That’s What Imaginary Friends Are For
In the past couple months, Madelyn has made a bevy of new friends. She would always talk about them in the car, at home, in the cart at Trader Joe’s. She was making lots of friends at preschool, but these names were not part of her class. Golby and Guyee were part of her original crew, and lately, Hank has started hanging out, too. We quickly realized that these friends she passionately spoke about are her fictional, made-up, dare I say, imaginary friends. Let me tell you, there is nothing more entertaining than hearing about this world my toddler completely controls and creates.
Some people might be freaked out about imaginary friends, but I think it’s terrific. I love that she is expressing her imagination, piecing together parts from her real world to make up her own, and exploring her verbal communication which only seems to improve, and drastically! It’s a great glimpse into the way she sees her environment and circumstances. If this creates independent thoughts and ideas, then I’m all for it! I just follow her lead and acknowledge her fwiends, and Bryan and I giggle while her eyes are closed with detailed and dramatic storytelling.
Madelyn dressed up as a fairy princess and invited her imaginary friends to dance at the ball with her just after this picture.
So let’s introduce her friends, shall we? Madelyn talks about them here, but this is just one of many instances. I’ve gathered a lot of details about these characters over the months.
The first one to show up was Golby. Originally, it was Colby, but she has now lost her C and her name begins with a G. Golby has a pet horse, who’s white, named Amigo. She rides her everywhere. Including to work. Which is at the Apple store. Golby is always at work. Girlfriend NEVER gets any breaks, it seems, and I think she ought to complain to HR about some PTO. We might be in the middle of brushing teeth at bedtime, and Madelyn will blurt out of the blue, “Golby at work!”
Guyee is Golby’s partner in crime. Pronounced GUY-EE, this was the name Madelyn used to call herself for “Maddie.” Before she mastered the “M” sound, she substituted with “G” which is really random and actually makes no phonemic sense, but you know, we roll with things around here. So Maddie used to introduce herself as “Guy-ee” and we used to have to explain to people that she means “Maddie” and then they’d look at us like we must be speaking in tongues. This was, of course, way back when Madelyn was having speech therapy and more closely resembled Nell of the Forest than my genetic offspring.
Anyway, Guyee also works at the Apple store. Hmmm. Wonder if she is her father’s daughter.
Guyee gets a little more time off than Golby, apparently, as Guyee makes pretty regular appearances. Sometimes Madelyn announces her presence, and other times I just gather that Guyee is with us. They seem to have a pretty close relationship, like sisters, almost, as they have regular conversations that sometimes escalate into conflict and resolution. Thank goodness. I often hear them arguing in the back of my car while I’m driving. The other week, my mom was driving after a visit to Trader Joe’s, and Madelyn and Guyee were working out a tiff over the stickers. Allegedly, Maddie had the stickers, Guyee wanted them and took them, and they went back and forth over who got the stickers until finally Madelyn and Guyee made up and they said I love you back and forth to each other.
You see, Madelyn does the voices for her friends as well. She changes patter and inflection depending on who she’s playing. She asks questions and answers them. Sometimes we’ll be walking Princeton, and Madelyn will ask me to hold the leash. Because she’s really a good walker, I let her and the following will take place:
Madelyn: You want to hold the leash, Guyee?
Madelyn as Guyee: Yeah! Ok!
Madelyn: Ok here you go!
Madelyn as Guyee: Ok! Dank you!
Madelyn: Ok! Welcome!
Madelyn as Guyee: OK OK!
Madelyn: OK OK!
This goes on and on.
Lately, a newcomer has made an appearance. Hank. I’m a little nervous about Hank, to tell you the truth. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him and um, clearly, I can’t throw him.
Madelyn has told me that Guyee and Golby are kids. Hank, on the other hand, is a grown up. Why is a grown up hanging out with kids? And he has a beard and a mustache. And he drives a white van. She also says he’s not nice. If he starts offering candy, I’m telling her to ditch Hank. My gut tells me he’s bad news, but how do you break up with an imaginary friend? Hank, though, does not work at the Apple store. He works at Trader Joe’s. I asked her how they met: of course, a restaurant. Of course.
