Someone asked me during a conversation recently if I spank Kaden or give him time-outs. I guess the question rather surprised me and took me off guard. I mean, Kaden is only 16 months old.
She asked me the question after I mentioned Kaden has been throwing temper tantrums lately, even banging his head against things when he doesn’t get his way. I’m not going to punish him for that. He doesn’t yet know how to express his anger or frustration in any other way. It’s not like he can say, “Mommy, I am really angry right now”. I think the best way to deal with tantrums is to simply ignore them and, most importantly, not change my “no” to a “yes” or otherwise “give in” to what he wants after he throws a tantrum. He’ll eventually learn that tantrums do not get him what he wants and stop them. Or at least I hope so. If he’s still throwing them when he is older and better able to understand me and express himself verbally, then we’ll need to reassess how we’re handling it.
The only ways I discipline Kaden at this point are (1) telling him “no”, “stop”, etc., (2) taking something away from him (in cases where the item is involved in the negative behavior), (3) putting him down or stopping playing with him, (4) ignoring him when he throws a temper tantrum, or (5) holding him in my lap for a few seconds if he keeps doing something he shouldn’t do and I can’t distract him. That is as close to a time-out as I get. I suppose I could put him in his crib (which we never use) for a time-out, but how else could you get a 16 month old to stay in one place? I can’t say “Go sit in the naughty chair, Kaden” and expect him to listen. He is just too young.
The person who asked me about spanking and time-outs has never had children of her own, so maybe she really doesn’t understand where a 16 month old is developmentally. (She has step-grandchildren, but never raised children herself.) I certainly couldn’t have told you before I had a child of my own.
I am against spanking in general, but especially at this age (and earlier). There is no way he could understand why mommy was hurting him. I honestly just can not imagine laying my hands on him in that way. It almost brings me to tears just thinking about it. My disciplinary techniques will certainly change over time, as he ages and matures. I want the discipline to match the behavior and the child. I am not sure what techniques I will use exactly, and I certainly do not claim to be any kind of expert, but I have no plans whatsoever to use spanking for discipline.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Monday, November 19, 2007
Baby Number Two??
My husband tells me that only insane people have a second child (or more). Well, I guess I’m insane because I want another one… I think. Part of me does at least. Another part of me just can not imagine loving another child the way I love Kaden. I know that I would, but it really is difficult to think about. It is like how one really can’t imagine what it is like to have a child until they do. I know that I can’t really know what it will be like to have two.
It is just that I feel like this child is the most special child on earth, so how could another one possibly compare to him? I know that is probably irrational and of course a second child would be just as special. I just can’t imagine it.
And I love doting all my affection (well, I do save some for my husband) on this one child, giving him all my maternal energy, and cherishing every moment with him. Will I short change him, or the new child, if I have another one? During the first six to nine months of Kaden’s life, I really felt I had no energy to spare for anyone else, including my husband. I was so exhausted all the time and caring for him just consumed me. So I guess I’m afraid if I have another baby, that for at least half a year, I won’t be able to give Kaden the attention he needs and deserves; not to even mention my husband.
Can I really handle it? I honestly don’t know. What if the baby has health problems or is just especially difficult or colicky? What if the baby just won’t sleep well (the same problem I had with Kaden)? I know there are a million “what if’s”. I guess when you have children, you are just taking a blind leap-of-faith that you can deal with whatever comes your way. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
My husband and I had a talk over the weekend, and while he made the above statement about being insane to have another one, he understands that I just have this need to have one more. During the difficult times with Kaden, my husband was adamant that he didn’t want to have any more kids. I think he sees now that those times are just temporary and that we can make it through. And while we can’t predict what it will be like with a second child, we both know we’ve learned a lot; not necessarily about how to be better parents necessarily, but how to “roll with the punches” (for lack of a better phrase) and not spend so much time worrying and stressing over every little thing. (OK, I admit it, that lesson really had to be learned mostly by me).
I don’t know if it was the talk we had or what, but I found myself doting over my friend’s six month old last night and wanting to hold and play with him. I really am not the type of person who usually gets warm and fuzzy feelings when I’m around infants, and while I’ve of course held my friend’s baby before, I don’t every time I’m around them, nor do I want to. But it seems some kind of baby spark has been lit inside me and I just couldn’t get enough of him last night.
