Cinco de Mayo with Kids

As I write this, many 20 somethings are out drinking it up at various establishments with words like "El" and "Casa" and "Burro" in their names. Not us. The illustrious life of parents with young children, we sit here watching NBC's Thursday night line-up, sipping Skinnygirl Margaritas. 

Earlier today Zoe and I met Christina and boys B & B for lunch at Rubio's - a locally-based fish taco chain. Three kids + lunch-time rush + Mexican food + Mexican Holiday = Insanity. After my third trip to get more napkins/take someone to the potty/get a new fork, Christina and I are desperately trying to piece together a conversation tainted by too many "Where was I?'s". The slurping noise to my left grabs my attention. Waiting for the impending "Mommy, I want mooooore lemonade..." I glance over at my sweet angel from heaven to notice that she has pulled the straw from her drink and is actually sipping the juice out of the bottom of the cup of her side-dish of black beans. 

Shrieking "ZOE! THAT'S Disgusting!" I grab the straw away from her and throw it on the table. Be it the heat, exhaustion, kids or lack of tequila on this 5th day of May, Christina and I break down in laughter. Meanwhile, said Angel picks back up the straw and puts it back in her lemonade. Enlisting more laughter from the adults, Zoe looks at us, smiles and says:

"Yes! I am adorable!"

I had a {parenting} moment

This past weekend Jason had the opportunity to go to/speak at the M3 Summit in Atlanta. The conference was touted as the man's BlogHER, and I can honestly say I was thrilled that he was going to have a slice of the fabulousness it is when you are good friends with your twitterblogger friends. But, it also left me in an interesting spot. Home. Alone. With the 2 kids.

I know a lot of moms that do this weekly or a few times a month. I also have a good friend who's husband is on his fourth deployment to the middle east - and is going to be gone 9 months total. And honestly? I don't know how you all do it. I'm going to make myself feel better and say that you must have more of a routine down or something, because in all fairness, I almost lost my shit this weekend. 

Last week Rock On Mommies posted about disciplining your children, and I am SO right there with her. But my question is WHO are these moms that can tolerate their kid's bad behavior without screaming or time-outs? What are they on that they can calmly ignore the tantrums? And, where do I get some?

Blame on all the recent changes in his life, or being overtired, but Saturday did not start off well for Lucas. Within moments of waking up he was crying about some toy not working. He perked up a bit after breakfast, so I thought I could run into Target and get a few much needed items like toilet paper and milk. Well, we never even made it past the $1 aisle. 

Between Zoe refusing to sit in the cart and Lucas not putting down some Styrofoam sword, I was already on the edge. Then Lucas takes the sword (that I had told him 6 times to put down) and smacks his sister on the back with it. While I did need to get things, I made the parenting decision to leave the store immediately. I picked Zoe up and grabbed Lucas' hand and started to walk out of the store when he flopped on the ground and started kicking like a 2 year old. I was mortified. I grabbed his arm, pulled him up and walked out the door and through the parking lot all while he was screaming at the top of his lungs "OW MOMMY, DON'T HURT ME! YOU'RE GONNA BREAK MY ARM! MOMMY DON'T HURT ME! DON'T BREAK MY ARM!"

On the verge of my own tears, I put both kids in the car, slammed the doors closed and stood there taking deep, "calming" breaths. Repeating to myself "I can do this, they are MY kids, I can do this" I go to get in my car and I look up to see a Mom with two kids staring at me. I then realized that this woman was in the $1 aisle with me moments before, and had actually followed me out of the store. I looked back at her and she looked away, as if she was looking for her car, and it hit me - she was worried for my kid's safety and had followed me to see if she needed to intervene. 

What, a bitch. 

In my opinion, I did the best parenting move I could do. All parenting books tell you to follow through with your threats and remove the child from the situation when they are having a meltdown. I resisted the urge to yell at her "OH DON'T TELL ME YOUR KIDS NEVER HAVE HAD A MELTDOWN AT TARGET!" and I just took another deep breath, drove home and put my kid in the biggest time-out he's ever had. 

But it got me thinking about Theresa's post and the question of when did it become a bad thing to discipline your children? When did any and all parental disciplinary action become synonymous with being abusive?

Lucas and I had a long talk and the rest of the weekend was salvaged. While the milk and toilet paper had to wait until Jason got home on Sunday, I still stand by parenting decision - because it was MY decision.

And I'm the parent, goddammit. 

1st of First

I could tell that Lucas was nervous; he was antsy and a little whiney and fought me on what he was going to wear today. I kept telling myself that I'm not too worried, he makes friends quickly and I know he will adjust. But let's be honest here, I was freaking out.

We've had a lot of change over the past few months, and while it's good change - it's still turn-your-world-upside-down change. We are all adjusting. We are all trying to figure things out and find a new groove. Lucas is 6, and while he may go with the flow, in the past 3 months his mom has gone back to work in an office, we moved from pretty much the only home he's ever known (he was 18 months old when we moved in), his room has changed, his school changed and he was leaving the safety and comfort of Kindergarten to move into the big, scary world of first grade and elementary school. 

I do love the new school he's going to; it's a big school, but it has a fabulous reputation. We were told to avoid dropping him off at the front of the school if at all possible. Apparently if you park by the backside (by the park) there is a trail that runs right onto campus. As we parked the car and started walking down the trail, Lucas held my hand, his little fingers interlocking with mine. I started thinking back to last year, at the way he clutched my fingers as he walked into the first day of kindergarten. While his fingers are bigger, I could still feel the nervousness, the anxious energy passing through into the palm of my hand. I knew the butterflies fluttering in my stomach were also fluttering in his. As we passed through the gate onto the campus, Lucas dropped my hand. He stood up straight, held onto his backpack straps, and said "I think my new classroom is over here." The tears filled my eyes.

We found his class and met his very nice teacher. She knew Lucas was new to the school and he told her right away that we just moved. As she was talking, he was opening his backpack and putting things on his new desk. A nervous habit of trying to appear busy and together to avoid the emotions coursing through his body. His teacher, Jason and I all sensed this. We all knew what he was feeling. 

And I started crying.

Because really, the best way to make an impression on your kid's new teacher and to ease your child's anxiety is to lose it yourself, right?

I felt like an idiot and kept repeating "He'll be fine.. I'm not worried about him." But I was. How could I not be? He's my kid, I know that he was probably lucky enough to inherit my anxiety issues. I knew that he's confidant and friendly and bright. I knew that by the end of the day he would be fine. I also knew exactly at that point he also wanted to cry, but knew he couldn't. 

This past weekend, Lucas tested for his "Green Belt with White Stripe" in Tang Soo Do Martial Arts and rocked it. For each level he tests for, he has to break a board with a different punch or kick. This level's kick was a hook kick - a complicated kick that needed to be done precisely or it wouldn't crack the board. Lucas was one of the last kids in the class to attempt the break. He watched as many of his counterparts, some of them older kids that he looked up to, didn't make the break. He got up there, took a few practice shots, and on his fourth try, snapped the board clean in half. The kid is now halfway to being a black belt.

Before I left his class this morning I reminded him of this. I reminded him of his accomplishments and all he can do. I gave him a hug and kiss and reminded him to eat all his lunch. Then I stood up, took a deep breath, and walked out of the classroom.