If Patience Were for Sale

I would definitely stand on the first line or even camp in the day before just to get it fast. But once you’re a mother, I’ve learned that it’s all it takes to a successful (read: happy) childhood..and motherhood. I’m sorry I wrote my hubby off the list since he clearly has more patience than I do when it comes to deal with kids (and everything else), so I’m selfishly saying and emphasizing on motherhood, not parenthood as a teamwork let alone grandparenthood which obviously consists of lollipops, sweet gummies and all the happy jolly stuff. 

The girls reigned over the guestroom after creating a pile of mess in another room. Just before hitting to a new spot. Tidy up? Of course they’re up for it after series of hourly lectures coming out of their fussy mom.

Yup, pretty much what I experience everyday. Sure they say a messy house means memories or creativity on the making, well whatever beeing cooked or baked, when you get to say the same thing over and over again, you’ll reach a point when you feel like you’re done talking. And yet you cannot because you’re a mom and that’s the top qualification you should own. 

If you haven’t already known, I do everything that my kids need, from A to Z, dawn to dusk, while doing my two home-based, full time jobs. No, I don’t need any admiration because I think being a mom is the best thing that’s ever happened to my life and I can’t be thankful enough for that, however, all I need is patience. I have the sweetest, prettiest girls in the world who can flip their loving attitude into a disastrous one in a second. Exactly, kids! A life-long lesson to learn from and about, and I’m still very much an avid student.

I admit I haven’t been the best mother when I lose it, when I raise my voice just to be heard because of those busy minds buzzing inside their own heads they seem to skip to listen to whatever said to their own good. You got it, approach. Develop an approach and talk the language they understand, says one theory I read somewhere. When you’re in front of three screaming 3yo’s fighting for a used straw just because one of their siblings has it while the other two don’t, and you fail to offer a better and more decent, real toy to play with, you most probably think all those theories are crap. 

Until I came across my way to deal with the situation, my genuine and organic set of theory which continues to grow as I’m finding my own approach. Yes, everything is so subjective, forgive me, parenting gurus, I need to postpone those wrinkles from landing into many more spots in my face sooner than I thought.

So during time of crisis, I would think of their faces when they were born or a few months old. Thanks to the memories any social media platforms always remind you of on a daily basis, also, my favorite app on laptop when taking a break from work docs: iPhoto. I often forget those tiny little feet that learned to walk then constantly fell, or those cute blabbering mouths on a mission to find the language people understand. Happy memories in three years plus only with the power of exploding my Mac because of their size, literally. 

Three years ago, I knoww! 

Another realiastic solution I discovered was let them deal with their own problem and give them time to hopefully find a way out based on the things you show them previously. Kids are footstep followers and the examples stick forever once given. Giving an alternative toy is what I often see now from one of the sisters during a frenzy, unless someone becomes highly provocative in lighting another fire, then I can smile from afar while preparing their meals or replying emails. Or else, I will just be the judge of the unhappy faces, hug whoever the victim is (usually who cries the loudest, again, subjective. Sorry, gurus!), and tell all of them to be good to their sisters, offer a different compelling activity and five minutes tops, I’ll hear their friendly chit chat again all over the walls. If all the tricks won’t work, I will just sing all the greatest hits of all time because singing make me feel less stressed as well as a tool to tempt the curious hear who find one the new words sound funny, then make fun out of it, giggle over and suddenly all my troubles seem so far away.  

Happy thoughts!