Transitioning Your Child? Just Do It!

In an act of desperation, I posted this message on a private Facebook group page seeking advice from my bestest mommy girlfriends (my inspiration for all that is right in motherhood).

March 18: I need advice!! I've been lying down with my boys in their bed at night since a couple of weeks before our move. We slept in the same bed for two weeks in our hotel. And I'm lying in their bed now in our new home. We're starting week 3 here and I'm still lying down with them at night. It's agonizing now! Any time I try to get away before they fall asleep, they scream "no!" like I'm leaving them with a pack of wolves. I need to stop this madness, but I'm not sure the best way. What would you ladies do? Would you just stop it now, tonight, say good night and let them scream until they fall asleep? Or ease into it by sitting in a chair in their room and each day moving farther and farther from their bed. Advice pleeeeeeease!

Can you feel my fear here?  I just knew that if I just kissed them goodnight after their bedtime stories, they’d throw a huge fit that I wasn’t sure I was mentally ready for. I also knew that they’d wake in the middle of the night screaming for me to lay with them and nobody would get any sleep for days and days.  With the stress of the move and organizing everything in my life, I didn’t think I could take this big change.  But I also knew I couldn’t let this continue.  I was losing all of my “me” time by laying down with them.  I wouldn’t leave their room until about 9:00 p.m. and by then I was ready to just jump into my own bed.  But wasn’t that easier than having to hear them cry for an hour?  I’ll admit it, I was looking for easy! 

I had read about the Sleep Lady and her method gentle sleep training.  You ease into it.  You start out by sitting in a chair next to their bed and you can comfort them and reassure them until they fall asleep.  Then a few nights later, or the next night, you move your chair farther from the bed.  Eventually, you’ll be chilling in the hallway instead of their room.  I tried this for a few nights and though I'm sure it works brilliantly for some moms, I thought to myself that I’d never break free from the chair-so, why not just do this in one fell swoop?

COLD TURKEY – like a few of my friends suggested.

And so I woke that next morning knowing tonight I will end this bedtime madness.  I was nervous all day and I had my armor on-the I know I’m going to fight a battle until the wee hours of morning and not get any sleep tonight game play in my mind.  I coached my boys all day long, “mommy isn’t sleeping with you tonight. I’m going to tell you three stories and then I’m going to kiss you and say good night and I love you, then I’m going to go to sleep in my room.”  I even had Luke repeat that back to me mid-day.  “You’re going to tell us three stories then go sleep in your room. Why?”  Finally, it was time.  It was 7:30 p.m. and we had just finished our third story.  Game on!  “Okay, boys. I love you so much and I hope you have sweet dreams. I’m going to go sleep in my room now.” I kissed them both.  Zealand squirmed and suggested, “no mama, lay here.”  Here we go.  “No Z, mama is going to her room.  I’ll check on you when you fall asleep.” And I headed to the door.  “Good night my loves,” I said. In position, ready for the next move. “Good night mommy,” Luke said as he pulled his doggie close to his chest.  And I shut the door behind me.  I stood there for a few minutes waiting for the screaming and the begging.  All I got was an indulgent quiet.

You won’t believe what happened next…

Absolutely nothing!  They slept like angels through the night in what may have been the most peaceful stretch of sleep I’d gotten in years.  It’s been about a month now, and aside from the occasional “will you please lay with us until we fall asleep” to which I answer “mommy has to sleep in her room, but I will check on you in a little bit”…and of course, the “I need a sip of water” or “one more kiss please”…there hasn’t been any more bedtime battles.

I could’ve let fear override many of my decisions as a mother and I’d still be sleeping with  my boys and not having any time to write or watch Dance Moms Miami. The lesson I learned is so beautiful. 

Whether you’re about to get rid of the bottle, change up your bedtime routine, or attempt some other change that seems impossible or scary – JUST DO IT.  Maybe it will be a little challenging, but it probably won’t be as bad as you’re thinking.  Plus, the sooner the better.  And you know you’ll get through it.  As we all know, kids are resilient. They can handle change.  You just have to take the lead and show them who is boss.

And remember, YOU are the boss! ;)

Dear Lord

 Every evening, after bath and story time—we have prayer time.  I would pray for our family’s safety, prosperity, my thankfulness to God, and whatever else moved me that day.  Then, it would be Callie’s turn to pray.  It was a consistent trend we tried to weave in to our nightly routine, and it would always be neat to see what Callie would pray for each evening.

     The tricky part was keeping her in her own bed after the prayers were done and the lights went out.  She would sneak out of her room as soon as she heard us get in bed…begging to be able to sleep with us.  When she turned about 2 years-old, she started having nightmares and was fearful of monsters.  So, the new battle of getting her to sleep in her own bed begun, and we did everything from bribing with toys, to punishment, to even the dreaded putting her back in her own bed kicking and screaming (ten times).  It was a fight, but we kept at it and started to see some improvement.

