom, but just far enough to not quite know how to claw her way back. Instead of judging her, labeling her, or thinking her a negative person who must love misery, love her, and know that she doesn't need pity or even unsolicited advice, but rather love, support, and understanding; to know that just maybe, she's not as alone as she feels.
**Update, I am working toward a healthier me. Do not allow my honest and uncomfortable, heartfelt emotions here to scare you or worry for me. I will soon update with a blog about the journey to a healthier mommy. :)
Showing posts with label parenting blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting blog. Show all posts
Monday, May 16, 2016
Saturday, September 5, 2015
Top Ten Things I Think When You Tell Me You Would Never Let a Baby Cry (For Shame!)
I am so tired of all the mommy shaming...
the daily sharing of posts to make every mom in the world feel badly about a choice that they made, in a desperate moment, to get their kids to sleep. The fact is, we sit around judging the decisions of other parents without ever having been there to witness that decision making process.
It's as though that business about walking in someone else's shoes doesn't apply to moms. "Don't judge, until you've walked a mile in their shoes, dear; unless it's about parenting, and then anyone who does things differently is wrong."
I could write a whole book about all the mommy shaming and judging; how we all judge each other to feel better about our own decisions which others are making us feel guilty for. It's a vicious cycle. But I'll try to keep this topic more condensed. Let's talk about crying.
Here is a list I have compiled, of the top 10 things I think, when you tell me you have never let your child cry.
10. You have never put them in the car for any extended period of time.
This could mean any trip outside your home town or city; any trip from, say, 30 minutes to 14 hours or more. Charlotte screamed the whole way home from the hospital at 3 days old. It happens. She had just been fed and changed, and it was bitter cold. We weren't stopping. The goal was getting home. We recently took a trip to North Carolina with our 4 children, one of which was only 5 months old at the time. We saved our money all year for this trip, but we still didn't have enough money to turn it into a 3 day, 2 hotel stays, trip. We had no idea how Charlotte might respond to the trip either. Isaac made it to Tennessee and back at about 6 months, with very little problem. Charlotte, however, got to the point where she screamed the second we placed her back in the car seat, no matter how long we stopped for. So we carried on, through her screams, because, well, we couldn't just stay in West Virginia forever.
9. You've never vacuumed.
All of my children eventually reached an age when they were terrified of the vacuum, and no longer slept through it. Tough break. I'd rather they screamed during my once or twice (not nearly enough) a week vacuuming, than roll around in filth, collecting dog hair in their mouths.
8. You have never made dinner.
Not every night is a disaster, but, as you must know, infants are unpredictable, as are their nap times. I can start dinner while she's napping, and be elbow deep in raw meat 10 minutes later when she decides nap is over. I have other people in this house who need to eat, and if I catered to every single cry, we'd all starve. Also, baby wearing has not been a viable option for me (so don't even suggest it), for a long time. I have back problems which become so much worse, to the point of not being able to move at all, if I strap her on me to go about my day. So, I do what absolutely needs to get done before grabbing her, and sometimes, she goes back to sleep before I get there.
7. You've never had a child claw, kick, scream, and hit you during one of their overtired fits.
Maybe your children are perfect angels and never fight sleep and only cry when they have a real need for your snuggles, or more. I have not always been that lucky. My oldest daughter became mobile at an early age and refused to even nurse beyond 10 months because it was too restricting. It would be 11 pm and I would go to her night after night because I couldn't stand the thought of letting her cry. Every single time, I'd try to nurse her, she'd twist her head away from me so hard, I would hurt her if I'd continued to try. I'd try to rock her, and she'd kick, scream, and claw to get away from me. I'd put her on the floor, and she'd play happily as though all was right in the world, while continuing to rub her overtired eyes. I'm sorry, but I'm not in the business of allowing my children (especially my 9/10 month old) stay up all night, just because they want to play. Maybe other moms and dads are ok with this. We were not. She was trying to manipulate the situation to get what she wanted, though she was clearly tired and fighting sleep, and she needed to learn that it was BEDTIME.
6. You've never cleaned their nose or face, clipped their nails, changed their diaper, or done anything good for their overall health, that they didn't particularly like.
