The truth about me is that I feel like I deserve a medal for doing many things… mowing the lawn, cleaning Liv’s little potties, making a great dinner. Ridiculous and petty, but there it is. We all do mundane tasks everyday without any kudos and I’m aware of that. Nonetheless, unwinding last night via blogging and chocolate? Good stuff. Thanks to the other parents who commented. I know I’m not alone in the realm of Target Tantrums.

The truth about parenthood is that it’s hard business. Dirty business. Business for tough people who have soft hearts. Soft people with tough hearts just won’t cut it in this line of work. When I reflect on the most gratifying experiences of my life, I find that they all involve hard work. When you roll up your sleeves and pour yourself into a project, you find that much more joy in the results. Perhaps that’s why, every evening after Liv’s asleep, I think of her little round face on her pillow, complete with two fingers in her mouth, and I fall in love with her all over again.

Someone pin a frickin’ medal on me. Seriously. I just stepped out of Super Target with the most ill-behaved three year old in history and I feel like I deserve a reward for surviving the battle without losing my cool.

It was all planned out. A shopping trip with the added enticement of a Shrek popsicle for good behavior. When we walk into the store Liv is in fine spirits. But soon her bad-store-self starts coming out… First she wants to open and close a Rubbermaid organizer with clasps too tight for her hands to control. (Translation: She begins shrieking each time she can’t open or close the lid, thus flustering me as I search for decongestants and cough suppressants in the pharmaceutical section.) So I begin to speed up my shopping; I whip through the condiments aisle for honey, then head for dairy creamer at a clipped pace. Somewhere around the aisles of paper goods, Livia begins to open the honey jar—ack, can you imagine the mess?!—and is sternly warned against peeling off the inner seal. Then starts the back and forth of disobedience regarding the honey. At this point, I’ve successfully found the creamer and am now in a rapid-fire hunt for chocolate, which will be consumed out of necessity one minute after Livia’s bedtime. Now the real fit, complete with loud dramatic shrieks of pain, commences. I couldn’t help but reflect on the ridiculous irony of Liv, stretched out in the grocery cart, complaining that there is TOO MUCH FOOD IN THE CART, I CAN’T GET COMFORTABLE!! If she had maintained one lick of rational thought I might have explained that the cart is for food, not her big-almost-four-year-old body, but alas…

So I’m finally at the checkout lanes, ignoring with all my might the full-on tantrum taking place in my red cart. The folks behind me seem to be gasping in horror at the freak show we’re putting on and I resist the urge to make a wise crack about how this is a good reminder to use birth control only because they look to be beyond birth control years anyhow. My self-awareness escalates and I do actually want to crawl into a hole due to embarrassment, but I’m determined to play it cool and ignore my child’s fit. The young cashier has the audacity to wish me a good day and I escape through the front door to the sound of my daughter sobbing dramatically, “I want to be a GOOD girl!” Truly, she knows what’s coming.

The bomb drops. This time, it’s from my lips.

“No Shrek popsicle for you. And when we get home, you’re going straight to bed.”

Now, about that medal…

Jeremy and I were watching a movie, one I hesitated to watch because I find Cameron Diaz beautiful but quite annoying, and during one particular scene Jeremy found great inspiration. This little maneuver always gets big laughs from the crowd (the crowd being Livia of course). The shot of Liv is the only one that wasn’t blurry, but to get her real mood, imagine those little lips opening up into a huge belly laugh. Her Daddy cracks. her. up!

Yesterday Bobby (one of Liv’s quints) was taken for a walk and we needed coats to ward off the chill. Today it was Nanny’s turn and we stripped down to short sleeves. Hallelujah–spring is on its way!

Microwave? Check.
Tea, sugar and mugs? Check.
Mixer? Check.
Bread maker? Check.
Kitchen sprite? Check.

Yup. All’s accounted for.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. 
-Galatians 6:9

I stumbled upon a blog where the blogger picked a bible verse to memorize and meditate on at the start of each new year. Galatians 6:9 is that verse for me in 2008. While it can easily be applied to a multitude of situations, I feel it most acutely applies to parenthood. Do not become weary, do not give up, wait for the harvest.

Dear Calvin,

I know your mom is a better cook than I am. I also think she’s tidier than I am. In case the second statement is, in fact, true, then let me show you how to make a huge mess—and how to have great fun in the making of the huge mess. You’ll need to open the box that came in the mail, set the playdoh aside, and pull on those cool giraffe boots. Having fun yet? Good. Now, don’t you dare find contentment with wearing those boots indoors, young man. Beg your mama to find you the largest, muddiest puddle in St. Louis and then try to emulate the following shots.