I sat down and asked Madelyn what her friends look like, because, you know, I want to put a face with the name. She doesn’t seem to blink an eye about my not being able to see her friends, so she just rolled with it.
Madelyn says, “Golby has pink hair and gween eyebrows and wears a bwoo dress. WITH BUTTONS, Mommy! And she has purpur lips and a bow in her hair. And the bow is pink.”
Madelyn says, “Guyee has a blue dress with pink polka dots. She has pink hair with pink eyelashes and blue eyes. She wears a bow. NO TWO bows. They are pink. And shoes. They’re bwoo.”
Madelyn says, “Hank has purple hair with bwoo eyebrows. He also has a beard and a muss-ash. It’s gween. He wears a bwoo shirt with buttons. They’re orange. And purpur pants. He’s not a kid, he’s a grown up.”
Sometimes, the whole thing gets a little too Haley Joel Osment for me and I think she’s seeing spooky things. We were looking at family photos the other night and asked Madelyn to name all the people in the picture. From right to left, she pointed: “Mommy, Bubbie, Gigi, Mimi, Gamma, Maddie, Guyee, Golby, Hank, Auntie Ass-in.” Ummmmmmmm.
Dear Ryan Murphy. I have your next American Horror Story plotline for you: IMAGINARY FRIENDS. You’re welcome.
People say that these friends could be temporary or they could hang around for a few years. To be honest, I’ve really enjoyed Guyee and Golby’s company (Hank, not so much. He’s a creeper) and hey, they’re cheap to entertain and require no room and board, so it’s not even like they’re mooching. I think I’ll be sad when her friends leave Madelyn and move on to some other little girl’s imagination.
For now, I’m happy to make room for them on the couch as Madelyn watches Frozen with them, does coloring pages with them, and even eats dinner with them. Good friends are hard to find. Guyee and Golby are lucky to have Maddie.
Matzah Mayhem at Our First New & Improved Passover
Since buying a house in the past year, we’ve shared a solid round of firsts. And last week was no different: we hosted our first formal dinner party for Passover. It was important to us that our house accommodate the ability to entertain: a large, spacious kitchen, accessible living space for after-dinner socializing, and of course, a dining room that would be home to an 8 to 10 seat table. This house really does allow for all that, but the only thing missing was the dining room table!
Madelyn came shopping with us everywhere as we shopped for, as she calls it, “the diamond room table” (if only it was a room full of diamonds!) and it was no small feat. Our first task was to make sure the table was the right size, as the room is not very long, but we also have an existing China hutch which I was not willing to part with, so the table had to match. Trying to match espresso-colored woods requires many cups of espresso. SO HARD. But we found it and then bought chairs and the whole thing was stressful, but ended with full bellies, so I suppose it was more than worth the aggravation of furniture shopping.
So with the table delivered a week before Passover and the chairs arranged the night before our Seder, we were ready to have our parents, Madelyn’s aunt and uncle, and her great grandmothers over for dinner! We didn’t host a Seder last year in our condo because we were in the middle of organizing and packing, so we joked: “Next year in
Jerusalemour new house!” At the time, we didn’t even know where our new house would be and here we are, 8 months into living in it, and one Passover down. So, because we hadn’t hosted a Seder in about two years, I’d forgotten how much work it is! But it was worth it. Thankfully, Bryan and I make a good team and we have a pretty solid routine down, which almost always includes his many trips to the grocery store for forgotten items. He’s so accommodating that way.Ready for our guests to arrive!
Everything’s ready. Just waiting for the empty bellies to fill up.
Madelyn could even get in on the action too. The last Passover Seder she attended, she was kind of worthless in the kitchen and couldn’t even eat solids yet. The Passover before that, she enjoyed whatever goods she got in the womb. So this was really her first participating Passover experience, and it didn’t hurt that in preschool, she’d learned all the songs and symbols and was totally into it. Be still, my Jewish mother heart.
