How Many No's Does it Take to Equal NO! ?

My older son has stopped listening to me and GEH. It's as if he doesn't hear us at all. He starts doing something dangerous. We tell him to stop. He continues. We pester him. He continues. We nag...until we eventually have to physically interrupt whatever he is doing to get his attention. (Then he often cries and flees the room.)

What is UP with this? I did not think that age 5 would be such a challenge...I feel like he is already in the midst of some teenage-angst-ridden rebellion...ignoring, ignoring, ignoring us...and I am suddenly thrust into the role of the relentlessly nagging annoying mother who just can't let it go....

And the non-listening also happens when we go out. For instance, I took him to Target (aka, China) today to get (lead-ridden) exterior holiday lights. And, of course, he wanted everything. And, of course, I told him "no."

I remember a woman I used to babysit for advising me about being sure to routinely tell my kids "no." If I don't tell them "no" she said, they will not be able to tolerate hearing "no"...and will turn into the kind of kids no one wants to be around. So, I say this word A LOT! I mean, like, over and over and over again:

"No, you can't."
"No, not now."
"No means no!"

And, still, my kid pesters me. I mean, is he just an innocent victim of consumerism? (But this goes on even at home, when he relentlessly demands his own way.) Or does he need a hearing test? (His doctor says his hearing is on par for his age.) Because, I swear, he asks and asks and asks for things, and I repeat "no" each time. And this has. gone. on. for. YEARS.

Is it me? Is my "no" just not convincing enough? Have we coddled him too much in other ways? Do the poor starving kids in third world countries have this problem?

Ugh. Next week, I'll tell you about the whining...

Drowning in Riches

Lately I have been overwhelmed by life. I've had an ongoing sinus headache for TWO (freakin') months--don't worry, I'm seeing my doctor--my psychology practice is really busy, my husband has been traveling for work, and I am still trying to be a (semi) stay-home mom...which means taking care of children, drop-offs and pick-ups, arranging babysitters, grocery shopping (don't EVEN get me started on the f'ing grocery shopping!), and feeding feeding feeding a family of 4. Really, in my attempt to "have it all", I am just overwhelmed.

I talk to my own therapist a lot about this, and her sense is that what I am complaining about could be re-conceptualized as an "abundance of riches." And, you know what? She is right. My life is full of REALLY good stuff (with the exception of the headache...). I have a healthy, happy family, a house, cars that work, money to buy food, and the ability to work part-time and also take care of my kids. So, what the hell am I bitching about? I guess that having this great ABUNDANCE of riches still overwhelms me, since I tend to go into a frenzy of trying to do everything just right. But, I guess I could swap it all for an abundance of crap...and then I'd be really screwed.

Sometimes, re-conceptualizing things is a good idea.

Rush, Rush

I imagine you've noticed how rude people can be driving their cars...zooming in front of you, cutting you off, not waiting their turn (GEH calls those "opportunists!"). On days when I am calm enough myself, I like to watch these patterns. It has been striking me lately that pretty much everyone is a narcissist when they drive (at least in my neighborhood). It's as though no one else's needs matter to the driver who ignores the stop sign to get in front of you. There's no empathy when someone tries to rush past you and nearly clips the back of your car. And...why is that?

Here's my theory. I think that our world is moving too fast, and everyone is, literally, speeding out of control. I imagine that the dude in the pick-up truck who almost runs me down is hurrying because he's late to work because he was up half the night with his newborn and overslept... and now doesn't want to lose his job. The woman in the zippy convertible who's on her cell phone trying to find a babysitter is too distracted to connect with the world around her. In a world where everyone wants everything instantaneously (if not YESTERDAY), we don't stand a chance at empathy. There is just too much pressure on everyone. And we're all victims here...I know I often feel like my own world is speeding out of control. I mean, when I am the asshole driver, I certainly have GOOD REASON!

With our cell phones, and text messages, and e-mail, and instant messages, and twitter and our endless so-called "connectedness" (more on that in a future blog), we have no time to ourselves. No time to breathe, slow down, or think. Maybe it's this phase of life, but I feel constant pressure to be 100 places at once...and this really makes it hard to imagine life from someone else's perspective. It turns me, temporarily, into a narcissist on the road.

The one thing that I think saves me (and hopefully you) from rush rush rushing so fast that I wind up in an early grave is, ironically, the very thing that makes me rush in the first place: motherhood. Even though I am always hurrying for drop-offs and pick-ups and babysitter curfews, it is my children who put things back into perspective. I swear, my sons are little zen masters! They are always IN THE MOMENT. I tend to be in the future, but they bring me back to right-here, right-now. There's no escaping the pull, either...if you are with them, there is no choice but to just BE WITH THEM. And, I am thankful for this. It's a real gift I get...to slow down and connect, instead of rushing right through their childhood.