Maybe you view these as separate and completely different things, but I do not. I've done a lot of things that are good for my children, that they didn't like, and guess what? I'm sure to do more. No, I don't sit there listening to them scream when they are clearly in need of something from me, even if it is just snuggles. Believe me when I tell you that, because most people refuse to hear that, too outraged by my apparent heartlessness. As stated in the above, that was not always the case. I am happy to cuddle my babies, and rock them to sleep, but they are not always going to go to sleep willingly, no matter how long I try to rock them. And, believe it or not, sleep (and lots of it) is an important part of our little ones' health, growth, and brain development. They may not always want it, but they need it, and when I hear a whiny, fussy child, even well beyond infancy, I hear a child who's likely not getting enough sleep. We remedy that quickly here.
5. You've never disciplined your child, in any way, shape, or form.
This isn't a debate about spanking. It could be spanking, sending them to their room, or just a firm yelling, but the hard truth is that children don't like to hear, "No!" They don't like being told what to do or what not to do. They also don't like disappointing their parents. These upsetting things can lead them to cry, and depending on the situation, the fit that's thrown, or the point you're trying to make with them, sometimes, you have to let it run it's course.
4. You don't have any other children.
Maybe you don't, and that's not a judgment on that, choice or not. But I too was able to cater to every cry out of my first born child. It's been down hill from there. When you have other children with needs, other children who need to be fed, and can't be ignored, sometimes, the baby needs to cry a little longer than you might like. I have had the occasional week here where my older children would never get lunch until 3 or 4 if I stopped everything for those midday infant melt downs. If it was bad enough (and believe me, a mother knows when it's serious or not), we did have a later lunch, and we figured things out. But many days, things needed to get done, they got done, and my baby survived and got plenty of cuddles during the parts of the day when I wasn't providing sustenance to my other offspring.
3. You have never left your child with a babysitter, caretaker, childcare provider, or school.
That may sting, and I don't mean for it to. The point is, our children will always cry for us, even when (or especially when) we are doing something that we need to do for them or the sake of our families. My babies and children have cried even when leaving them with family they know and love, because they want us. They desire to be with us, and they don't like being left behind for anything. But sometimes it is for their own good, the good of your mental, physical, spiritual, or emotional health, the good of your family, or the health of your marriage. These things are all important things, and though they may not like it, you are doing what is best by your family.
2. You don't actually have children.
Because...well...they cry. And sometimes, even holding them, doesn't stop it.
1. You just enjoy thinking you're right about everything and judging others.
This sounds harsher than I intended, but it's still true. Some people become so blindly passionate about particular topics, that they cannot find a gray area. It's black or white, and if you're not with them, you are wrong! That is really too bad, because we moms could find a lot of common ground in the gray area.
The point is this, I would never judge a working mom for dropping her crying baby off at daycare, or a parent for rightly disciplining their child, any more than I would judge the mom or dad who had tried absolutely everything else, before making that heartbreaking, last ditch effort to get her child to sleep. Just stop it. You don't know how they arrived at that decision. Contrary to what you might assume, it is not because they are lazy or neglectful or selfish. So stop trying to make them feel that way.
There is no such thing as a parenting expert.
No one has the proper credentials.
the daily sharing of posts to make every mom in the world feel badly about a choice that they made, in a desperate moment, to get their kids to sleep. The fact is, we sit around judging the decisions of other parents without ever having been there to witness that decision making process.
It's as though that business about walking in someone else's shoes doesn't apply to moms. "Don't judge, until you've walked a mile in their shoes, dear; unless it's about parenting, and then anyone who does things differently is wrong."
I could write a whole book about all the mommy shaming and judging; how we all judge each other to feel better about our own decisions which others are making us feel guilty for. It's a vicious cycle. But I'll try to keep this topic more condensed. Let's talk about crying.
Here is a list I have compiled, of the top 10 things I think, when you tell me you have never let your child cry.
10. You have never put them in the car for any extended period of time.
This could mean any trip outside your home town or city; any trip from, say, 30 minutes to 14 hours or more. Charlotte screamed the whole way home from the hospital at 3 days old. It happens. She had just been fed and changed, and it was bitter cold. We weren't stopping. The goal was getting home. We recently took a trip to North Carolina with our 4 children, one of which was only 5 months old at the time. We saved our money all year for this trip, but we still didn't have enough money to turn it into a 3 day, 2 hotel stays, trip. We had no idea how Charlotte might respond to the trip either. Isaac made it to Tennessee and back at about 6 months, with very little problem. Charlotte, however, got to the point where she screamed the second we placed her back in the car seat, no matter how long we stopped for. So we carried on, through her screams, because, well, we couldn't just stay in West Virginia forever.