Madelyn was my Charoset sous chef, but she didn’t like the noise of the food processor as it went to work on the apples and walnuts.
So instead, Madelyn helped pour [lots of] cinnamon and stirred the combo. She did a great job and loved helping!
It was so nice to cook for family and spend the evening together. The Seder was truly all for Madelyn who sang her songs very proudly for a very captive and adoring audience. We read from a 30-minute Hagaddah, but directed much of the spiel toward Madelyn and she really soaked it in. I think she’s a little scholar like her father, which delights him since Passover is his favorite holiday.
Rabbi Madelyn leads the Seder.
After Madelyn, my other baby.
All 3 of us seem to be enjoying the soup! Proud Jewish mother moment!
After dinner, Madelyn went on a hunt for the afikomen, the hidden matzah. It was her first time playing this game, and it was fun to see how excited she was from her family cheering her on. With no competition, she successfully found it, received a Minnie Mouse-tastic prize, and spent the rest of the evening singing and dancing to her Grandpa’s guitar as we gathered for music time. It’s not a true holiday celebration without a song session led by my rockstar, musical prodigy father-in-law.
We had a great time and even though I’m not a deeply religious person, I do love the holidays and sharing them with our family. What’s even more amazing is celebrating them through Madelyn’s eyes. I think that’s really what it’s all about!
Is the matzah hiding by Bubbie and Gigi??
Is the hidden matzah in the drawer??
IT IS!
One proud matzah finder.
You know you’re a happy person when you have a dance off with your matzah and your Minnie.
And this is the start of a series called: Making Old Ladies Melt Into Puddles
Madelyn force feeds matzah to her 92-year-old great grandmother.
The Money Shot. Cue the “Awwww”s.
Madelyn poses with her Uncle Michael. They love to be silly together.
All the ladies of the group snuggled under the Hello Kitty blanket, per Madelyn’s orders.
The dessert spread of fruit and macaroons. Madelyn was a happy eater!
End-of-the-night attempt to get a family shot, Madelyn’s crazy hair and all.
Moo-terial Girl
Back in August, Bryan traveled to Switzerland for work, leaving Madelyn and me to enjoy some major girl time for a week. Most of his trip was focused on work, but he had one full day to explore Lucerne and took in the mountaintop views to see the gorgeous lake with a soundtrack of famous cowbells surrounding him. The cows peppered the hills and their bells rang out with trademark forte. He also lived like the locals and had a night out during their shopping night. Apparently, one night a week, the town stays open later and locals can get their shopping done after work. I haven’t decided if I like or dislike this Swiss concept. I’m very neutral about it.
Ba-dum cha!
Bryan sends me pictures of beautiful Switzerland at dusk while I eat cereal for dinner and sneeze through Santa Ana winds back home.
Anyway, during his big night out, he bought some chocolates for me (good man) and some souvenirs for his daughter. To commemorate the signature aspects of Switzerland, he brought back a cute miniature cowbell and a soft plush cow with a bandana around its neck with the Swiss flag design.
These were really the first presents Bryan had ever bought for his daughter all on his own, and I love that he picked it out in the land of milk and milk.
The Loot
When he brought home the souvenirs, Madelyn loved up on the cow right away. She had just turned two, and we asked her what she wanted to name the cow: Moo. Very original and clever.
Moo went to sleep with her that very night and even trumped Baby for the clutches of her toddler hands. On excursions to the market or long rides in the car, Minnie became old rat, and it was all about Moo. Her small play purse that usually holds bracelets and crayons and other random do-dads was suddenly being opened as wide as possible for Moo to fit inside, but we had to explain that Moo was too big. So with the purse dangling on one arm and Moo hugged up against the other, Madelyn meandered throughout her days, cuddling with her bovine beauty.