So where does all of this leave me? Well, as of right now, I think we’re going to start trying to conceive some time next year, after Kaden turns two, so that he will be three (or almost) by the time the baby is born. I really don’t think I could handle two little ones that are so reliant on me for their every need. Yes, my husband helps out, but it seems no matter how big of a feminist I think I am, I end up doing most of the childcare. (But the trade-off, at least, is that my husband has to do the majority of the housework.) And I think once a new baby is here, then he will take a bigger role with Kaden.
So that’s the plan for now. (And if you know me well at all, everything has to be planned.)
It is just that I feel like this child is the most special child on earth, so how could another one possibly compare to him? I know that is probably irrational and of course a second child would be just as special. I just can’t imagine it.
And I love doting all my affection (well, I do save some for my husband) on this one child, giving him all my maternal energy, and cherishing every moment with him. Will I short change him, or the new child, if I have another one? During the first six to nine months of Kaden’s life, I really felt I had no energy to spare for anyone else, including my husband. I was so exhausted all the time and caring for him just consumed me. So I guess I’m afraid if I have another baby, that for at least half a year, I won’t be able to give Kaden the attention he needs and deserves; not to even mention my husband.
Can I really handle it? I honestly don’t know. What if the baby has health problems or is just especially difficult or colicky? What if the baby just won’t sleep well (the same problem I had with Kaden)? I know there are a million “what if’s”. I guess when you have children, you are just taking a blind leap-of-faith that you can deal with whatever comes your way. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
My husband and I had a talk over the weekend, and while he made the above statement about being insane to have another one, he understands that I just have this need to have one more. During the difficult times with Kaden, my husband was adamant that he didn’t want to have any more kids. I think he sees now that those times are just temporary and that we can make it through. And while we can’t predict what it will be like with a second child, we both know we’ve learned a lot; not necessarily about how to be better parents necessarily, but how to “roll with the punches” (for lack of a better phrase) and not spend so much time worrying and stressing over every little thing. (OK, I admit it, that lesson really had to be learned mostly by me).
I don’t know if it was the talk we had or what, but I found myself doting over my friend’s six month old last night and wanting to hold and play with him. I really am not the type of person who usually gets warm and fuzzy feelings when I’m around infants, and while I’ve of course held my friend’s baby before, I don’t every time I’m around them, nor do I want to. But it seems some kind of baby spark has been lit inside me and I just couldn’t get enough of him last night.
So where does all of this leave me? Well, as of right now, I think we’re going to start trying to conceive some time next year, after Kaden turns two, so that he will be three (or almost) by the time the baby is born. I really don’t think I could handle two little ones that are so reliant on me for their every need. Yes, my husband helps out, but it seems no matter how big of a feminist I think I am, I end up doing most of the childcare. (But the trade-off, at least, is that my husband has to do the majority of the housework.) And I think once a new baby is here, then he will take a bigger role with Kaden.
So that’s the plan for now. (And if you know me well at all, everything has to be planned.)
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Moments that Shape Us
Have you ever though about the moments in your life that have changed you in some way or left a significant impact on how you view the world? Perhaps we are born with a base personality, but our experiences throughout life shape us and our outlooks.
One of the earliest traumatic experiences in my life happened when I was about 5 or so. We lived in government house (a.k.a, the projects) and I had a little bicycle I was riding around the sidewalk out front. I was a big rectangle with another sidewalk through the middle, so it was kind of a square “8”. Well, that bicycle must have been in horrible shape because the next thing I know, 3 or 4 kids are surrounding me, chasing me, and making fun of my bicycle. I went home crying. I mean, how bad must it have been for the other project kids to make fun of it? My dad immediately took me and my sister to the store and used the last of his money to buy us both brand new bikes. I think this experience was one of the first that led me to believe my family and I were not as “good” as other people.
This feeling is, at least in part, what caused me to behave the way I did in high school and even the start of college. I so badly wanted to fit in with the “popular” kids, i.e. the kids who came from families with money. I specifically set out to be a snob. I tried to ignore and get rid of friends who were not popular. I guess I thought if I behaved like I was in the popular crowd, then I would be. It didn’t work of course. I never fit in. Part of that may just be my personality. I often have trouble fitting in with groups. Then when I started college, I saw it as an opportunity to “reinvent” myself. No one knew me, so I could be anyone I wanted to be. So who did I try to become? A whiny, attention-seeking girl who flirted with all the guys and led them on. Nice, huh? I guess I thought I would be popular then, at least with the guys.
