One of the primary tenets of Parent Effectiveness Training, or P.E.T., is to stop using power and control as parenting methods. Everyone is equal in PET-land (although occasionally, some animals are more equal than others). But as DH and I attempt to separate ourselves from the old standbys of "because I said so" and "STOP THAT!" I fear that we may drown in the sea of power-seeking children we're raising.
Every morning I awake to the horrific sounds of squeaky voices escalating in the kind of shrieking fury you might associate with The Seed of Chucky. (Hey, if your parents were Jennifer Tilly and an evil little doll, you'd be pissed off, too.) Jacob, who used to wield absolute power over Danny, is now getting some pushback from our middle son. Danny has learned from his big brother how to scream like a banshee, and man, does that boy have him some pipes.
As does almost any mother, I know each precise slap, grunt and pinch from a distance. I know the difference between Danny's "he-hit-me" scream and Jacob's "he-bited-me" siren. And now we can add to the mix Benjamin's incredibly loud and furious wail, which we hear if he doesn't get that G-ddamned Enfamil in his fucking mouth this very fucking second, you BITCH! Voila, yet another boy clawing for control over his world.
Contributing to the spring fever of boy anger in my household is the fact that Jacob is on spring break G-dHelpUsAll, so the boys barely get a chance to breathe on their own. They are always in each other's faces, try as we might to split them up here and there. Someone's always getting the shaft; if I take Danny into my room so Jacob can watch the Cubs and play his incredibly complicated game of SetOutAllTheThomasCardsAn dChartThem, Jacob is jealous because he wants to be with Mommy. And Danny is pissed because he wants to watch Jack's Big Music Show on the TiVo, where we can play The Grumpy Squirrel show infinitely with no worries about tapes or DVDs. (Thanks, Flea, for the reco. We LOVE "Grumpy.")
And of course, Benjamin needs attention everyseconddamnit. That's what I feel like, when all three are freaking out -- like there's not even breathing spaces between words. DictatorDanny insists that Mommy stay home and snuggle in Big Bed so I leave for work later and later every day, where I sit in a stupor and test our systems in a hallway (seriously, a hallway). Then I go home and get attacked by the kids, who fuss and fight and claw their way ahead of each other in the Immediacy Race before collapsing, protesting, into their beds.
Either this will all slowly melt away and the kids will arise from the new challenge of A Third Child a little older and hopefully closer, or our apartment will implode from the constant tension into a rubble of crayons and spit-up.
posted by: DH (reply)
post date: 04.11.06 (5:00 am)
So you're saying that everything's great.
posted by: JT (reply)
post date: 04.11.06 (5:22 am)
Reply to:
Yeah, I'm a fairly positive, glass-is-half-full kinda gal, after all.
Did ya like the Seed of Chucky reference? That was for you.
posted by: scubadiva (reply)
post date: 04.11.06 (4:34 pm)
Gawd this wore me out just reading it. You have my respect.
posted by: surrogate (reply)
post date: 04.12.06 (3:45 am)
Good thing you're not wearing a constant blood pressure cuff... the readings might scare you into even higher blood pressure.
Today's montra: "This is bliss... this is bliss... this is bliss."
posted by: flea (reply)
post date: 04.17.06 (3:37 pm)
All through my adolescence and my 20's, I never understood women who had indiscriminate sex with musicians. And then, when I heard the Grumpy Squirrel, I suddenly understood.
posted by: JT (reply)
post date: 04.18.06 (3:14 am)
Reply to Flea:
I never had that problem. Something about musicians, man. Wow.
By the way, Grumpy Squirrel man sent me his phone number... they're interested in licensing the Music for Aardvarks program in the Chicago area. I'd e-mailed to find out about it. I wish I had the money to buy a franchise -- wouldn't that be a fun business?