Wednesday, March 16, 2011

This Is Normal?

After the experiences I had with Carly over the weekend, I decided I needed to look for some new methods of discipline and communication that might work better for both of us.  I went to the wonderful world wide web to look for books that I could check out from my local library that might give me that inspiration.

The book I came to choose seemed to fit my child in title only (so much for "don't judge a book by its cover) "Raising Your Spirited Child."  Carly is often times described as a "firework" or "ball of energy."  So, "spirited" seemed to fit right in.  I got 27 pages into it when I learned something relieving and disturbing.  Carly was not, by definition of this author, spirited (relieving).  She is a normal child (disturbing).

What was disturbing to me was having my mother tell me on Sunday that Carly is "not too different from her mother."  Here, all my life, I had been brainwashed to believe I was the "perfect child."  I believed I never caused my mother any heartache or pain and that I was happy, peaceful, cute, squishy and agreeable.  Or in one word PERFECT.  I now, at the age of 31, know that I was not perfect.

Isn't my mother amazing, being able to string me along for all of these years boosting my confidence by allowing me to feel like I was such an easy child.  She recently confessed an experience from my early-childhood where I was being stubborn one morning and got mad at her when she put sugar on my cereal and in one of her rare moments of frustration (see, my mom is still perfect in my eyes) she told me that I was an "ugly, ugly child."  It still haunts her and she still feels bad for saying that.  I do not recall the experience.  I was not scarred (therefore giving me hope that I have not yet scarred my children).

The truthful stories of me as a rotten, snot-nosed child rear their ugly little heads each time I share with my mother a scene from the day before that I had suffered through with Carly (or Abi...but never Connor or Dakota).  Like the time I cut my hair, or ran down a busy street, or re-arranged the furniture in a neighbors house or didn't deliver the newspapers on my route to the houses but instead the dumpster.

I got what I was.  I have been told that I was a normal child.  (If that is normal, then what is Connor?)

The relief came when I realized that Carly is "normal" and that like every other child, you have to fish around and experiment with different methods of communication and discipline.  All parents know that "what works for one child probably won't work for another."  And the ever so popular "it's a phase" phrase comes in to play quite often when speaking with other parents who have waded through these murky waters.
Each of the kids faces and body language captures their personalities perfectly in this picture!

So I dedicate this post to all of those parents who have had to face the challenge of discovering different communication and discipline techniques with their own offspring.  As well, I plead with you to share with me what worked best for you when your super-duper-happy-as-a-clam-silly-as-a-goose-carefree-as-a-bird child acted like a three year old and didn't listen or obey.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Welcome to McDonald's

At least, that is what Abi calls her little "store." She will greet you kindly from behind the counter and invite you to sit on her bed for a spell while she makes you french fries and gets you a Diet Coke.
Making this little table skirt for Abi took more time than I had imagined (life beckons and sassy skirts must be put on hold), and despite the fact that it is just a hair too small, I am happy with the outcome, mostly because Abi is happy with the outcome. It was necessary to borrow two sewing machines for this project because 1) I don't own one and 2) my mom's machine is missing a zipper foot which was necessary for the piping. I had to cover the small table that used to hold a television, that is now in the room that Connor and Carly share (I know, the tiles say Abi and Carly and someday I hope they can share a room, but right now, that's not an option we can take as drama pursues between the two siblings). There is this cardboard type backing and Dakota was trying his darndest to take it off, and seeing as how Abi got attached to the table being in the location it was at (I had moved it only to vacuum behind it's original location) I just couldn't move it. I made sure that the side nearest her had a slit in the middle for easy access to all of her imaginary fixins' (and learned yesterday that the bottom shelf makes for a great place for little girls to tuck away and hide themselves in). Now she has her own fun little play corner and I can get my daily dose of "Diet Coke" imaginary or otherwise.
You may recognize the lamp on the table from here. It was repurposed one more time before it became the girly lamp it is now. Connor had it in his room for a while and each panel was covered in a different colored paper rocket. I love things that are so easily morphed into something else (unlike my arms which have yet to be easily morphed into something akin to Kelly Ripa's).

Please Note: I will not be showing a close-up of the table skirt as I know there are many of my friends and family members who are much better at sewing than I am and I would rather they not see my skill-less-ness under that type of magnification.