For three solid weeks, Moo was THE toy to enjoy. I don’t know if it was because Moo was so spectacular or if it was because Moo was just new, but Madelyn was quite attached.
At the end of September, we were packing to go on a family trip to San Francisco. Bryan had business up there and Madelyn and I tagged along to see some friends and the sights. I was putting together her Keep Madelyn Happy bag and tossed in some books, coloring materials, a baby doll, and other necessities, and Madelyn brought me Moo. It was imperative that cow come with us and I didn’t even blink about it.
So Moo enjoyed its second airplane flight in just one month, this one significantly shorter. Moo slept in the crib at the hotel, joined us on BART, ate sundaes at Ghiradelli, rode on a cable car, and accompanied our walks through Union Square, the Embarcadero, and even afternoon tea at Neiman Marcus. Moo got to do more than most kids do in their childhood, so this was one privileged plush.
After four days in the city by the bay, we were scheduled to return back home. The morning of our flight, we laid out all of our clothes and accessories we’d need for our flight and packed up the rest, all while getting dressed and ready. Madelyn was a wild child that morning, and continued to move around the piles we’d strategically placed throughout the room. Time was ticking and we had to make our flight, so after we’d zipped up bags, the hotel room door closed behind us.
On our way to the airport, after our cab driver got pulled over and earned himself a ticket with us in the back seat (um, awkward, by the way), I asked Bryan, “Moo is in the carry on, right?” He hadn’t seen Moo. I asked Madelyn if she was holding Moo. She was not. I told Bryan I could not remember actually physically placing Moo in any bag. I knew I had Moo in a pile to bring with us. But my brain was scanning Moo’s whereabouts and it was coming up blank.
When we arrived at the airport, I looked as best I could in the bags, and there was no sign of Moo.
My heart sank and I knew that Moo was probably back in the hotel room. I called them right away, as any parent would when trying to locate a missing best friend, and they said they’d look and get back to me. My only hope was that Moo was in the nooks and crannies of the luggage and we’d find it when we unpacked at home.
No such luck. Moo was never in any of our bags, and we turned them inside out.
In the days that followed, Bryan and I both spent time on the phone with several different employees of the hotel: our housekeeper, head of housekeeping, the lost and found director, even the general manager of the entire property. They were all looking for Moo but Moo was not mooing back.
I know whole heartedly that Moo was left in the room. I’m not accusing anyone of taking the kid’s toy, but it’s possible it got lost in the laundry. Their outsourced linens agency said they looked, and Moo hadn’t surfaced in their loads.
Madelyn asked for Moo often, but we just sighed and told her Moo stayed in San Francisco. She seemed satisfied enough with the answer, but it still made us sad.
As silly as it sounds, I cried over Moo. I love how special Moo was — it came from another country that Madelyn’s daddy visited while traveling for work. It was such a daddy/daughter experience they both concurrently had together and independently. Moo was cute, too! The cream-colored cow had light brown spots and was no cheapy-looking stuffed animal. I loved its red bandana with the Swiss crosses. It was finely made. Moo looked proud to be a cow.
Months passed. I got a call from the hotel about four months later while walking through Costco. The director of housekeeping with a very heavy accent explained to me that they’d found a soft cow in their lost and found. She tried to describe it to me, but I couldn’t understand much. I asked her to text me a picture and right there, between the package of 42 AA batteries and the trash bags, my heart pounded as I waited for the text that could show Moo’s face. Would Moo be dirty and damaged? Would the bandana still be attached to its neck? Would Moo have stuffing popping out, exhausted from its mystery journey?
My phone dinged and it was a picture of a cow, yes. But a cow that was not stuffed and looked like a mini blanket. It was not Moo at all, but some other child’s missing loved thing. I hope that other child is hangin’ in.
This event inspired me to look for Moo myself. If it meant purchasing another Moo online, I would. But the store that Bryan had bought it from did not have an online shopping cart so I could not even see their inventory. I emailed them and described Moo, asking if they could send a new one and take an order over email. I never heard back. They probably trashed that crazy American lady’s email as soon as it came through their inbox. I’m sure they thought I had mad cow disease, myself.