     One particular night I was praising Callie on how well she’d done.  For an entire week, she’d slept soundly in her bed, with few middle of the night stirrings.  We read our book of the night, “The Elephants Child” and then started our prayers for the evening.

  “Dear Lord, I thank you for our many blessings you’ve given us…” I began as Callie squeezed her eyes shut and listened intently.  I finished with, “And I thank you for us all sleeping soundly and peacefully in our own beds, Amen.”    

     Then it was her turn, which was the part we both anticipated the most.

    “Dear Lord.  I thank you for my baby brother.  And I thank you for me sleeping in my mommy’s and daddy’s bed tonight.  Amen.”

*Trina 

Moms Raising Boys and Their Endless Energy...The Boys; Not So Much The Moms

One of the things I dreamt about most when I dreamed of having children was reading to them in bed, all snuggled beneath the covers, with their heads resting on me. 

   They are 2 ½ and 1 ½ and I’m still waiting for this particular dream of mine to unfold.  You see, I have two boys.  I started reading to each of them when they were in my belly.  Now, the readings have become a part of our bedtime ritual.  It was getting pretty exciting when Luke started to learn words and we’d slowly browse through a book – I’d point to a picture and he’d holler out the matching word.  As Luke learned the alphabet, we’d search the pages for letters he recognized.  That was the extent of our readings.  I knew that any day now, with excitement, he’d want to start reading the stories along with me. 

   This summer, we got him a sturdy, Cars toddler bed (within the first hour the Cars sticker was ripped off).  That night, I climbed into his red bed adorned with Toy Story sheets and he hopped in right next to me.  This is it, I thought, anticipating the big moment.  I pulled the sheets up over us, opened the book and began to read the first page of Goldilocks and the Three Bears.  Little brother Zealand—hearing me reading, decided to climb up, too.  How exciting!  He crawled over me, his knees poking my shin; toenails scraping over my thigh.  But he found a spot, and there we were.  I pulled the sheet up over us and reread the first page so Zealand wouldn’t miss a thing. 

   On page three, the hungry little blonde comes across the porridge.  Luke had turned his body 90 degrees with his feet propped on his bedside table.  He was revving his engine apparently, ‘brrrm brrrrm’ as he announced he was a car and going really, really fast.  Zealand was tugging and bending and shoving the page I was trying to read.  He had a mission to destroy the page, not read it.  I swiftly pulled the book from his grip as if I were a three-year-old on the playground, rightfully grabbing back my toy.  He pulled himself to his feet and began to bounce away.  Then, Luke flipped over in a millisecond and jumped out of bed, his elbow flailing into my chest, his other hand smashing my stomach flat, and snatched the book. 

   “No more book, Mommy!” he announced. 

   I was heartbroken!  My cozy little dream.  Then just frustrated… 

   I yanked the book back and said in my stern mommy voice, “We are going to sit here and read this book, right now, or I am going to leave this room!”  That voice is usually saved for moments when he hits his brother or when Zealand tries to scale the entertainment center.  I quickly realized it would take more than a new toddler bed to sway these boys from their inherent verve. 

   Defeated, I looked at them, opened my arms out to the room, inviting them to run and play, and pulled myself up on the bed.  I made a comfy spot and read the familiar story of a broken chair and a little girl fast asleep.  In the background, I heard car noises—helicopter noises, a basketball bouncing off the wall,  the sound of Zealand climbing up the outside of his crib, the click of the fan being turned on and off, then on again, and their loud, boyish laughter.  

   I remembered some of the many conversations I’d had with my friends who had daughters.  The majority of them will cuddle up for book after book after book.   As I glance up, I wish that at least one of them would want to sit still and read with me…but seeing the joy on their faces as they play with one another into the wee moments before bed, well, I'll be darned if that doesn't delight me! 

Going From Firm to Sweet in a Millisecond - The Emotional Switches in Motherhood

A state characterized by the coexistence of contradictory or incompatible elements; one sign being a rapidly changing mood- from happy to sad to angry for no apparent reason.  Schizophrenia.  If my sons were aware of medical terms-and doctors-this is no doubt what they’d diagnose me as.

At least that’s how I feel many times in our day.

Last night, for example. It’s bedtime.  We had woken up at 5:00 a.m. followed by zero naps.  I wore them out at the playground with a group of 10+ kiddos under the age of 5 for a solid hour at the very minimum. They ate a hearty meal of SpaghettiOs with extra meatballs at dinner; bath; books; brush; the usual. At 7:45 p.m., I kissed their precious foreheads and bid them a good night and sweet dreams.  I closed the door behind me and sat on the couch before realizing I hadn’t poured that glass of wine yet.  A few minutes went by.  Silence.  Ah!  I stood up to pour that satiny red into my glassy best friend.  Ultimate relaxation imminent in just minutes.

“Mommy, I’m thirsty.” I hear my oldest calling from behind his door.  At least, he wasn’t opening it (that means he is aware there are rules).