9. You've never vacuumed.
All of my children eventually reached an age when they were terrified of the vacuum, and no longer slept through it. Tough break. I'd rather they screamed during my once or twice (not nearly enough) a week vacuuming, than roll around in filth, collecting dog hair in their mouths.
8. You have never made dinner.
Not every night is a disaster, but, as you must know, infants are unpredictable, as are their nap times. I can start dinner while she's napping, and be elbow deep in raw meat 10 minutes later when she decides nap is over. I have other people in this house who need to eat, and if I catered to every single cry, we'd all starve. Also, baby wearing has not been a viable option for me (so don't even suggest it), for a long time. I have back problems which become so much worse, to the point of not being able to move at all, if I strap her on me to go about my day. So, I do what absolutely needs to get done before grabbing her, and sometimes, she goes back to sleep before I get there.
7. You've never had a child claw, kick, scream, and hit you during one of their overtired fits.
Maybe your children are perfect angels and never fight sleep and only cry when they have a real need for your snuggles, or more. I have not always been that lucky. My oldest daughter became mobile at an early age and refused to even nurse beyond 10 months because it was too restricting. It would be 11 pm and I would go to her night after night because I couldn't stand the thought of letting her cry. Every single time, I'd try to nurse her, she'd twist her head away from me so hard, I would hurt her if I'd continued to try. I'd try to rock her, and she'd kick, scream, and claw to get away from me. I'd put her on the floor, and she'd play happily as though all was right in the world, while continuing to rub her overtired eyes. I'm sorry, but I'm not in the business of allowing my children (especially my 9/10 month old) stay up all night, just because they want to play. Maybe other moms and dads are ok with this. We were not. She was trying to manipulate the situation to get what she wanted, though she was clearly tired and fighting sleep, and she needed to learn that it was BEDTIME.
6. You've never cleaned their nose or face, clipped their nails, changed their diaper, or done anything good for their overall health, that they didn't particularly like.
Maybe you view these as separate and completely different things, but I do not. I've done a lot of things that are good for my children, that they didn't like, and guess what? I'm sure to do more. No, I don't sit there listening to them scream when they are clearly in need of something from me, even if it is just snuggles. Believe me when I tell you that, because most people refuse to hear that, too outraged by my apparent heartlessness. As stated in the above, that was not always the case. I am happy to cuddle my babies, and rock them to sleep, but they are not always going to go to sleep willingly, no matter how long I try to rock them. And, believe it or not, sleep (and lots of it) is an important part of our little ones' health, growth, and brain development. They may not always want it, but they need it, and when I hear a whiny, fussy child, even well beyond infancy, I hear a child who's likely not getting enough sleep. We remedy that quickly here.
5. You've never disciplined your child, in any way, shape, or form.
This isn't a debate about spanking. It could be spanking, sending them to their room, or just a firm yelling, but the hard truth is that children don't like to hear, "No!" They don't like being told what to do or what not to do. They also don't like disappointing their parents. These upsetting things can lead them to cry, and depending on the situation, the fit that's thrown, or the point you're trying to make with them, sometimes, you have to let it run it's course.
4. You don't have any other children.
Maybe you don't, and that's not a judgment on that, choice or not. But I too was able to cater to every cry out of my first born child. It's been down hill from there. When you have other children with needs, other children who need to be fed, and can't be ignored, sometimes, the baby needs to cry a little longer than you might like. I have had the occasional week here where my older children would never get lunch until 3 or 4 if I stopped everything for those midday infant melt downs. If it was bad enough (and believe me, a mother knows when it's serious or not), we did have a later lunch, and we figured things out. But many days, things needed to get done, they got done, and my baby survived and got plenty of cuddles during the parts of the day when I wasn't providing sustenance to my other offspring.
3. You have never left your child with a babysitter, caretaker, childcare provider, or school.
That may sting, and I don't mean for it to. The point is, our children will always cry for us, even when (or especially when) we are doing something that we need to do for them or the sake of our families. My babies and children have cried even when leaving them with family they know and love, because they want us. They desire to be with us, and they don't like being left behind for anything. But sometimes it is for their own good, the good of your mental, physical, spiritual, or emotional health, the good of your family, or the health of your marriage. These things are all important things, and though they may not like it, you are doing what is best by your family.
2. You don't actually have children.
Because...well...they cry. And sometimes, even holding them, doesn't stop it.
1. You just enjoy thinking you're right about everything and judging others.
This sounds harsher than I intended, but it's still true. Some people become so blindly passionate about particular topics, that they cannot find a gray area. It's black or white, and if you're not with them, you are wrong! That is really too bad, because we moms could find a lot of common ground in the gray area.