I gave up on Moo again and the search for Friedman’s Most Wanted cow went on the back burner.
In February, Bryan found out he’d have to do some more business travel in Switzerland.
It’s no surprise that the first thing I thought of was Moo 2.
Bryan only had four nights in Switzerland and he checked in every day with me to tell me the status of Moo 2.
“I had to work late today, so I won’t get into town to go shopping until Wednesday.”
“Not sure if I will have time later this evening. Looks like tomorrow is my only night.”
“I hope they still have the same selection of stuffed animals! It was hard to find Moo the first time.”
I was teaching during the day while Madelyn was with my mom and I got a text while I was at work.
There was much rejoicing via text with Bryan and the grandmas
I actually breathed a sigh of relief.
She knew that Daddy was in Switzerland and we told her that he was getting her a new Moo. Whenever she’d hear anyone mention Daddy or Switzerland, she’d proudly share: “Daddy get new Moo!” I don’t even know if she knew what this meant as it had been a while since she’d even mentioned her old cow, but she seemed excited anyway.
Bryan came home two days later and the reunion with Moo 2 took place when she woke up the next morning. Bryan told her he had a surprise for her and we turned her around so we could place Moo in front of her and then she opened her eyes and walked toward the cow.
It was like reuniting with an old friend: excited, but unpracticed; giddy, but reserved.
She spent the rest of the morning hugging Moo 2 and carrying her old-new pal around. Moo 2 has since been a staple in her crib, cuddling her to sleep along with Hello Kitty, Minnie, Doggie, Sheep, Bunny and Lovey.
Even Princeton got in on the Moo Fest
In fact, Moo 2 may also be to blame for some late night carousing in her room, as she sings and chats with all of her stuffed friends. But I don’t mind. It’s okay for her to party even though the cow came home.
Dear Sweet Madelyn,
I felt so sad when your 1st Moo was lost—I think I was more sad than YOU.
How lucky you are that Daddy was able to find you a new Moo to love & hug.
The adventures of Moo, the Cow & Moo 2 will always be a story to remember when we reminisce about when you were a little toddler.
A similar story happened with your Mommy when we went on a trip to England. I didn’t remember packing her blanket when we left our hotel about 2 hours earlier. In a panic, I made Poppa stop on the highway and I jumped out of the car and ran to the trunk so I could check your Mommy’s suitcase as she was almost in tears. Thankfully, the yellow blanket was safely packed away in her suitcase and Poppa didn’t have to drive 2 hours back to the hotel. I’ll never forget that scary incident.
Love you so much,
Mimi
The Urination Situation
When I picked Madelyn up from preschool almost 2 weeks ago, her teacher informed me that she had disappeared into the bathroom and was found with her pants at her ankles, her diaper on the floor, and her tushie on the miniature potty. In the potty: you guessed it. She had never actually taken it upon herself to go to the bathroom all on her own without any prompting. For the past handful of months, we’ve incorporated the potty into her nighttime routine and she successfully goes, but that’s been with supervision and assistance. So color us surprised to learn that she did it all on her own at school — an environment that had proven to cause some anxiety and trepidation.
I wasn’t too excited about it; being housebound for three days and swimming in pee didn’t sound like a fun way to spend President’s Day weekend. I was one ankle bracelet away from house arrest and I’m not Martha Stewart enough to see the silver lining in the whole thing. Except the whole no-more-diapers thing, I guess.
So after school on Friday, we made a trip to Target and picked out some undies for Madelyn. She was very excited to choose the coveted undies because she’d heard all about them in one of her favorite books. It’s a very no-nonsense board book with mostly illustrations about a baby who’s learning how to go on the potty and at the end, he/she (can’t tell what sex the kid is) does it and the parents and dog and cat run in the room to see (why were they not in there with him/her all along?) and the last page of the book says UNDIES! and has a bunch of underwear with different designs raining from the sky. It’s obviously Madelyn’s favorite part of the book. It’s kind of like the scene from American Beauty when Mena Suvari (who?) drenches herself in deep red roses. But in this case, it’s panties. Sorry I’m not sorry for giving away the ending of the Potty book.