Thoughts dart in my mind.  Stand firm and say no.  He’ll get the idea and know you are not a pushover.  The other voice says, just give him a cup of water and maybe that’s all he really needs and that will be the end of it tonight.

I give him a cup of water.

“Good night, mommy.” He disappears back into his room like the good little almost-three-year-old that he is. 

Ten minutes later, following a potty break, a sip of water and a clean diaper for my youngest, and a tuck in for both; I find myself standing in between their beds.  “Mommy, sing one more song.” A voice in my head explains that the boys shall get no more songs otherwise I am a pushover and this will happen every night until they’re sixteen.  The other voice says to sing one more song just in hopes that this will be the last call of the night. 

In the firmest, most non-pushover voice I can muster, “Okay, I’ll sing one more song.  But THAT IS IT!  NO MORE GAMES!”

[Enter sweet tender mommy voice]

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy…”  Who in normal society actually does that?  There is rarely an instance that you will be talking so firm to someone and switch into sweet sing-songy mode so rapidly.  This is the schizophrenia I’m talking about.  I mean, can you imagine talking to your boss at work…
[Firmly] Leah, I’m really disappointed in your performance on the analytics report.  You’ve miscalculated the numbers and your writing is quite illegible. [Softly] But have I ever told you how nice your hair smells.  Every time you walk past me in the hallway I just think to myself I am so glad I hired you and that I really like you a lot.”

And this isn’t the only instance.  This happens when we’re having a great time playing and laughing and in his excitement, Luke jumps up and knocks his brother to the floor.  My friendly aura is jolted and I’m forced to work up a tough love lesson I’m not quite fond of.  Or when he climbs on my lap and tells me, “mommy, I love you.”  Delighted, I go in for a kiss and notice he’s chewing.  I ask, “What’s in your mouth?”  He spits out black rubber into my hand.  I quickly scan the room spying my lone flip flop in the corner.  A chunk savagely torn from it.  I’m too relaxed to turn work up the energy to be mad, but I don’t want him to ruin any more of my shoes.  Or when we had a fun outing at the park and we chase eachother to the car, giggling all the while, and then he sneakily jumps into the front of the car while I’m buckling in his brother and refuses to climb into his seat-thus making me chase him from side to side-resulting in an I’m-over-it “you better get in your seat or… (or what-think fast!) or you won’t get that treat when we get home.” What treat?  Now I need to get him a treat if he gets in his seat.  Why am I going to treat him for finally obeying me after a few minutes of craziness?  Ah, the word craziness.  Maybe this isn’t a coincidence. 

Honestly, I’d rather be the sweet and happy mommy 24/7.   But I’m savvy enough to know that doesn’t work out too well for the kiddos in the long run.  I guess for me, who has always been pretty agreeable and the last person to ever start a fight, it’s hard to be that assertive and firm person I know I need to be. 

Or maybe I just over think it.

Bedtime Battles Continued

I’m sure there will be a time when I look back and appreciate the endearing moments of tortured screaming at bedtime.  Maybe when they’re thirteen and they don’t want anything to do with me.  Or when they’re sixteen and sleeping until noon (or maybe it’s the other way around and I don’t know it yet because my boys are 19 months and 33 months-or do I just say almost 3?).

Today, however, it’s the greatest thing in this insane world of motherhood that can get my anxiety to a level I’ve never felt.   The cries, screaming, pleading and bargaining.

During this madness, I’ve got the caring and firm mommy conflicting within me.

The caring and sensitive side of me wants to jump at every cry out and rush to their aide.

“I need my mommy!”  I’m there in a second!

“I have to go potty!”  We were so successful in potty training, how could I betray his trust of the system.

“I need more water!”  It’s summer.  He could be thirsty.  What if he’s dehydrated…I MUST check on him.

“Mommy!  Don’t. Do. This. To. Meeeeee!”  My heart is shattering.  I’m clearly setting him up for emotional disaster. 

And I return to his aide once again.

But then…the curtain falls, the precipitous silence envelopes crowd, the spotlight shining on the other half of me; exhausted, confused, frustrated.

Duped. 

I know I’m being manipulated and I question my reasoning in my coddling moves.   How can it be wrong when it seems so natural and motherly?  I need to be firm.

Yet each afternoon and each night for as long as I can remember, it’s a battle.  My husband, my mother, my best friends all think I should handle it in a different way.  I’ve always been labeled as too sensitive.  Being a firm and consistent mother has no room for the overly sensitive.  And now I feel outplayed.  I need to be stern.  I need to be more consistent. 

I know this is a phase or at least I’m pretty sure they won’t be crying and screaming like this when they’re home visiting us from college.  It’s got to end.  I just hope I can figure it out and do the right* thing along the way.  In the meantime, I’ll just battle my inner Jekyll & Hyde…which is appropriate since it’s my favorite Broadway musical. 

*If you know the right thing, please leave a comment or post on our Facebook page!  Luke, Zealand, (aka...my two little stinkers) if you’re reading this…I’m onto your games and I WILL win this challenge! 


*Leah