The point is this, I would never judge a working mom for dropping her crying baby off at daycare, or a parent for rightly disciplining their child, any more than I would judge the mom or dad who had tried absolutely everything else, before making that heartbreaking, last ditch effort to get her child to sleep. Just stop it. You don't know how they arrived at that decision. Contrary to what you might assume, it is not because they are lazy or neglectful or selfish. So stop trying to make them feel that way.
There is no such thing as a parenting expert.
No one has the proper credentials.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Once Bitten, Twice Shy
There's this story about my childhood my dad has always loved to tell; a not so flattering story about my character I might add. See, apparently, I used to really enjoy biting my new baby sister.
I bit her any chance I could get. I was 2 and a half years old, and who knows what was going through my mind, but my dad was anxious to put a stop to it.
So, this one time, we were driving somewhere. In the back seat, my sister was strapped in secure right next to me, helpless to defend herself and no where to go. I bit her. She screamed, and I felt the wrath of our father. Some dad's threaten, "Don't make me pull this car over and come back there!" Well, my dad wasn't one for empty threats. He pulled the car over, walked over to my door, opened it, and bit me.
The memory is more of a foggy dream to me than anything, probably encouraged by the repetition of the story over the years. But one thing is fact: I never bit my baby sister again.
Today, I put the baby down on the floor to play next to Isaac. He smiled and made faces at her. All was well. I turned my back to look up a potential birthday gift for our soon to be 3 year old, online, and then it happened. I heard the blood curdling, tear inducing, heart breaking scream of an infant who had just been given a shot. I spun my chair around to a very concerned, very confused, very fearful for his bottom, 2 year old. He saw the anger in my face, knowing she would not scream like that for no good reason. I saw the mark on her cheek.
Isaac ran to me, "Mommy, she no like dat! She no like dat!"
I could hardly contain my anger. Isaac has been left alone in a room with Charlotte for a few minutes or more before. What on earth did he do?
"Isaac!" My accusatory tone was unmistakable. "What did you DO?!" I ran to her and immediately noticed the teeth marks in her cheek, prominent, already bruising. He was nervously silent, and I already had my answer.
"Did you bite her?!"
"Yeths."
"Why would you bite her?!" Everything was a yell. I was so mad. How did such a sweet and happy boy inherit such a horrible trait...from me. It's possible I was even more angry at myself.
He didn't have an answer. I popped the back of his hand, "Go to your room!"
His heartbroken cry traveled all the way up the stairs while I cuddled my recovering, sniffling baby girl. Knowing my own history, I decided to take care matters before they continued. After a few moments of cooling down, I called Isaac back downstairs to apologize to his sister and explain to him how wrong that was. The problem with trying to talk and rationalize with him, is that his response to anything he doesn't quite understand is yes. Many conversations have gone like this:
"Isaac, is it nice to hit?"
"Yeths, it nice to-"
"NO, IT IS NOT NICE TO HIT!"
...and repeat. We've had that exchange so many times, I can't figure out if he's confused by the word, "not," doesn't understand the difference between "yes," and "no," or just enjoys pushing my buttons. He tends to hit when he's excited. Maybe he thinks they are playing. I don't know, but it's been a point of contention with us for a few months now.
So I sat him down, showed him Charlotte's boo boo, and told him how he hurt her. He had a look of concern on his face, but also confusion. I asked him to apologize.
"Sorwy, Charlotte," he said, after kissing her boo boo.
I asked, "You aren't going to bite her again, are you?"
"Yeths,"
"ISAAC, NO! It is not nice to bite!" I interrupted, frustrated. "That hurt her!"
He still seemed confused, "Sorwy, Mommy."
"Isaac, do you want me to bite you?"
"Yeths,"
I am so confused by his constant need to respond with this, but ok.
"Ok, I'm going to show you what it feels like to do what you did to Charlotte. I'm going to bite you on the cheek, ok."
"Ok."
I leaned over and gently bit until he yelled, "OW!" The tears began to flow. He looked betrayed. I didn't even leave a mark, but he understood that it hurt.
"That hurt, didn't it?"
Crying and wiping his tears he replied, "Yeths!"
"Now, are you ever going to bite Charlotte again?"
I braced myself for a repeat of my ongoing frustration when he cried, "Noooo."
I was heartbroken, but felt the mission had been accomplished. I hugged him and held him tight and told him how sorry I was that I had bit him. The rest of the day went on as usual.