Decisions, decisions. These are the most important decisions.
Winner winner chicken dinner!
On Saturday and Sunday, Bryan was obviously home from work, so we definitely tag teamed on Madelyn potty duty. She pretty much lounged in just undies and at first, we prompted her and reminded her to go to the bathroom every 30 minutes. There are certain iPhone alarm sounds I never want to hear again. I also made her a sticker chart and every time she had a successful potty production, she got to pick a princess sticker and place it on her chart. I simply wrote numbers in order on a paper and every fourth number, I drew a star. Each starred number earned her an M&M so she had small goals to look forward to throughout the process. She loved putting stickers on each number and definitely didn’t protest the M&M, but she was just as happy to hear her own tinkle sounds in the potty.
She only had a few accidents and I wasn’t swimming in pee like I’d anticipated. Madelyn: 18274 Mama Drama: 0. Madelyn was a champ most of the time. She would start a drip-drop in her undies, feel it, and then alert us that she had to go, and she’d finish on the potty! I think even Charlie Sheen would call that winning (is that still trending or am I so two years ago?).
Reading The Potty Book on the potty. It’s all so very meta.
Remember pop quizzes in school? Maybe it’s the teacher in me, but I gave Madelyn Dry Checks randomly throughout the day and would reward her for being dry. That way, she not only associated making sissy and doody in the potty, but NOT making sissy or doody in her undies (and yes, “sissy” and “doody” are our words. I enjoy using them.).
Madelyn made such great progress on Saturday and Sunday that I got super cocky about Monday when I’d be alone with Madelyn at home when Bryan had to go to work. Well, cockiness gets you nowhere! Madelyn had three HUGE accidents — Hurricane Sissy stormed and I hadn’t battened down the hatches. I sent Bryan several pathetic/frustrated texts and was about to Google a potty training consultant. These setbacks really made me sad, but that’s what the roller coaster of potty training is all about because after those accidents, she never once had another one. She alerted me any time she had to do anything as little as a tinkle and worked those undies like a rockstar (although, most rockstars probably don’t even wear undies. Is Miley considered a rockstar? I bet she doesn’t wear any.).
Tuesday, we had plans to meet friends in Orange County. I was SO so so so nervous to leave the house for the first time AND that first time require a two-hour drive. Twice. I packed 14 pairs of undies and 5 pairs of clean pants. I may as well be a Boy Scout because I was more than prepared. I even lined her carseat with Princeton’s piddle pads and packed two portable potties so that Madelyn could easily go in the car if I had to pull over.
When we arrived in Newport, I was expecting the Pacific Ocean to have filled her carseat.
Instead: Dry. As. A. Bone. I’m not even kidding. I kissed her so hard, her face turned raw.
She went once during our lunch, her first public restroom. And despite MY anxiety about it — hi, germs — she performed on the potty and didn’t give one thought to the loud flush. She is lucky, however, that I did not cut off her hand after touching every. little. thing. Lady receptacles need to be placed NOT at toddler height, dear Public Restroom Designers of the World. waaaaaaaaaahhhhh
So after we washed her hands three times (classic OCD comfort number) and disinfected with antibac, we resumed our afternoon with friends with no further accidents. I didn’t change her undies once the entire day. Take that, 14.
I made her go before we started our drive home, but she was too distracted by the sights of the parking lot to produce. While sitting in my flat trunk, she narrated every passerby: “That lady is wearing white.” “That man is holding a bag.” “That car is gween.” “That car is bwue.” Who needs a newspaper when you have Fashion Island?
This borders on humiliating and humorous. As usual, I vote for humorous.
