A test of patience

Posted on

09.23.09

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stones

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parenthood

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Maeby threw the biggest fit known to mankind yesterday that lasted over ninety minutes. There’s no talking to her, because as soon as I try to talk calmly, she screams in my face. SCREAMS! I waited for her to get tired of screaming at the top of her lungs, thrashing around like a crazy lunatic, and throwing shit all over the living room. I did my very best not to react to the insanity. I’ve heard that if you react to the fits, the kids will continue to throw them believing you’ll react again. Even if it means they have to throw that fit a while longer each time. So, because all the “experts” say to do it, I’ve been trying. But…

Do you even know how hard that is? I admit, I reacted a few times.

Although I tried to only do it without raising my voice or hand. Believe me, my patience was tested. If I walked to another room in the house to do something (and get away from the ear-piercing screams), she followed me. If I didn’t react, she screamed louder. When that didn’t work, she started throwing things around. She even tried to hit me a few times. At one point, she threw her clean training pants out the cat door into the garage. Then she immediately demanded that I get it. When I told her (calmly) that I wasn’t going to get it and returned to what I was doing, she took off the training pants she was wearing (that was full of pee!) and dropped it on the ground.

Now even though she was standing there completely nude, I didn’t react.

I did not want her to think that that was the way to get to mommy. So she stood there screaming. When I continued to do whatever it is I was doing – I don’t remember because my brain was exploding from the sound coming out of her mouth – she got pissed. She picked up that wet pull-up and threw it across the kitchen. THREW IT! And I snapped.

No. I did not go buck wild and start screaming and beating her. Instead, I squatted down so I was at eye level with her. In a calm but authoritative voice, I told her to pick it up and throw it in the trash. Of course, she screamed in my face and told me no. Lather, rinse and repeat. A few times. Still with the same tones coming from the two of us. Until. She grabbed it and stomped off to the bathroom to throw it away.

By the time she came back, the screaming had stopped. She stood there waiting. I asked her to get another clean pull-up and bring it over. Together we put it on her. She was still sniffling and crying, but at least she wasn’t screaming. I asked her if she wanted a cup of water. She said yes. So I told her to get a cup and get some water from the fridge. After drinking half a cup, she was calm.

Neither of us knew why the fits started in the first place.

It’s times like these that I have to remind myself that I love my kids. I do love them. With every inch of my soul. I just have to verbally remind myself so that I don’t lose my mind. I have to remind myself of all the good things and times that we have together. There are so many. They are beautiful, wonderful, silly and crazy. They warm my heart. It’s just that there are too many days where I’m overwhelmed with everything that my patience is worn thin. Add a child (or two) who refuses to voice what she wants or feels, but instead just cries. Whines. Or worse, screams. Not good for someone already hanging by a thread. I’m just hoping that I can continue to learn to let go of my stressors long enough to give my girls the best of me. Even if it means I have to try to curb the fits by pretending I don’t notice them. I’m also hoping it doesn’t take too long.

I’m trying. I’m really really trying.