You’re Doing It Wrong

You’ve seen the memes. The laughable moments where, as an outsider, it’s clear to see the foolishness before you.

But have you ever looked at yourself and felt the same way? It’s not particularly funny when you realize you’re the idiot. I find it in moments of regret, when the dust has settled and I see the scene playback in my head.

We took our kids to Imagine RIT this past weekend thinking it would be a fun opportunity to learn about technology and innovation. I left with less brain cells than I arrived with, carrying out my daughter in a melting puddle of emotions. She wanted to be carried and, for a while, I obliged. As we trekked along, I explained that my arms were going numb and let her know that I needed a break. She asked for a piggy back ride to which I also obliged until I turned blue from the incessant choking. I explained that she needed to walk for a bit and that I couldn’t handle the strangulation any longer. Walking, it seems, was not on her agenda.

The brick buildings reverberated with the sounds of her tiny screams and stamping feet and I realized the day was taking a turn. I got down to her level, affirmed her feelings of frustration, firmly reminded her that I was not carrying her and explained that throwing a tantrum was not going to get her what she wanted. I’m pretty sure I read in some book that this is how you react to a meltdown, am I even close?

WWIII erupted as her frustration grew, my obstinance flared and the battle ensued. We gathered stares from strangers and I instantly felt like the memes I enjoyed musing over. In case you were wondering if a 4 year old can be louder than a marching band, the answer is yes. After 30 minutes of me crouching at her level, asking her to calm down with the promise that we could come to a compromise if she settled, the battle of wills raged on and the tantrum escalated.

We decided to launch Plan B: Walk away and ignore the meltdown, head to the exit and end scene. Pretty sure I also read this in a book, amiright? Picture now our little human chasing after us, screaming bloody murder, flailing herself on the ground and firmly advocating for her position of being picked up RIGHT NOW. In an effort to simply escape the crowd, we opted for the lift and tuck method, which is essentially carrying said screaming child underneath your arm as you flee the scene. It isn’t pretty.

We stayed calm and let the tantrum play out in the confines of our car, discussed what we could do differently once emotions settled down and moved on from the day-out-disaster, but I could’t shake that feeling of failure. Am I just doing it wrong?

“I kept asking myself, “When do choices become negotiations? When do boundaries become a power struggle?””

Sometimes it’s clear. I lose my mind, throw all my patience out the window, scream back out of frustration and feel guilty as hell wearing my “Worst Mom of the Year” badge while sulking in the corner. Other times, I feel like I’ve tried my best and still ended up with the worst outcome. What is perhaps more frustrating than knowing that you’ve been an idiot, is wondering if you’ve been an idiot.

When I stand firm in a decision - does it set healthy boundaries or does it create a power struggle?

When I give my kids clear choices and they request a compromise - does that empower them or undermine my authority and encourage further demands?

How do I consistently screw up something seemingly so simple and touted by parenting experts? Perhaps it’s not as simple as we make it all out to be. A friend of mine, recently pregnant with her first child, asked for some book recommendations the other day. It seemed like such a an innocent request but sparked this same sense of questioning, failure and fear that continues to surface as we enter different phases and stages of our children’s growth. Are you parent-led and believe that children need a routine and structure? Check out this book. Are you child-led and desire following your baby’s cues? This book is for you. I’ve never felt more divided than when I first realized that each parent carries a philosophy that will ultimately determine if they mesh with your own personal choices. Some amazing friendships grew out for our parenting similarities yet some incredible friendships fizzled due to our differences. At a time when connection to others is SO important, it can be disheartening to get lost in a sea of opinions and differing philosophies and approaches to parenting.

When our daughter was born, she was premature, jaundice and had trouble with breastfeeding. I remember a nurse coming to my room in the middle of the night telling me that my baby was starving and that I needed to give her formula right away. 15 minutes later another nurse entered, telling me to continue exclusively breastfeeding as it is the best thing for us baby. Emotionally drained, pumped up on hormones I remember sitting there sobbing and weighing which options was less likely to harm the sweet babe I brought into the world - talk about pressure. From the moment I became a parent, I realized that everyone had an opinion or piece of advice. It all felt, and often still feels, so conflicting.

So yes, perhaps I am “doing it wrong”. As easy as it can be to judge another person’s attempt at a task, I remind myself that things are not always as simple as they seem.

When it comes to strategies for dealing with meltdowns, techniques getting my kids to sleep through the nights or deciding when and how to feed babies… the only advice I have is to do whatever the hell works best for you and support whatever the hell works best for everyone else.