I shared the events of the day with my husband upon his return home from work. I was aggravated, concerned, and confused by Isaac's response to the whole thing. We've talked about biting. He's heard me yell several times when Charlotte has clamped down while nursing. He would run to me and ask, "What wong, Mommy?" When I would explain to him what happened he would say, "She bite you like dis?" and clamp his teeth together, and I would say, "Yes," and explain how that hurts.
"So why would he think this was something she would like?" I asked while chatting with Jelani.
"Ohhhh, I know why he did that." Jelani went on to explain to me how they've played on the floor with Charlotte, together before, and he (Jelani) would 'nibble' her cheeks with his mouth.
My light bulb moment occurred as I remembered turning my back while he was playing in her face, making sounds, "booga booga boo," at her, just before the screaming. Guilt rushed over me like a waterfall. He is not even a smidgen of the horrible child I once was, just because he's mine. He thought he was playing, legitimately. His look of confusion at her response to his playful 'nibbling' was genuine. He thought that's exactly what Daddy was doing! His heartbroken confusion at my form of discipline was real and gut wrenching, and, as I cry while writing this, I have never felt worse.
Epic. Mommy. FAIL.
Jelani laughed, "Well, he'll never bite her again!" But I had to make things right. Or at least as right as I could.
We were going to the park for a walk, so before getting Isaac out of his car seat, I leaned over, "Isaac, when you bit Charlotte, were you trying to play with her? Like Mommy and Daddy do?"
"Yeths," he looked hesitant.
"Like this?" I asked, but as I leaned in to his cheek, he flinched and turned.
"No!"
"I'm not going to bite you, Isaac," I said, with a broken heart. I munched his cheek with just my lips, and he smiled. "Is that what you were trying to do with Charlotte?" I asked.
"Yeths!"
I did it again on the back of his hand. "You can't use your teeth, ok? Just your lips."
"Ok, Mommy!" He was excited that we now seemed to understand each other.
"Isaac."
"Yeths, Mommy?"
"I'm really sorry I bit you."
"It's ok, Mommy"
Before bed tonight, I asked Isaac if he wanted to nibble Charlotte's cheek with me. He still seemed hesitant, and honestly, as he approached her face, so did she, but we both nibbled her sweet little cheeks. Kisses and toddler slobber all over her teeth marked cheek brought a smile to her lips and her brother's, as he relished the chance at righting a wrong.
19 My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, 20 because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires. James 1: 19-20
Dear Jesus,
Give me the wisdom to know when discipline is necessary, and when it is not. Help me to be much slower to anger, and never allow a necessary apology to go without saying.
I bit her any chance I could get. I was 2 and a half years old, and who knows what was going through my mind, but my dad was anxious to put a stop to it.
So, this one time, we were driving somewhere. In the back seat, my sister was strapped in secure right next to me, helpless to defend herself and no where to go. I bit her. She screamed, and I felt the wrath of our father. Some dad's threaten, "Don't make me pull this car over and come back there!" Well, my dad wasn't one for empty threats. He pulled the car over, walked over to my door, opened it, and bit me.
The memory is more of a foggy dream to me than anything, probably encouraged by the repetition of the story over the years. But one thing is fact: I never bit my baby sister again.
Today, I put the baby down on the floor to play next to Isaac. He smiled and made faces at her. All was well. I turned my back to look up a potential birthday gift for our soon to be 3 year old, online, and then it happened. I heard the blood curdling, tear inducing, heart breaking scream of an infant who had just been given a shot. I spun my chair around to a very concerned, very confused, very fearful for his bottom, 2 year old. He saw the anger in my face, knowing she would not scream like that for no good reason. I saw the mark on her cheek.
Isaac ran to me, "Mommy, she no like dat! She no like dat!"
I could hardly contain my anger. Isaac has been left alone in a room with Charlotte for a few minutes or more before. What on earth did he do?
"Isaac!" My accusatory tone was unmistakable. "What did you DO?!" I ran to her and immediately noticed the teeth marks in her cheek, prominent, already bruising. He was nervously silent, and I already had my answer.
"Did you bite her?!"
"Yeths."
"Why would you bite her?!" Everything was a yell. I was so mad. How did such a sweet and happy boy inherit such a horrible trait...from me. It's possible I was even more angry at myself.
He didn't have an answer. I popped the back of his hand, "Go to your room!"
