Hell Weekend Do-Over

I'm a glutton for punishment. It's the only logical explanation. You recall hell weekend, right? I've agreed to a do-over.

Shaking my head in disbelief.

Tomorrow morning we will load beach chairs and sand toys, suitcases and duffle bags into my new car (yup, I finally got the new car. Another post, another day.) I will drive us nearly three hours to attempt to have a relaxing few days.

I used to be a faithful Oprah viewer and I can still hear her, "When you know better, you do better." I'm not sure if this exactly falls under that quote, but I know better than to expect the next few days to be a breeze. In order to fully embrace realism, I give to you my expectations for the next few days.

• I expect Alice to force herself to stay awake on the ride to the beach. We will leave home at nap time and do everything under the sun to provide optimal sleeping conditions. She still will not sleep. Hatta and I will threaten severe punishment if she doesn't allow her body to fall asleep. No nap will be taken by Alice. She will start our "vacation" tired and irritable. Hatta and I will start our "vacation" stressed and on edge.
• Alice will not eat for two and a half days. Food will be prepared for her that isn't identical in color, texture, and consistency to the foods I prepare for her at home. Family members will beg Alice to eat, convincing her that she is running the show and calling the shots. I will spend double the days when we return home reminding Alice that she is in fact NOT in charge.
• Sleep will be lost. Alice will stay up too late and wake up too early. Unfortunately, the same will be true for Hatta and I. Sleep deprived Alice will become grumpier and bossier as the days pass. I will spend an equal number of days trying to help her catch up on sleep when we return home.

Oh friends, I think I'm having my very own Aha! moment right this second. Pertaining to this trip, I think I fully understand the quote. I know better than to expect this trip to go smoothly, so I won't. I will not stress about it. I know how it's going to shake down, why do I get upset when it goes exactly how I predicted?

So let me try again, now that I'm all enlightened and shit. My expectations for the next few days...

• I will enjoy the long drive in my new car. I will caress the new leather and learn the feel of all the buttons. I will provide Alice with hours of video to watch in hopes of not hearing a peep out of her.
• I will eat well. Screw everyone else!
• I will sunbath on the beach and allow everyone else to ensure Alice's safety.
• I will drink good beer and wine. No Coors light and Ménage a Trois Red for me.
• I will drink good beer and wine often.
• I will drink a lot of good beer and wine.

Wish me luck!

Time Out-Side

To be a good parent, my methods constantly have to evolve. As my darling daughter grows, I have to adapt to keep ahead of the madness. When I find myself shrieking obscenities, mostly in my head of course, it's time to reevaluate.

Last Friday was spent reevaluating. Alice was fresh off an I'm-sick-and-I-can-do-anything-I-want high. She walked around like she was queen of the castle and I was her lowly servant. Demanding tv at all times of the day. Eating when and what she felt like with no regard for the schedule. And the screaming. Ooh the screaming! Choice word being NO!! Not like a two year old who says it because it's novel and fun. Rather because I piss her off with my rules. How dare I try to control her and the things that go on in my house! Just who the hell do I think I am!

Traditional time outs weren't working. Removing privileges didn't bother her. I was forced to think outside the box on this one, outside the house maybe. In my head, I pondered the genius idea, my evil hands rubbing back and forth. I may have even cackled a time or two. My desperation had caused me to sink to a new low. I was going to use my knowledge of Alice's fear of bugs to my advantage. I don't think I've covered Alice's bug phobia yet, have I? She has an extremely grand, unwarranted, debilitating fear of bugs. It's so gargantuan it deserves it's own post. Soon, I promise. Anyway, I know that Alice hates being on the back porch by herself. You know, those man-eating flies. I've threatened before to stick her out back like I do with the dog when she's plucking my nerves. (I seem to compare my child to the dog a lot. Maybe I should reflect and get to the bottom of this.) The time had come to stop threatening and follow through. The next high pitch "NO!" she belted out and I was off. I took her by the arm, said nothing, put her on the back porch and shut the door. For a few glorious moments it was silent. When reality of her predicament settled in, the tears and the pleas to be let back inside started. She quickly waved the white flag, begging to be given a second chance, all the while looking back at the porch in fear of the imaginary bugs that were obviously coming to get her.

I had won. I wasn't proud of my below-the-belt tactics, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Eventually I hope she will want to be kind because it's the right thing to do, it's who we strive to be. Until that day comes, I'm okay with her choosing to be good to avoid consequences. And if I have to, I can ride the bug phobia for a very long time. Rest assured, dear Alice, juvenile detention center's are laden with insects.

Antibiotic Update

In case you were wondering what's going on at my house with Alice.

Now you know. It hasn't been pretty.

Think Again Before You Offer Judgment

I couldn't decide what I wanted to write about today. Two topics are in the forefront of my mind. One where I ask the Judgey McJudgerson's to kindly back away and come back another day, so I can tell my tale. Or the other one where I talk to them personally.

I'm opting for the latter. This post is for those who judge. Nay, since judging is human, this is for those who feel compelled to voice their judgment.

As my loyal readers know, Alice has recently challenged me as a parent concerning her pink medicine. We (Hatta and I) have received various forms of criticism from friends and family on our parenting skills, or lack there of, because we couldn't make our daughter take her medicine. I have a few things that I would like to get off my chest.

How dare you criticize my parenting! I'm a damn good mom and I know my daughter and what is best for her. I know her temperament. I have learned her strengths. I was the one that learned her needy cues when she was a newborn. I was the one that learned the exact floor board to stand and bounce on that gave just the right amount of give and squeak to calm her insistent crying. I learned to read her face to know just how much stranger anxiety she could handle before I had to intervene. It's been my job for over four years to keep my daughter happy and safe and now you're going to tell me how to do my job. I DON'T THINK SO!!

I don't care one iota how your father used to parent you. I don't give a flying fuck what you used to do when your kids were little! All I care about is my daughter and her physical and mental well being.

Do you think we didn't try to force Alice to take her medicine? What do you think we said, "Hey Alice, if it wouldn't be too much trouble do you think you could possibly, maybe take your medicine honey baby?" Of course when our attempts at reason didn't do the trick we tried what worked in the past when she was little. I'm not sure what amount of power and force you are okay using on a 35lb child, but my goal as a mom is not to teach Alice that I am bigger and stronger than her. I do not enjoy using my body against hers. So when after several attempts at forcing medicine down her throat didn't work, I stopped trying.

Funny thing, when I called the pediatrician, who by the way has been in countless medical publications and has won numerous awards, he never once suggested I hold Alice down and use force to get her to take her medicine. No. That wasn't what he said at all. Instead, he, the medical expert on children, suggested something else entirely. Something more civil.

So the next time you feel like offering your opinions on how I should raise my daughter, I suggest you just don't. Find something else to do with your time that you actually know something about. Cause, trust me, you don't have a clue about how best to parent my daughter.