I know I promised a different topic for this next post, but something so absolutely ridiculous happened last night that I just have to share it. It’s the kind of ridiculous that showcases in all its glory the complexities of being a four-year-old, and raising a four-year-old. This, friends, is a tale of mammal proportions….that of a dolphin. It will make you groan, wince, roll your eyes, and oh yes, maybe even shed a tear.
And so it begins…
Ever since the school year began (a whole week ago), Ella has been a bit of a handful. Not sure why—maybe the change in routine can be to blame. With a four-year-old, who knows? But Matt and I had it up to here (insert your own tolerance threshold) with Ella’s behavior—the whining, the crying, the screaming and carrying on. Enough with the drama! So we came up with a nice little incentive for the week. Each day that she was what we deemed to be a “good girl,” she got a sticker on the calendar leading up to the big reward—a trip to Happy Joe’s. For those of you familiar with this delightful establishment, they’re known for their mighty delicious (if I do say so myself) taco pizza, and of course the games that spit out tickets to win prizes.
So okay, Ella made it through the whole week with stickers leading right up to Wednesday – pizza day. She was teetering on the edge yesterday, but I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. She was a “good girl.” (Not sure why I keep putting that in quotation marks, but it IS a relative term, is it not?) One foot inside Happy Joe’s and Ella could barely contain herself…she needed to play games immediately. We tried to calm her down enough to order our pizza and then set her free. She played. Our pizza arrived. Ella barely had four bites before heading back to "Play Land." Matt joined her to help score more tickets (as any good parent would do). Finally, it was getting late. I signaled to Matt that it was “go time.” The moment of truth…. How many tickets did we have and would it be enough to get something of any value? That ruled out toy jewelry, squirt guns, tootsie rolls, giant pencils…you get my point.
We earned 400 points, not bad, but unfortunately not enough to get any of the things Ella originally started rattling off that she wanted….. not enough for Barbie or the walkie-talkies…sorry, kid. So I started giving her ideas that I thought she would like.
“How about that jump rope?”
“No.”
How about that tie-dyed dolphin?”
“No.”
“How about that tiara and some chalk?”
“No.”
I was starting to run out of worthwhile options.
“Are you sure you don’t want that dolphin?”
“No.”
“Okay. I know! How about that cool Buzz and Woody dart game?” (You know the one….it’s a target with a Velcro ball that you throw at the bull’s-eye to get points?) Fun for hours, I thought. Or at least a few minutes.
After about 10 minutes of this (which seemed more like 20), Ella finally agreed, “Yes, I want Buzz and Woody!” We have a winner, folks! Let’s go home.
All was well…we got the kids in their pajamas, put Jaisa down and then I went to lay with Ella for a minute and we talked about our fun day. Then out of the blue, she started crying, “I want the dolphin! I don’t like that Woody game!” I tried to reassure her that she made the right decision. That game was awesome! She wasn’t buying it.
The crying escalated into a full-blown melt down. In between sobs, staggered breathing and trembling I heard, “Can you go back to Happy Joe’s and get my dolphin….PLEEAASSEEE?”
“I WANT MY DOLPHIN, I WANT MY DOLPHIN, I WANT MY DOLPHIN!”
Seriously. There was nothing I could do to calm down this poor, upset, overtired, overly dramatic little girl. Matt stepped in. After 10 more minutes of this, he lost it. Anger=louder crying. After 20 minutes, I got upset. What could I do? I tried to hold her tight and shush her (it works for infants). In my head I was swearing at myself for not listening to my gut. I knew she wanted that stupid dolphin. Apparently, the sheer volume of prizes was just too overwhelming for a four-year-old to make such an important decision. Why didn’t I step in? After 30 long minutes of anguish and Ella asking, “Can you go get my dolphin?” over and over again and me replying, “Yes, Sweetie, yes”, was I really going to be the crazy mother who goes to Happy Joe’s in her pajamas just before closing to return an opened prize and request a freaking dolphin for my impossible-to-please child?
Not a chance.
Sometimes we moms just have to tell our kids what they want to hear to get a little peace and quiet.
But just in case, where else can I find a dolphin?
Tell me…what would you have done?
Showing posts with label crying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crying. Show all posts
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Don’t Go! Part 2: Saying good-bye isn’t always easy…for baby.
Once upon a time in a land not far away—at our local daycare—a single tear streamed down my daughter Ella’s 8-month-old face… and then another and another as I turned my back on her to head to work. Suddenly her tears exploded into a full-blown fit, screaming and all.
Well, this came out of nowhere.
I was not prepared to see Ella so upset by my departure. Finally, she cared that I was leaving! She really does love me! Wait a minute. Focus, Jessica. Your daughter is in hysterics and somehow you have to figure out how to leave.
Nothing tugs at the heart strings like your child reaching out, pleading for you to stay, with tears instantly driving guilt deep into your chest like a knife. Oh, did it hurt! I did everything the magazines and books warn new moms against—I picked her up, held her, smothered her with kisses and prolonged the visit, making my departure that much more painful.
As I pried the tiny, kung-fu grip from my shoulders, handed Ella to her daycare teacher, and backed my way slowly out of the room, tears filled my eyes too as Ella’s crying got louder and louder. I heard her sobs all the way out the door and it festered in my head for hours. Not a way you want to start the day.
How did my once happy-to-play-with-anyone child now crave my constant presence?
Doctors assure us that separation anxiety is a normal, healthy stage—a sign that your child is beginning to think about you when you aren’t with her. The problem is, babies learn about leaving before they learn about coming back. Makes sense why Ella reacted the way she did—she thought I was never returning! So, I began reading about different ways to help Ella cope and hopefully make saying good bye easier for both of us.
