Feeling all the feelings.

Parenting can be fun.  Or hard.  Or both.

J and I have worked everyday of the last (almost) 7 years to let Kiddo know that we love her.  No matter what!  We want her to know she is safe to tell us things.  That she can share with us.  That we ALWAYS have her back.  That we always will.

And look at that face!

How can you not love it?!?!

Well, we do and that’s that.

Some days however…..

Last night, I needed to run some errands as life is gonna get wonky for the next week.  Don’t worry, I’ll have a whole post on the wackiness incoming soon, but I don’t want to jump that or bury it, so it can wait a few days.  Check back, though, it will be a doozy.

I was going to be gone for about 15 minutes.  J was on dinner dishes.  Kiddo was getting herself ready to shower.  I figured that I would come home to a Jammied Kiddo and J either getting ready to have her Mumma Time or maybe even in it and I would have 20 minutes to chill before it was my turn to have Dada Time!

Nope.

I came home to a pink faced child, in a jammy shirt and undies crying on the floor.  Why, you ask.  Well, you see…. Her jammy pants were inside out.  She knows how to make that right, we’ve seen her do it.  She’s appeared in front of us fully dressed bragging on herself that she rightsided the pants or shirt “all by herself” and wanting praise for that.  

Last night, it was just full on 6 year old melt down.  She couldn’t even.  Mumma is faster.  Dada is better.  “I HAVE A PROBLEM AND YOU AREN'T HELPING ME!!!!”

Ok, no yelling at Mumma and Dada.  

I CAN YELL BECAUSE YOU AREN’T HELPING AND THAT’S NOT FAIR! 

Kiddo, you can do it yourself.  In fact, it would be done and over with by now if you would just calm down and do what was needed.  We stayed calm, but were firm in our boundary.  You do not get to yell at us.  Well, she did again and then once more after that.

That was the breaking point.  

She was going to get an ice cream treat, but after the yelling and freaking out and not listening and not trying… No ice cream.  That is take away.

Cue another melt down.

It’s now been about 8 minutes.

Kiddo, you don’t get to scream and yell at me and Mumma.  You can go in your room (no slamming doors) and yell and cry into your pillow or to PorkChop or Poley all you want.  You can draw mad pictures or write that you think Mumma and Dada are buttheads all you want.  Go, feel the feelings, but do not scream and yell at us.

FINE!  And off she stomps to her room.  J and I were on the floor as we got ourselves down to her level to try to speak with her.  J gave me a high 5 on the parent calm and not yelling back and keeping things mellow.

Then, she marches out to hand us this… taped and created JUST for us.

Wow, Mumma.  Look at that.  Kiddo hates us.  That’s too bad, because I love her Soooooooo much.  

Kiddo was in the process on marching back to her room and stopped just behind a chair (kind of half out of our view) to see if we reacted.  When we just loved her and sent love to her she almost growled and stomped back to her room.  That’s no small task for a string bean 6 year old in bare feet, but she managed.  

A minute later, we got this….

I had to bite my cheeks to not laugh at her.  She also knows my faces and when I’m amused at her and her antics, she will tell me to not smile or “I hate that face” when I’m just waiting on her to see herself and realize her actions.  So, I bit my cheeks and turned away.  Thankfully, J was there and she said, “Wow.  More hate mail.  Thank you for wanting to express your feelings to us.”  

The look was worth it.  Shock and a tiny bit of relief, but also you could see the confusion and anger.  She was pushing and in return, instead of pushing back, we just loved more.

She marches off again, full of the righteous fury that only a 6 year old with ice cream take aways can feel.

J and I quietly sit and have a laugh and shake our heads.  What’s next if she doesn’t calm down?  Can you talk to her?  How long do we let her go on like this before more consequences?  Then the door opened again.

Here she comes, but instead of stomping in with more hate mail or papers, she comes out with a few tissues and a pink and cried out face.  We all talked, about the papers, the yelling, the actions, and we got an apology without prompting one.  She offered an apology without needing to be told to apologize, so she recognized that she was out of bounds.

I talked with my therapist about that this morning and she was very proud of us.  That was set a boundary and didn’t wiggle on that, but also let Kiddo express herself and be upset.  Also, Doc Jenn noted that we don’t need to take it too much to heart, as kids say things like that sometimes because they don’t fully understand the words.  We know that, which is why when she was screaming and giving us mail we just restated the love and the punishment.

We all feel things.  Good, bad, neutral, frustrating, upsetting, etc etc.  Kids do as well.  Only, they don’t have the tools and experience to know how to handle it.  That doesn’t mean we should discount her feelings and emotions, it means we need to be tougher than her words and let them roll off and be parents.  Teach.  Guide.  Love.  Understand.  Empathize.  All while still holding the line and setting the boundary.  Because I wanted to go nuclear on her.  I wanted deliverance.  I wanted quiet.  Instead, I accepted, I listened, I let her vent, and then I offered her a hug and told her I love her no matter what.  

It’s not easy.  I want to do everything for her.  I want her to never feel sadness or hurt or grief or anything bad.  I want her to have smiles and rainbows and joy and ease in every moment of every day for the whole of her life.  That’s impractical and impossible.  And it doesn’t make for a good human being.  Part of me being me, being here, being the parent I am and the partner to J that I am is those hardships, those learning moments, those lessons from life.  Sure, some of my lessons were extreme, but I can set a boundary with my child and other people in my life.  I can figure out difficult situations.  I can solve problems.  Because I was taught that.  Some by life.  Some by friends and others.  Some by just watching others and seeing a situation.  Some by my family and parents.  Some by screwing up in the past and getting better now.  

Even getting to this point in parenting was learning.  Neither J or me speak with our parents.  Long story.  But we can’t ask for help there.  We can’t ask, was I like that, or Beaners, or Grub, or Jesters?  We just have us.  We made mistakes along the way.  We yelled back.  We failed.  And now, we get better.  Maybe just that day, maybe for longer, but there’s no book on this, just broad strategies and they don’t always work.  

By talking with, understanding, and supporting Kiddo…. Even when she “hates” us, we let her know that we got her back.  Even when it’s against us.  Feeling are real.  Sometimes, you need to wait for the feelings to pass to get to the real of the issue or the real problem.  You have to let it roll off and then regroup and parent, love, guide, and build trust.  I think we did that last night.

Let’s go, Kiddo… Me and Mumma love you.  No matter what.  Even when you are madder than you have ever been.  Even when your ice cream is take away.  We love you when you're happy.  We love you when you’re sad.  We love you when you’re grumpy… and even when you’re mad!  That won’t ever change.  Just no more yelling at us, please.