At almost two weeks later, I’d say Madelyn has definitely gotten the hang of the potty. I am so, so proud of her and really amazed how easily it came to her. I think we waited the right amount of time. The only thing I did wrong?
Two-and-a-half weeks ago, I ordered a brand new box of diapers. So 120-ish fresh diapers later, I have a potty trained toddler. Figures.
She’s Just Two Emotional
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but toddler words filled with rage and angry beady eyes and snot stains on the cheeks with wild mane-hair and blood-boiled skin freakin’ HURT me.
I know, I know: Madelyn is two-and-an-almost-half and is still learning to process her feelings. I know all this. But it doesn’t make the hard days any easier. Or give me less of a reason to exile myself to the Four Seasons and order room service and a masseuse. I really can’t complain, as Madelyn has always been so super easy, so I realize I can’t win ’em all. She’s going through her own self discovery, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing something wrong or if I could handle situations differently.
Top 5 Phrases Madelyn Utters These Days:
1. “I don’t waaaaaaaaaant to!”
2. “Go A-WAAAAY!”
3. “No touch! No touch!”
4. “No, IIIIIIII do it!”
5. “Where’s Daddy?????????? WHERE’S %$*&@!# DADDY?????????”
So yeah, thanks a lot, speech therapy.
She seriously goes from 0 to 100 in point two seconds, which seems a lot faster than what sports car commercials seem to claim. This is seriously something that happens 32 times a day when Madelyn wants to watch the toddler cult classic, Frozen:
Madelyn: Fo-zen.
Mommy: OK, Madelyn. How do you ask nicely?
Madelyn: Fo-zeeeeeeen. (four seconds later.) FOOOOO-ZEEEEEN. (two seconds later with a punch to my bicep for added effect) FOOOOOOOOOOOOO-ZEEEEEEEEN (burst into tears! Because! No! Patience!)
Cue more tears, lots of wailing, and a face that resembles an angry Kool Aid mascot.
Then, eventually like… hmmm… after 35 minutes of biting sobs that make her lose her breath, I’ll get:
“Mommmm-mmm-mmm-mmmy”
Mommy: Yes, Madelyn?
Madelyn: Can I watch Frozen please?
Mommy: Yes, of course! Thank you for asking nicely!
THEN, as sweet as this transition is, she’ll become unreasonably upset that a song is over or the pillow fell on her elbow or she dropped her baby doll. And it all starts over. The tears. The gasps. The snot. It’s just so much fun.
So on days like today, when I came home from a day of work and experienced three hours of incessant tantrums before we finally put her to bed, I ask myself first, “Why don’t I get to work 24 hour days? Does school HAVE to end? Aren’t teachers supposed to sleep at school in the classroom?” and second, “When can we go back to a time when Madelyn was happy-go-lucky instead of giving drama to her mama?”
I’ve been lucky to be a stay-at-home mom with a very light and flexible work schedule. I appreciate the days I get to go to work because, even as a teacher, I still get to interact and socialize with adults and stimulate some intellect. While working is definitely for me, it is also for our household. With our new house and new expenses, the teacher money — while it isn’t anything grand — helps with the extras, so my time away from the house is, in effect, for Madelyn. So when I come home from a day of work and then encounter the mood and ‘tude as of late, I feel frustrated and dejected. I know I need to be handling this better for myself because Madelyn just needs to grow and develop through this stage. So really, it’s about me learning to not take her antics personally.
While we get through this stage, I’d like to be a more patient mom and grow some thicker skin. I don’t think it’s ever OK to be her punching bag because I want to model for her that I respect myself and, therefore, so should she, but I also can’t let her actions and words make me feel sad or unloved.
When Madelyn finally asked nicely to watch Frozen, and I happily put it on for her, she ended up setting into the sofa right next to me and rested her hand on my leg, tapping her fingers on my jeans to the beat of the music.
I whispered, “I love you, Madelyn” and welcomed her back.