Touching Base

There was a time when I felt I was being "touched out".  Little sleep at night, nursing, carrying one baby in the sling while the two year old climbed my lap, vying for attention, had me a titch tapped.  My two year old had come upon the perfect solution to grabbing some mommy time, even if I was busy with his baby brother. He would sit or stand next to me and lay the palm of his hand on my cheek.  He would do this as I was sitting and talking to a friend, feeding his brother, or on the phone.  It was like his compromise stance that said, "I know I'm not the baby anymore but I need to know that you're here for me".

Both boys followed the developmental game of hide and seek when they were toddlers.  Basically, the game goes like this: Child runs away and plays/gets into trouble/wanders the house and then runs back after about 20-30 minutes, to make sure that you are still where they left you.  They want to be a "big kid" and separate from us but when they do it gets a little scary. They need to check in and confirm that we're still with them even when they can't see us.

The little boys are gone and young men are emerging in their place.  A new, revised version of the hide and seek game has also emerged.  It's 10x more important for my teen guys to learn how to be independent and they have all kinds of things where they need to be assertive and distinguish themselves as their own person.  Just like the original version of hide and seek though, every once in awhile they have to pop back in and make sure that we're still there for them.  The twist on the game is that sometimes we have to be the ones to figure out that they want us to come seeking. 

Now it's us as the parents, negotiating a cool way to check in with our teens and remind them that we are here for them. My young men  aren't sure what a kiss goodnight or a hug from their mom and (God forbid) dad will mean for their manhood.  We don't have a long bedtime routine anymore where we read books and talk about the day.  Instead we are in the process of discovering new compromise moves that allow us to touch base.  My husband has this very long and complicated fist bump sequence that has replaced any hugs or kisses.  I will frequently use goofy voices and surprise bear hugs to get a little love from my youngest.  Tender and caring gestures traded out for rough housing and slapstick.  When they were little and I felt completely touched out, I always knew that a little hand on my cheek could calm the fears and anxieties.  Now, I have to remind myself that just when they seem to want TLC the least, is when I should sneak up from the left flank and give a big squeeze.

Terrible Twos is for Sissies

tantrum #500 (Photo credit: demandaj)

When my boys were toddlers I remember feeling completely duped.  I'd heard that the "terrible twos" were a real parenting minefield that should be taken seriously, very seriously.  My first son turned two just after my youngest was born.  I thought that maybe his head wasn't spinning on it's neck, with him foaming at the mouth because of the novelty of the new baby.  A few months passed and still no hyper charged tantrums.  I figured that I was just blessed with an unusually mature tyke - no terrible anything for me, just normal crying jags, whining, and overtired spas attacks.  I relaxed and counted my blessings.  Then he turned three....

I felt like I had safely crossed the parenting minefield, feeling relief and gratitude, only to be hit by a car.  Did I have a freak for a child or had everyone been lying.  Was there a conspiracy going on?  Had parents everywhere decided that after enduring the incessant back and forth of need and asserted independence of the twos that it was best to never speak of the threes?  If parents knew what the threes might have in store for them would an epidemic of child abandonment take place - hundreds of little angels (%$#**@) deposited in the safe care of firemen and ERs around the country?  A lot of that time is hazy for me.  I'm glad that I came out the other side still loving my children and still married to their father.  I will simply say that while the twos were draining, the threes brought the first ever, full out, seizure-like, floor thrashing, screaming, emotional meltdowns.  The entire period taught me two very important lessons.  1. The experts don't know your wonderfully unique bundle of joy and 2. Be a boy scout.  Be prepared.

I was tricked again, about 7-8 years later, when my almost 11 year old started going through huge mood swings.  I was relaxed during these years, thinking that I had some breathing room before THE TEEN YEARS.  Instead, once again I was tricked.  Both times my kids hit 11 years, I faced emotionality I had not seen since... they were three.  Profound sadness, or anger, full out rage, and isolation, occurred in spurts, and was completely unpredictable to me.  Now they are both teenagers and at this precise moment I'm enjoying them more than ever before.  But do not be mistaken, I am reciting the adage, fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.  Fool me three times, NEVER.  I am on high alert.  I am going to go find a scouting kerchief and get me a merit badge in preparedness.