So I really think all these behaviors go back to that feeling of not being as good as other people, and trying desperately somehow to be ‘as good’. I have struggled with this all my life, and I think I have mostly conquered it, though that feeling rears its head from time to time. It helps to be aware of it so I can purge it before it takes hold of my consciousness.
Another experience that had a profound effect on me for many years happened when I was 11 or 12 I think. A friend of my parents that they knew from church was dying of cancer and we went to visit him. The last time I saw this man he looked perfectly healthy. On this visit, he looked grotesque. He was covered in these huge, red sores, all over his body and face. I couldn’t stand to look at him, much less be near him or give him a hug. I think I was just too young to process what was going on. From that day forward, I was fearful of death, but more the act of dying, and specifically deadly diseases. I swear I spent so many years, the healthiest years of my life, so afraid of getting some horrible disease and dying. I obsessed about it, thought about it at night, “what if I have this or that disease and don’t know it?” It was horrible.
I honestly don’t think I fully got over that fear until I got pregnant. Then all my worries were for my unborn child and they are still for him, now that he is born. But I’m not obsessive about it and I don’t lie awake at night thinking about all the horrible things that might happen to him. (Well, at least not too often.)
I’ve come to realize that if you find yourself overreacting to something or acting in an irrational way when something happens, you can often trace that reaction back to a traumatic experience in your past. I think this is true for most of us, if not all. Learning this has really helped me move past some of my biggest fears. They’re still there—but being aware of why I feel the way I do helps me to move forward. It might just work for you too.
One of the earliest traumatic experiences in my life happened when I was about 5 or so. We lived in government house (a.k.a, the projects) and I had a little bicycle I was riding around the sidewalk out front. I was a big rectangle with another sidewalk through the middle, so it was kind of a square “8”. Well, that bicycle must have been in horrible shape because the next thing I know, 3 or 4 kids are surrounding me, chasing me, and making fun of my bicycle. I went home crying. I mean, how bad must it have been for the other project kids to make fun of it? My dad immediately took me and my sister to the store and used the last of his money to buy us both brand new bikes. I think this experience was one of the first that led me to believe my family and I were not as “good” as other people.
This feeling is, at least in part, what caused me to behave the way I did in high school and even the start of college. I so badly wanted to fit in with the “popular” kids, i.e. the kids who came from families with money. I specifically set out to be a snob. I tried to ignore and get rid of friends who were not popular. I guess I thought if I behaved like I was in the popular crowd, then I would be. It didn’t work of course. I never fit in. Part of that may just be my personality. I often have trouble fitting in with groups. Then when I started college, I saw it as an opportunity to “reinvent” myself. No one knew me, so I could be anyone I wanted to be. So who did I try to become? A whiny, attention-seeking girl who flirted with all the guys and led them on. Nice, huh? I guess I thought I would be popular then, at least with the guys.
So I really think all these behaviors go back to that feeling of not being as good as other people, and trying desperately somehow to be ‘as good’. I have struggled with this all my life, and I think I have mostly conquered it, though that feeling rears its head from time to time. It helps to be aware of it so I can purge it before it takes hold of my consciousness.
Another experience that had a profound effect on me for many years happened when I was 11 or 12 I think. A friend of my parents that they knew from church was dying of cancer and we went to visit him. The last time I saw this man he looked perfectly healthy. On this visit, he looked grotesque. He was covered in these huge, red sores, all over his body and face. I couldn’t stand to look at him, much less be near him or give him a hug. I think I was just too young to process what was going on. From that day forward, I was fearful of death, but more the act of dying, and specifically deadly diseases. I swear I spent so many years, the healthiest years of my life, so afraid of getting some horrible disease and dying. I obsessed about it, thought about it at night, “what if I have this or that disease and don’t know it?” It was horrible.
I honestly don’t think I fully got over that fear until I got pregnant. Then all my worries were for my unborn child and they are still for him, now that he is born. But I’m not obsessive about it and I don’t lie awake at night thinking about all the horrible things that might happen to him. (Well, at least not too often.)
I’ve come to realize that if you find yourself overreacting to something or acting in an irrational way when something happens, you can often trace that reaction back to a traumatic experience in your past. I think this is true for most of us, if not all. Learning this has really helped me move past some of my biggest fears. They’re still there—but being aware of why I feel the way I do helps me to move forward. It might just work for you too.
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