Always Being Bad Cop

No one wants to be bad cop all the time, right?  Well, welcome to single parenthood!  Whether you are divorced or have lost your significant other due to death or your significant other travels a lot (I will include you in this, my friends) or you have made the choice to go this road alone—no one wants to be the heavy all the time.  Well, maybe I shouldn’t say NO ONE!  I am sure there are some people who don’t mind being the disciplinarian ALL THE TIME!  But that is a different story all together, right?

However, when looking at Team Williams’ discipline path, it can be tough to feel like you are the only voice saying things like: Please be careful!  Please use both hands!  Please don’t touch the stove!  Please hold my hand!  Please climb into the car!  Please go potty before we leave!  Please sit down on the couch!  Please pick up your cars so that Mommy doesn’t step on them!  Please turn off the light!  Please keep the water IN the bathtub!  Please use your fork and napkin!  Please put your shoes on before you go outside.  Please stay out of the street!  We wear our helmet when we ride our bike or our scooter, right?  We don’t hit, do we?  We don’t scream unless we are hurt, right?  We use our nice words with our friends, right?  We listen and pay attention when teachers are talking, right?  Please say ‘excuse me’ when Mommy is talking!  We don’t throw sand because it could hurt our friends, right?  And on and on and on and on!

I am sure that married/co-parent people still have someone who is the more “dominant” parent when it comes to discipline, but since I don’t live in their homes nor does my son, I have no clue how they do it.  I can only wing it in our home and hope that the plan I have in place, right now, is working/shaping him!  And, do I automatically become a nag simply because the only voice he hears as a yay or a nay is mine?  Am I giving the right balance of “sure!” and “heck no!”?

Always being the bad cop sucks!!!

Would love to hear your thoughts/input/opinions!

36 hours…

A couple of weekends ago, I had a bad one.  No matter what I did, it didn’t seem like I could get it together, as a mom.  K was in a mood—and granted, everyone is allowed to have a bad day, but we were jam-packed with activities with friends, so public meltdowns and attitude is NEVER fun.  It seemed like no matter what I did or how I corrected him, he was contrary. 

Well, within a 36-hour period, I cried at least 10 times.  Not just tears welling up in my eyes, but serious tears.  After about the third cry, I started keeping track.  Why not capture each moment where I had mini-meltdowns.  *Coach Gray was very supportive, just want y’all to know that!*

Sometimes, I feel really confident about this “being a mom” thing and on weekends like this, I feel like I suck worse than a moldy piece of bread! 

So here you go:

Some random commercial about a show on Lifetime Movie Network

K telling me “You my favorite Mommy!”

Tarzan—conversation with his mom about how they are different, but the same, “See we’re exactly the same!”

Tarzan—conversation with his mom when he is about to leave and he says, “No matter where I go, you will always be my mother.”

K refusing to say, “I love you” to me when he went to bed after a day of discipline and punishments.

K telling me he loved me, first words out of his mouth when he woke up in the morning.

Ending of Toy Story 3 (gets me every time!!!).

When K got dressed all by himself—head to toe (even socks and shoes—and on the right feet).

K telling me, “Our life is super big awesome Mommy!”

After trying to utilize different discipline techniques with K for being rude and sassy and not listening and _______________, and nothing seemed to work—I just sat down on the floor and cried!

DefCon 1

The tantrum.  The meltdown.  The random whining.  The kicking and screaming.  The limp body that won’t walk.  The thrusting of the body to the ground.  The complete breakdown in the middle of Target (or grocery store or the mall or a restaurant or church or airplane or ________________) that you have no clue as to why it was set off, but it did.  The possessed kid.  Clearly not MY child who is respectful and sweet and loving and caring and polite and…right?!  Hells yeah, that’s my kid. 

It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, I affectionately refer to it as DEFCON 1!  For those of you who have NEVER seen War Games (the movie with Matthew Broderick), you are missing out, but I digress!  There is a point in the movie where, due to his nerdy genius, he has broken down the walls of the US Government’s Safety Net and “war is eminent” so they “take it” to DefCon 1.  This is how I feel when K pulls a knock down, drag out tantrum/fight/fit/cry fest/whatever!!!  It’s at that point where war is most certainly eminent.  Who shall win this battle, well, that remains to be seen.

Ironically enough, before I became a Mama, I had all the illusions/delusions/deceptions/ideas/false impressions/misunderstandings about my parenting techniques.  When I saw moms in the stores/restaurants/the street/ ____________________ with a toddler who was pitching a fit, my mental response was elitist, snarky and certainly something to the effect of “Hrmph!  Get it together lady!” 

Well, fast forward to my current life.  Now my response, when I see the sad, frustrated, tired eyes of a fellow toddler mom, is, “Girl, I have a 3 year old!  I get it!!!”  What I want to add (but don’t) is a hug or a pat on the back and a reminder that this too shall pass (until they go through puberty, but again, I digress!). 

There are two versions of this kind of meltdown:  public and private!  If it’s private, you just put him in his room and let him work it out.  Thank ya Jesus for a door!  Just sayin’!  Now, it’s if public.  Oi Vey!  Make it stop!  No really, make it stop NOW!  The Public DefCon 1 experience is horrifying/unspeakable/appalling/and just strait up terrible.  I know that other non-moms and the general public are thinking, “Just shut that kid up!”  Or maybe they are judging my parenting skills (which are clearly not effective at that moment).  Usually when this happens, I make the choice to leave the shopping cart, leave the restaurant, leave wherever, and just go home and deal with it there.  The beauty of the private meltdown is that no one judges you for how you choose to handle this kind of temper tantrum! No one is giving you the “cough” hint or the evil eye or the “look over your shoulder” look. 

