Friday, June 11, 2010

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

 Sometimes my own hypocrisy as a mother floors me. I am NO fan of lying, bending the truth, fibbing, or "exaggerating" (Read: Lying) although I DO embellish (notice the slight variation from exaggerate, ahem) and I am noticing more and more that I am a flat out hypocrite when I'm desperate.

I'm not proud of that.

Today, for example, I was smack in the middle of being exhausted, nauseous and wanting nothing more than to get in bed and curl up. With 4 kids running around, wrestling on my bed, and jumping on and over me, that was a pipe dream. Nevertheless, I did my best to cuddle in my comforter in the hopes of catching a few winks, even just a quick doze.

I was SO desperate, in fact, that I allowed my kids to do things that just earlier today I said they were never to do again. E likes to get her basket of barrettes out and spread them all over her bedroom floor. It's great fun for her, but makes for a pierced foot and lots of unflattering faces and muffled cursing by me at 3 AM. The boys like to play with the bobble heads their dad has collected over the years for them, but they tend to break them. Every single one now looks like it just returned from a tour in 'Nam.

Sooooooo, today, as I was miserable and pleading with God to allow me 15 minutes to rest, I found myself not only allowing them to do these things, but actually suggesting that they do them! That's pathetic. It sends such a mixed message. I really, really hate that.

But I was so sick.

I'm pleading with the jury for leniency. And may I just add that Joe worked a stretch today, so he left at 9  AM and won't get home until...I don't even know when... but it's already 10:00 PM now...

I'm throwing myself on the mercy of the court.

I realize as I think about this that I do it in other areas with the kids too. For example, [I think] we've finally broken E of the bottle. Yes, she's 2 1/2, but we've had some false alarms with breaking in the past 6 months or so. Every time I tried to break cold turkey she stopped wetting her diapers (YES...she's STILL in diapers, give a girl a break, okay?!) so I automatically feared dehydration. Joe and I freaked out one night after the 3rd dry dipe in a row so he ran over to Giant Eagle and bought a new bottle...since she's a bottle snob and only likes one specific kind...and I dashed upstairs, woke her up, and pleaded with her to drink it. Nothing like offering a smoke to someone trying to quit smokng, right? But the relief I felt watching her finally drink: Priceless.

So , I notice that when she wakes up at 2 or 3 in the morning and cries for a bottle, I don't know if it's the sheer exhaustion, the weak spirit, or the fact that I would buy her a car if only to get back to sleep, but I cave. Every. Time. How's that for a mixed message? She knows that if she cries loud enough and long enough (and boy can she ever, diva that she is), mommy will cave. Mommy may yell a little and say some not very nice things, but she will cave. She has me totally figured out. I never wanted to be one of those moms. But here I am.

Today I think we started off right. We all decorated a package to put her "babas" in to send up to Heaven with the Baba fairy who will deliver them to all the babies in Heaven who don't have babas. (Please don't question me on the legitimacy of the story! NO, I don't believe in fairies, and I'm pretty sure babies in Heaven don't need bottles, but it's a concept she can understand.)

So, we put her babas in the package and put them in the mailbox. She knows that "Mr. Mailman" will pick them up and send them to Heaven in a special balloon. (Man. I am just telling one whopper after another to this kid, aren't I??)

Anyway, we did the send off and then let her pick out a brand spanking new "sicky cup" (aka: sippy cup) at Target and she is now officially a "big grill." She went to bed with no fuss (thank you, Lord) and I think we may have done it! Cross your fingers!

Here are some pictures we took of depositing the baba package in the mailbox, and her new sippy cup in action.

Wow. All of my babies are getting so big.

Next hurdle: potty training Miss Thing. THIS should be interesting. Thank God we have hardwoods!

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