I told Becca I was too tired to post the happenings of this past week but she told me it would be worth it and good to reflect on in years to come. This was a week from he^^. Jedd's dad had two minor heart attacks, I was unable to sleep without the aid of Tylenol PM, we found out our amazing neighborhood dog, Sarah, was taken to the pound, I dislocated Sonna's arm, a dismal job search in a dismal economy, and in an error of parenting judgement we made a consequence that was impossible for Sonna to avoid which resulted in taking her new scooter to the Salvation Army (major tears).
I'll start with dislocating Sonna's arm. Jedd was hosting a retreat at camp for the weekend so I was on my own for bedtime. It was time for bedtime stories and we usually lay between the girls. Sonna wouldn't move over so I could fit in between them. I asked Mara if I could lay on the edge instead and reach over Sonna to hold her hand. Mara said, "No, I need some of your love too". (She wanted me near her too). So I asked Sonna to roll over again but she wouldn't. I grabbed her wrist to help scoot her over and she immediately screamed. She rolled over and held her arm against her body and would NOT let me look at it. Still crying and screaming, I told her I needed to look at her arm. She said, "NO! Not you, only the Doctor!". She was very upset with me for having hurt her. When I asked Sonna if she wanted to watch a video (to get her mind off the pain) she said, "I can't walk!" (I think she meant to say "I can't move". Thankfully, Jedd was able to come home to help and in the meantime, I spoke to my cousin, Kathy, who is a Pediatrician Resident and she was so reassuring. She said that little kids' joints are very lax and that this happens a lot. She said they would probably take an x-ray at the E.R. Thankfully, Sonna's arm seemed to pop back into place all on it's own and she cried herself to sleep. Then Jedd got home and checked her arm (after cutting off her jammies since Sonna wouldn't let me touch her) and it seemed fine. Jedd went back to work. At 3AM, Sonna called me into her room and said, "I can walk again!!!" Her arm was better. She also said, "Tell my Dad I love him". (Thanks to Uncle Mike who was also a supportive consult during this traumatic event.)
This week also included calling Mom names. Mean Mom was what they called me anytime I said something they didn't like. Time Outs were not at all effective and of course, it happened only when Jedd was gone at work. At supper on Wednesday night, I gave a little speech something like this: "I am your mom and I love you very much and I work hard to take very good care of you and when you call me a name it is rude and disrespectful and it hurts my feelings" (insert tears in my eyes). So I asked the girls what they thought would be an appropriate consequence for calling me Mean Mom. In an effort convey the seriousness of the situation, Jedd suggested throwing away their scooters if they should say it again. He was not at all expecting the girls to agree to such a suggestion. But Mara's eyes grew wide and she said, "OK". Uh, oh. At 2 1/2 Sonna is lacking in self control or thinking before she speaks. At 4 1/2, we have been working with Mara to think before she speaks for several months now. We gave the girls several reminders that their scooters would go to Salvation Army for another little kid to have if they said Mean Mom, knowing full well that one of them would slip. We knew this wasn't the right consequence but we needed to follow through. As predicted, Sonna said Mean Mom the next morning and we took her scooter to the Salvation Army. It was a sad day for Sonna. (Just after Sonna said Mean Mom and was reminded of the consequence, her loving big sister said, "Sonna, I will share my scooter with you if you want").
a good question and a good answer - Ivar asked me just now, "Mom, why do we have finger nails?" And I tried to answer about how it is helpful to have a little hard thing to get batteries out ...