Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Morning -

This morning warrants a post. My whole family is reeling from emotional exhaustion and constant running. We are a product of ALWAYS on the go. Even when we are home, we seem to be on the go. How. Easy. Even when I am home, I need to go a million, frillion places. Even if those places are multiple rooms within my home.


The only thing my children want from me, is a moment. A moment of holding, snuggling and loving. I 'try' to accommodate both, I am afraid I fail most times. If I am sitting on the couch loving my children, then my laundry continues to lie on the bed and will not get put away. If I sit on the couch and tickle my children, then the dishes in the dishwasher will not get put away, nor will the soap-scum ring disappear from around my tub. *Aye.


My daughter can sense the days when I really need to get moving. This was one of those days. I slept late, why because I am not sleeping well, and when I finally got to sleep, I had to get up. So I scoop up Pyper and head up stairs. I grap a cup of milk, her oranges and attempt to sit with her. I try to give her 5 to 10 minutes in the morning - of just her and I. She wants nothing to do with me. Well, at least that is what I think. My first indication was the screaming and the hitting my chest once I sat down with her. So I set her next to me, that seemed to be the end of her little world. She screams like a girl who just lost one of her new shoes. I am at a loss. It is 6:30 am and I am at a loss. My morning did not get any better. Pyper had spurts of being semi-entertained. She would eat, smile at her brother and watch a little bit of Franklin. When she felt like it she would make her way to my room, stand in the door way and scream at me.


* I get it, you are mad. You are prob tired of running around like a chicken. Me too.


I try to get up to hold her, she screams at me. She then resorts to throwing herself down on all fours and banging her head on the tile floor. Each bang sounds like a dull *thud and is followed by a meek ow. She looks at me and says "ow" and continues to bang her head once again.


When did children determine that self abuse was a productive way to inflict guilt?


I am at a loss. I go towards her, she runs away. I ignore her, she runs towards me, and just about the time she reaches me she throws herself on the floor again.


Mind you this whole time my 6 yr old son, is content watching TV and getting ready for school.





Last night we had a very similar incident with Pyper. I say 'we' because my husband got a good dose of it as well.


I sit on the couch with my son and he begins to read his new library book. Pyper comes running around the corner and sees us. She acts as if she wants on the couch, but really she just wants between us and then wants to take the book. I tell her 'no'. This produces a FIT. She throws herself on the floor and starts screaming. Lance rounds the corner to see what I have done.


What have I done?? I have ignored her.


Rylan and I continue reading the book, ignoring her. We read louder, and don't look at her. She is pissed. She starts trying to take the book, throw pillows etc. Lance giggles from the hallway. I continue to ignore her. * UGH.



Is this really the product of a girl turning 2 or is she trying to tell me something?

She does not act like this with anyone else, but ME. She does not act like this with the sitter, my husband, my mother etc. Just me. She saves all of the drama up for me.

Listen, little miss. There is only room for one drama queen in our house, I have priority. I fear our learning curve will be more like a steep mountain. I pray this is a stage and not some emotional scar I have created for a lifetime. You know, one where she will blame me later for the fact that I just didn't get it.

If I don't get it, it is not due to lack of trying. I am trying, perhaps I am trying too hard?

I have a bit of a situation that I don't know how to address.
What to pray for? I have tried patience, not working. I have tried *ignoring - not working. I pray for a new approach, for a new indication of how to comfort her. Could we bond over ice-cream? Ben & Jerry could be her next new word.

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