You’ll need to run back and forth in the puddles, splashing the mud way up high in the air.

Sometimes you can stand still and jump, other times you should leap across the water like a frog.

You’ll know you’ve had good clean (ha!) fun when even your knees are filthy. Sometimes the mud comes out of clothes, sometimes it doesn’t, but don’t let that stuff worry you. Your mom will take care of the mess later. It’s your job to have fun with your new giraffe boots. And next time you’re in Lincoln, you and Liv can run puddles together.

Love,
Rebecca

It’s quiet time in the Tredway household. Livia’s upstairs taking it easy in her room. Jeremy’s sequestered in his home office, web developing away. And it’s quiet. Way too quiet for this wife and mama. I need to tidy the first floor, make a few soups for dinner, and do the dishes and yet I find myself unmotivated in all this quiet. So I called next door to check on the baby. No answer. I called my mom. But I think her phone is turned off. I even called Sarah in St. Louis. We never catch each other on the phone, so I wasn’t surprised I had to leave a message.

I am placing all blame for my conversational needs squarely under the title of Extroversion. Yes, sometimes it does feel like a curse.

I’m reading a book right now called Raising Your Spirited Child. The subtitle, worth sharing, explains that the book is “a guide for parents whose child is more intense, sensitive, perceptive, persistent and energetic”. It’s great so far (more on it someday when I actually complete the thing) and I want to share a bit with you from the chapter entitled, “Extrovert or Introvert: Finding the Energy to Cope.” Author Mary Sheedy Kurcinka says that extroverts need time with people:

“Extroverts collect their energy on the outside. Not only do they like people, they need them. Allowing extroverts to talk, share their experiences, and air their feelings gives them energy. Extroverts talk their way through movies, television shows, and the newspaper. They like to discuss the action and ideas as they occur, either in person or by telephone” (Harper 1991, p.90).

Though I’m reading this book in order to understand my own spirited child, this chapter has shed light on my personality as well as Jeremy’s. Every time I read something about how introverts work, I’m a bit shocked and then laugh at how accurately it describes my husband. And then, the explanation of extroverts fits me to a “t”. So, read ahead to see if either of the following paragraphs describe you perfectly. Where do you get your energy… from people or from being alone? Final note: there’s no right answer to personality type. We are all simply built in a particular fashion, there’s no right or wrong way about how you prefer to get re-energized.

[Excerpt taken from Raising Your Spirited Child by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka]

If You Are an Extrovert, You Probably:

• want to talk with someone at the end of a busy day.
• have an immediate answer for a question.
• want to invite friends over on a Friday night.
• are comfortable repeating something already said by someone else.
• need and like to hear that others love you and like your work.
• start to invited a few friends for dinner and realize you’ve invited the entire neighborhood.
• find yourself telling your introverted child to get out of her room and call a few friends.
• solve a problem by talking through the solution with someone else.
• feel comfortable initiating a conversation.
• call for the babysitter.
• are comfortable revealing personal things about yourself.
• frequently leave a party chastising yourself for talking too much and not listening.
• enjoy and need to interact with other people and feel exhausted when you have spent too much time alone or only with young children.
• immediately share a new idea or experience with someone and find joy and energy in the telling.

If You Are an Introvert, You Probably:

• sit down with the newspaper or zone out in front of the television after a hard day.
• will do anything, even clean the toilets, if someone else will agree to call the sitter.
• can’t imagine wanting to invite a group over on Friday night.
• find being in a large group for an extended period of time exhausting.
• share personal information only with those who are very close to you. It may not be unusual for a long-term friend to exclaim, “I never knew that about you!”
• think before answering a question, often berating yourself for not sharing an answer you knew.
• frequently have extroverts ask you the same question twice because they interpret your pause to think as ignorance of the question.
• prefer dinner with the family or one special friend, rather than with the whole neighborhood.
• find yourself hiding in the bathroom or back bedroom at large family gatherings.
• solve a problem by thinking it through yourself before ever talking about it with anyone else.
• get tired of telling extroverts what a wonderful job they’re doing and how much you love and appreciate them.

I’ve been told that most kids will stop sucking their fingers around age 4 or 5 due to peer pressure. My child is not “most kids” though so I’m not holding my breath. The very first song she created goes something like this: Finger Mouth. Finger Mo-ou-outh. Oooohhh! Finger Mouth! God bless those two wrinkly fingers on her right hand. They’ve calmed her more nights than one would imagine.

“I need a juice box because I love you!”

This was the pronouncement I heard from Liv this morning. A twist on the correct version, but it got me nonetheless. I can see the future now: I need an all-expenses paid trip to Europe… because you love me!