So, I know that I haven’t given a solution for this kind of catastrophe.  I wish I had some pearls of wisdom to share with you, my friends.  I wish I had all the answers (well maybe not all of them, but some would be nice).  All I can do is just be consistent with my son.  All I can do is remind him that no matter how he acts, I love him, but that kind of behavior is unacceptable.  I can continue to do things that I *think* are working while still remembering that he is, in fact, three years old.  Sometimes there is nothing you can do. Sometimes, all you can do is just laugh!  Cause if you don’t, you just might cry!

Are you using your listening ears???

Ever since K and I became a family and he started learning English, I have been trying to stress to him the importance of listening to people and following directions.  As I have been learning through this process—that’s a tough gig for a toddler.  Not only that, it’s a tough gig for a new mom!!! Listening isn’t something that is innate.  It’s truly a learned experience.  I don’t know that it’s even something that he enjoys, much less that he can really comprehend.  He has his own thoughts and opinions about how things should be done and when I ask him if he’s listening to me, many times, I get the blanket response, “I a good listener Mama!”  For those of you who have spent any time with me over the last year, you know that my mental response is QUITE different from my actual verbal response to him—but that is an entirely different post all together!!!

I have read books, articles, blogs and essays about this subject.  I have also talked to my friends/coworkers/my mom’s group and even strangers I have met at the park, McDonalds, and Chuck-E-Cheese who have/had toddlers. Somebody help a sista out!  What I have discovered is one thing: it is comforting to know that I am not alone.

So here we are, full circle to a moment in my day when I need K to listen to what I am saying and pay attention.  When I need him to listen to my words, I make sure that I am looking at him eye to eye and speak clearly and calmly.  I repeat myself.  I also make sure that I don’t ask questions, I make statements.  I remind him that I know that he is a good listener and I appreciate him listening to my words.  I also ask him to repeat back to me what I said to him and what he thinks I want him to do.  I try very diligently to tell him how proud I am of him, no matter what, but I need him to listen to me, his teachers, other adults, etc. 

Yes, here I go again making the connection between my toddler and the non-toddlers in my life—what I am trying to teach my son are the same kinds of things that I wish most adults knew and actually practiced.  “Are you listening to my words ?” is the same phrase that I want to scream at a cornucopia of people throughout the day at my job, at the store, on the street, while driving, hell, just in general!!!  At work, a place of higher learning, it seems as if there are only a handful of people who actually hear your words and act on those words. 

Is this an epidemic?  Isn’t this something that, again, we all should have learned in Pre-K?  Isn’t this just common courtesy?  Or is anything that we label “common,” not so common!  While I can’t chastise my son for not listening to me when he’s 3 years old, I will continue to be consistent with him.  I will continue to remind him that it’s important to listen to my words. While I will continue to remind him that I love him no matter what, but that there are consequences for him not listening to my words, I cannot do that to stranger, co-workers, and colleagues.  To them I say, “For the LOVE of GOD!  Listen to the words coming out of my mouth!!!” 

Cusp of Crazy or Calm Cool Collected

Discipline!  Oi vey!  This is probably one of the worst part of the parental gig! Seriously, it is!  We all know it’s a must.  We all know we have to do it.  We all know we should do it.  We all know… yadda yadda yadda!  But still—it remains.

I love K so much and waited so long for us to become a family that it’s tough for me to look at discipline in a way where all parties “win” (he gets the point of why he is in trouble and I don’t feel like a big fat meanie).  Yet, having said that, I sure as heck don’t want a snotty, rude, disrespectful, kicking, spitting, biting, brat—so discipline is a must.  I have read a ton of books and subscribe to a blog that gives me parenting/disciplining advice.  I also really try to employ the consequences method as opposed to punishment.  He has seemed to be responsive to it and we have been able to work some things out in this area (well…. mostly… he’s 3 y’all!  His critical thinking skills are forming, but…).

For those of you who have met my son—you know he’s a pretty sch-nazzy fella!  He is respectful and kind (for the most part) and tries really hard to be a “I a goo listen Mama, right?” kind of kid.  I speak to him in Amharic (his native language) as well as English and always give praise for even, at least, trying to be polite and use manners and whatnot.

However—the other day, as I came around the corner from the kitchen, I see him about to jump off the couch onto my grandmother’s heirloom coffee table that has a glass top, I screamed, “KWALI ROBEL MUSE!  WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?????? DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT”  He stopped in mid air, fell back on the couch, laughed at me, stood up, looked at me and sweetly said, “Chill out Mommy!  Jus chill out!”  What I realized was that my tone and body language wasn’t one of discipline or control but that of a crazy person!  I went strait up wack-a-doodle on him!  I might as well have been running toward him with my arms flailing in the air screaming nothings for all he cared—I would have gotten the same reaction from him.  

Here is the hard part—how do you not laugh to your 3 year old repeating back to you what you have said to him at least 100 times?!  How do you not laugh when you know that he doesn’t really know what “Chill out” means except that I say it to him when he is whining!  So basically, in his mind, I was whining!

I know we all share the same dilemma, but seriously, going wack-a-doodle as a solo parent isn’t cool.  Not cool at all Mama!