Try Again

This past week my mind has been elsewhere and my Nanny role has fallen to the floor. I slipped on it and back into my instinctive, nurtured, autopilot ways. Patience-zero. Irritability-10. And with no hormonal excuse.
In a parenting class I took years ago the instructor challenged us to go home and make the faces we make to our kids in the mirror, so we could see what they saw. The range of expression from disappointment to you better run. I have to say I didn't do it, the thought of it was visualization enough. Did my intimidating grimaces produce different, more desirable behaviors? Absolutely not otherwise I wouldn't be blogging. We know that being mean, constantly punishing rather than disciplining and being out of control just doesn't work-for anyone involved.
This morning I am resolved to find that peaceful Mary Poppins facade and fly with it. The bottom line is I love myself infinitely more when I don't treat my kids like I do the dog. When I respectfully listen to their complaints and triumphs without rushing them or saying, "how about later". When I bite my tongue as they walk out the door a fashion disaster.( Boys really don't care. In fact they would just as well sleep in, wake up in and wear the same shirt and pants all week long. Awesome.) When I resist the temptation to nag them to redo the toilet but instead lovingly instruct them how to do a superior job and make it shine.
I'm telling you with my Nanny hat, I can do anything. Strange really but if it works why not? I have faith that I will evolve into a creature that no longer has to rely on make believe to enjoy my most important tasks. I won't always have to pretend to be the hired help nor will it always be appropriate.

Disclaimer: I haven't always despised kids and my coping mechanisms were different in days past. When my older four were little, (5 and under) life was different in every way. We lived in California and had two sets of  grandparents who offered relief on occasion. I was convinced being a mother was all I needed to be fulfilled. I was busy and outnumbered, I couldn't blink. I was proud to have so many kids at the tender age of 25. -Haha-I was definitely unaware of what lay ahead even though the grandmas would say...this is the easiest part. The sleep deprived, unshowered, thoughtless, always cleaning up, buckling four car seats, can't go anywhere without a catastrophe, trekking four into the restroom in the middle of every grocery trip, constantly having some one crawling on while another was suckling on, and the crying was.... "the easiest part"? Whatever, I got this.
They all wanted to be in my company and I could make all the decisions without meeting too much resistance. I found joy in giving them new adventures. I wanted them to be well rounded. We would walk to the library sometimes twice a week, we went to playgroup every Thursday morning religiously, we went on field trips to the zoo, we played at the park a lot. I realized that was how I dealt with the constraints of motherhood, we went places.We got out of the house. It's also the way I contained the witch inside of me. I lost my cool then too but I wouldn't ever yell in public or spank, (that's when I would pinch). Being out kept me accountable with so many witnesses. I had to be on good behavior. I reveled in the disbelief, "Are they all yours?" ,"You're too young to have that many". I probably was too young but I was doing it and well.

 Here's to a new day make it a good one, who knows, it might be your last. Just sayin'.