I hope the other drivers out there have kids to go home to...so they can take a moment to slow down and realize that the man-made pressures of the world are, frankly, crap. This is honestly something I think about in my car, trying resist social-pressure-induced narcissism...

Salad Haiku

Cool, crisp leafy greens-
now I, with kids, miss you. You
take too long to eat.

Peeping Mom

I don't know if this would classify as a diagnosable mental disorder, or if it is even a problem, but I have to tell you that I am a peeping mom. You might have seen me occasionally peeking into your car window, or glancing in your open front door. But don't freak out. I am just checking to see if your car is covered in toys, cheerios, juice, crumbs, mud, wipes, and more toys. And I just want to know if your house has big huge piles of crap where organization once was. When I see that your car and your house are a chaotic, disorganized mess...I feel a wave of relief that I am not alone, a sense of deep cosmic connection, and a reassurance that nothing is really wrong with me...well, except for this peeping compulsion.

Can you get tutoring for "mom brain"?

I recently agreed to run a panel discussion for a psychology symposium, as the panel's discussant. Sounds easy, right? Stand up, introduce the panelists, give a brief description of what everyone is here to talk about, then sit down...

But, actually, there is WORK involved. And I can't keep up with it. I get e-mails telling me what I need to do, including writing my bio, seminar learning goals, etc, and I can't seem to get it done...actually, I can't even remember the BASIC INSTRUCTIONS that I need to follow...you know, like how many goals to write, and when this is all due. WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY BRAIN? My capacity for concentration and attention to detail is utterly shot. I would want it back, too, if I could think about it for long enough.

I was encouraged by an article I read last year about motherhood improving cognitive skills, you know, from all the MULTITASKING we do. The main study cited in the article looked at rat mommies and noted that they were able to do about a zillion little rat things while caring for their pups (compared to their male counterparts). **NOTE: Are you noticing how decidedly unscientific this description is? And I have a Ph.D. HA!!** Maybe my brain is somehow stronger now...but I can tell you, it is not functioning properly!

I think someone should start a business of working for moms as their auxiliary brains. For example, this person could follow a mom around, making notes of what needs to be done, posting reminders and regularly whispering in her ear "don't forget the wet clothes need to go into the dryer" or "you should be doing your work and not writing your blog"...or, what the hell, maybe they should just do it for her! Who are these lazy, pestering jerks anyhow?!?

Oy. I need a drink. Speaking of drinks...Did I mention that I quit drinking coffee? It was giving me severe blood sugar crashes. :( Maybe this is my problem lately. Maybe those rodent mommies did so well in their multitasking because they got to drink coffee.

Here's my new hypothesis:

Mom Brain (minus) stimulants = severe cognitive decline

I'd research this myself, but, well...wait...what was I saying?

Gross

Yesterday, something was awry at kindergarten pick-up. I showed up, parked Tot-Tot outside in his stroller, and ran in to get Big Boy. He was sitting at a corner table looking distressed. He came out walking in a very awkward, stiff way, looking sheepish. I asked "is something wrong" and he mumbled, "I'll tell you at home." Then I smelled him...Ew. Gross.

I asked "did you make a poo-poo in your pants?" Looking VERY sad and humiliated, he admitted that he had. He'd apparently been playing on the playground and couldn't make it in on time. I quickly retrieved the tot, who was waiting just outside, grabbed the bag of emergency clothes I'd left at school, and we made a beeline for the kindergarten potty. After a (stinky) clothes-changing ordeal (that I'd rather forget), he was fresh and clean again, and ready to run outside.

Once we got home, the kids played together and Big Boy was in a fine mood. It was great to have solved the (smelly) problem, but I was left with another dilemma...What do I do with this gross, nasty underwear? Do I throw it out? No--I can't do that! It's from the Gap!! Do I WASH it? Ew. Gross. Who wants to do that? Finally, I decided to dump it in a bucket w/detergent and soak it overnight.

But, then, you still gotta wash it somehow...



...and then you gotta wash everything it touched...



And...ew, gross.

But, you know, I have to admit that (in addition to being thoroughly repulsed by this job) I actually felt proud of myself for taking such good care of my little Big Boy. I somehow managed to not feel angry or upset with him, I reassured him, and got him through his moment of humiliation...helping him to emerge with restored self-esteem.

And, to think...he was going to wait to tell me until we got home...you know, after RIDING in my CAR. (ew. gross.)