#1: Start small. Playing games like peek-a-boo with Ella helped her get the idea that Mommy goes, but comes right back. The things we do for our children—there I was draped under a blanket, calling “Where’s Mommy?” and then pulled the blanket off to reveal my smiling face to a room filled with hysterics. But this time it was laughter. Huh, she really thought this stuff was funny! Never have I been known for my comedic talent, but to Ella I was a comic genius! So I repeated the move again and again, feeling her laughter light up the room.
#2: Say no to strangers. Most babies go through the stage of separation anxiety best in their own environment with people they know well. But even leaving Ella with Grandma—a woman she saw on a weekly basis—would upset her from time to time. One thing I realized is the importance of slow transitions. When planning a night out with my husband Matt, we would make sure Grandma came early to play with Ella while we were still present. Soon she was having a blast and could care less whether we were there or not.
#3: Plan your exit. Sneaking away may seem like the easy way out, but do I really want to think about Ella suddenly realizing we’re gone and never getting a good bye? I don’t think so. She deserves a proper good bye. I just don’t prolong it like I used to do. Now when we leave, we give Ella a quick kiss and hug, tell her to have fun, and we’ll see her later. Then we bolt. Sometimes she cries for us, but we don’t turn back. It’s hard, but Matt and I know in less than a minute she will have forgotten we’re gone and be distracted by her newest audience.
#4: Let her cry it out. Yes, it felt awful to leave Ella while she was still crying, but like I said earlier, the theatrics didn’t last long. After a few minutes with a loving caregiver—who’s good with spontaneous distraction—she calmed down, as most babies do. Grandma would immediately engage her in a book, toy or even short children’s program. It made leaving so much easier for both Ella and us.
Even now at 4 years old, Ella still gets a bit upset when I leave the house, primarily because she wants to tag along. But now with the tag-team efforts of our youngest daughter Jaisa, who at age 1 is literally attached to Mommy’s hip most of the day, saying good-bye just doubled in difficulty. Once one starts crying, the other chimes right in, primarily for amplified effect. As sad as it is to leave those tear-streaked faces, I know they’ll be fine and I’ll come back to showers of hugs and kisses.
If you and your child are going through the struggles of separation anxiety, just remember it does get easier. Got any tricks for leaving the house without the kids going into hysterics? Please share!
Well, this came out of nowhere.
I was not prepared to see Ella so upset by my departure. Finally, she cared that I was leaving! She really does love me! Wait a minute. Focus, Jessica. Your daughter is in hysterics and somehow you have to figure out how to leave.
Nothing tugs at the heart strings like your child reaching out, pleading for you to stay, with tears instantly driving guilt deep into your chest like a knife. Oh, did it hurt! I did everything the magazines and books warn new moms against—I picked her up, held her, smothered her with kisses and prolonged the visit, making my departure that much more painful.
As I pried the tiny, kung-fu grip from my shoulders, handed Ella to her daycare teacher, and backed my way slowly out of the room, tears filled my eyes too as Ella’s crying got louder and louder. I heard her sobs all the way out the door and it festered in my head for hours. Not a way you want to start the day.
How did my once happy-to-play-with-anyone child now crave my constant presence?
Doctors assure us that separation anxiety is a normal, healthy stage—a sign that your child is beginning to think about you when you aren’t with her. The problem is, babies learn about leaving before they learn about coming back. Makes sense why Ella reacted the way she did—she thought I was never returning! So, I began reading about different ways to help Ella cope and hopefully make saying good bye easier for both of us.
#1: Start small. Playing games like peek-a-boo with Ella helped her get the idea that Mommy goes, but comes right back. The things we do for our children—there I was draped under a blanket, calling “Where’s Mommy?” and then pulled the blanket off to reveal my smiling face to a room filled with hysterics. But this time it was laughter. Huh, she really thought this stuff was funny! Never have I been known for my comedic talent, but to Ella I was a comic genius! So I repeated the move again and again, feeling her laughter light up the room.
#2: Say no to strangers. Most babies go through the stage of separation anxiety best in their own environment with people they know well. But even leaving Ella with Grandma—a woman she saw on a weekly basis—would upset her from time to time. One thing I realized is the importance of slow transitions. When planning a night out with my husband Matt, we would make sure Grandma came early to play with Ella while we were still present. Soon she was having a blast and could care less whether we were there or not.
#3: Plan your exit. Sneaking away may seem like the easy way out, but do I really want to think about Ella suddenly realizing we’re gone and never getting a good bye? I don’t think so. She deserves a proper good bye. I just don’t prolong it like I used to do. Now when we leave, we give Ella a quick kiss and hug, tell her to have fun, and we’ll see her later. Then we bolt. Sometimes she cries for us, but we don’t turn back. It’s hard, but Matt and I know in less than a minute she will have forgotten we’re gone and be distracted by her newest audience.
#4: Let her cry it out. Yes, it felt awful to leave Ella while she was still crying, but like I said earlier, the theatrics didn’t last long. After a few minutes with a loving caregiver—who’s good with spontaneous distraction—she calmed down, as most babies do. Grandma would immediately engage her in a book, toy or even short children’s program. It made leaving so much easier for both Ella and us.
Even now at 4 years old, Ella still gets a bit upset when I leave the house, primarily because she wants to tag along. But now with the tag-team efforts of our youngest daughter Jaisa, who at age 1 is literally attached to Mommy’s hip most of the day, saying good-bye just doubled in difficulty. Once one starts crying, the other chimes right in, primarily for amplified effect. As sad as it is to leave those tear-streaked faces, I know they’ll be fine and I’ll come back to showers of hugs and kisses.
If you and your child are going through the struggles of separation anxiety, just remember it does get easier. Got any tricks for leaving the house without the kids going into hysterics? Please share!
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