His heartbroken cry traveled all the way up the stairs while I cuddled my recovering, sniffling baby girl. Knowing my own history, I decided to take care matters before they continued. After a few moments of cooling down, I called Isaac back downstairs to apologize to his sister and explain to him how wrong that was. The problem with trying to talk and rationalize with him, is that his response to anything he doesn't quite understand is yes. Many conversations have gone like this:
"Isaac, is it nice to hit?"
"Yeths, it nice to-"
"NO, IT IS NOT NICE TO HIT!"
...and repeat. We've had that exchange so many times, I can't figure out if he's confused by the word, "not," doesn't understand the difference between "yes," and "no," or just enjoys pushing my buttons. He tends to hit when he's excited. Maybe he thinks they are playing. I don't know, but it's been a point of contention with us for a few months now.
So I sat him down, showed him Charlotte's boo boo, and told him how he hurt her. He had a look of concern on his face, but also confusion. I asked him to apologize.
"Sorwy, Charlotte," he said, after kissing her boo boo.
I asked, "You aren't going to bite her again, are you?"
"Yeths,"
"ISAAC, NO! It is not nice to bite!" I interrupted, frustrated. "That hurt her!"
He still seemed confused, "Sorwy, Mommy."
"Isaac, do you want me to bite you?"
"Yeths,"
I am so confused by his constant need to respond with this, but ok.
"Ok, I'm going to show you what it feels like to do what you did to Charlotte. I'm going to bite you on the cheek, ok."
"Ok."
I leaned over and gently bit until he yelled, "OW!" The tears began to flow. He looked betrayed. I didn't even leave a mark, but he understood that it hurt.
"That hurt, didn't it?"
Crying and wiping his tears he replied, "Yeths!"
"Now, are you ever going to bite Charlotte again?"
I braced myself for a repeat of my ongoing frustration when he cried, "Noooo."
I was heartbroken, but felt the mission had been accomplished. I hugged him and held him tight and told him how sorry I was that I had bit him. The rest of the day went on as usual.
I shared the events of the day with my husband upon his return home from work. I was aggravated, concerned, and confused by Isaac's response to the whole thing. We've talked about biting. He's heard me yell several times when Charlotte has clamped down while nursing. He would run to me and ask, "What wong, Mommy?" When I would explain to him what happened he would say, "She bite you like dis?" and clamp his teeth together, and I would say, "Yes," and explain how that hurts.
"So why would he think this was something she would like?" I asked while chatting with Jelani.
"Ohhhh, I know why he did that." Jelani went on to explain to me how they've played on the floor with Charlotte, together before, and he (Jelani) would 'nibble' her cheeks with his mouth.
My light bulb moment occurred as I remembered turning my back while he was playing in her face, making sounds, "booga booga boo," at her, just before the screaming. Guilt rushed over me like a waterfall. He is not even a smidgen of the horrible child I once was, just because he's mine. He thought he was playing, legitimately. His look of confusion at her response to his playful 'nibbling' was genuine. He thought that's exactly what Daddy was doing! His heartbroken confusion at my form of discipline was real and gut wrenching, and, as I cry while writing this, I have never felt worse.
Epic. Mommy. FAIL.
Jelani laughed, "Well, he'll never bite her again!" But I had to make things right. Or at least as right as I could.
We were going to the park for a walk, so before getting Isaac out of his car seat, I leaned over, "Isaac, when you bit Charlotte, were you trying to play with her? Like Mommy and Daddy do?"
"Yeths," he looked hesitant.
"Like this?" I asked, but as I leaned in to his cheek, he flinched and turned.
"No!"
"I'm not going to bite you, Isaac," I said, with a broken heart. I munched his cheek with just my lips, and he smiled. "Is that what you were trying to do with Charlotte?" I asked.
"Yeths!"
I did it again on the back of his hand. "You can't use your teeth, ok? Just your lips."
"Ok, Mommy!" He was excited that we now seemed to understand each other.
"Isaac."
"Yeths, Mommy?"
"I'm really sorry I bit you."
"It's ok, Mommy"
Before bed tonight, I asked Isaac if he wanted to nibble Charlotte's cheek with me. He still seemed hesitant, and honestly, as he approached her face, so did she, but we both nibbled her sweet little cheeks. Kisses and toddler slobber all over her teeth marked cheek brought a smile to her lips and her brother's, as he relished the chance at righting a wrong.
19 My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, 20 because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires. James 1: 19-20
Dear Jesus,
Give me the wisdom to know when discipline is necessary, and when it is not. Help me to be much slower to anger, and never allow a necessary apology to go without saying.
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