Taking Those Deep Breaths

When I had two little babies, that would be Ocean and Ethan, I was excessively worried about "doing it right".  As far as I was concerned, I was pretty messed up from my dealings with an uber dictator Mom (I'm sure she'd like that).  In her defense, she was a single parent who grew up in the late 60's with a very traditional Mom and Dad and two brothers - she was also a middle child.  She embraced the power of women (which I doubt her father approved of) and became a hippie who never really went yuppie.  Which would probably have made for a wicked upbringing except she went all tyrranical with two daughters. Just my opinion.

Anyway, before I had kids, I remember seeing an episode of Oprah who was interviewing a guy who wrote a book called "How to Behave So Your Children Will Too".  Nana had always told me that the reason my Mom and I fought so much is because we were so much alike.  I vowed to respect that my daughter was likely to be like me, and she is, and I try to respect it because it's more important to me that I allow all the kids a chance to have their say, stand up for what they think is right and hearing them out when they disagree with us.  Which means taking some deep breaths once in a while but so far it's nothing with the other ones when compared to Hunter.

Whose kid is he anyway?? Sure I'm kind of particular, slightly perfectionist, yet not OCD or anything.  And Geoff.. well he's an anal safety guy I will admit, but he's not overbearing about much else.  Ethan is the most happy-go-lucky guy I've ever known; Aaron is super excitable but can also be moody, and Hunter... that kid is just off the charts some days.  Sure he's three, but he won't be three forever and I'm kind of worried he might be nutso forever.

Hot Chocolate.  Yes, this is about hot chocolate.  He asked for some hot chocolate he "can blow on".  In the past he has asked for "hot chocolate that isn't hot".  We get it, cool it down.  So I made him hot chocolate - not super hot but like a minute in the kettle which was filled with cold water so it wasn't even close to boiling.  If he doesn't ask for milk and you put milk in, he'll freak, so I didn't.  He asked for marshmallows.  I put some in.  Apparently he meant "on the side".

So for the following ten minutes, he cried, I moved the hot chocolate because he has upon occasion dumped something you didn't get right, and I fought with him to enjoy his hot chocolate.  He wanted the hot chocolate, I gave it back.  He tried to fish the marshmallows out but it was hot and he cried some more.  "Use the spoon!" (that was in the cup) I told him,  He tried that.  He was happy.  (#$&%)

I love my kids, I really do - and I'm hoping that allowing them to have their way sometimes will make them stronger people - I'm not trying to raise doormats here - but you have to do a lot of breathing sometimes.  Not that that's a bad thing entirely - I would say I spend the rest of the time holding my breath when I'm waiting for the inevitable daily fights to break out.  So maybe this is just their way of keeping me alive.  Well that's a better way to put it I guess.