Life in Two Minute Increments

Having twins has its perks. But it also has its drawbacks. Apparently today is I-want-what-you-have day, as it has been filled with a series of tug-of-wars over certain toys. All. Day. Long. My solution? The timer, set for two minutes and mandated sharing. Why two minutes? Because that’s about the maximum amount of time I can tolerate the crying and screaming that ensues when the desire to play with a toy overwhelms their senses. That, and it’s just enough time for a three year old’s attention span to wear off.

And when the timer doesn’t work, time out does. Which also lasts about two minutes. And since most of our day seems to be comprised of timers and time outs, it’s being lived in increments of two minutes at a time. And it keeps me from losing it...I can keep my cool through two minutes much easier than I can get through two hours. Today is one of those days where trying to teach my kids patience and perspective reminds me to do the same.

I don’t know what’s worse...the whirlwind last minute frenzy of trying to pack for a family camping trip, complete eight loads of laundry and squeeze it into duffel bags, dig out the buried supplies and equipment and make multiple trips to the store- with kids- for the things we keep forgetting...OR...actually having to go camping with all four kids. The second one is optional, the first one is not.

Don’t get me wrong, I actually enjoy camping. But camping with kids isn’t my idea of fun. “In my world”, as my kids put it, camping includes lots of recreation, no schedules, resting in a lounge chair and reading a book or taking a hike when and where ever I want. Camping with kids is without question a LOT of work. There is lots of recreation...to keep the kids busy (thereby wearing out the adults), no schedules (which translates into staying up way too late, waking up with sunlight and foregoing any naps), and resting with four kids really never happens, no matter where we are. Add to that not getting a good night’s sleep and, well, there you have it. (Besides, with half my kids gone, staying at home is as close to a vacation as I get!)

So, I’ll put up with the first (non)option, if I don’t have to endure the second. Maybe when the days of potty training are far behind us and the older kids aren’t constantly fighting it will be tolerable (and maybe even fun). In the mean time, I will brace myself for the aftermath that is camping...the whirlwind UNpacking from a camping trip, eight loads of dirty laundry to clean and put away and refilling the backpacks with school books and binders. But at least I’ll get a good night’s sleep.

The Quiet One

I’m always amazed to see a sibling sitting perfectly content and seemingly unaware of their brother or sister right next to them who is SCREAMING at the top of their lungs. Here is one thing I’ve learned about parenting: it’s usually the Quiet One’s fault. The Crying One is usually quick to point that out, but the Quiet One also knows I didn’t see it. So what does the Quiet One do? Deny it, of course!

So now that it’s become a game of Quiet-said-versus-Crying-said, the original offense becomes less and less relevant until there is a full-scale meltdown about whom I believe. Suddenly, the Quiet One has masterfully manipulated the situation into MY fault for not trusting the Quiet One’s version of the truth. Worried I am going to break Quiet One’s ego, fill Quiet One with self-loathing and basically screw Quiet One up for life, I hesitate...for a moment. I may not have seen it, but this is a perfect example of how actions speak louder than words. And Quiet One’s actions (or lack thereof) are screaming GUILTY!

So Quiet One has now turned unsuspecting mother into Yelling One at Quiet One, while trying to comfort Crying One. And, as I ponder why Quiet One is lying to me, I reminisce about the myriad of lies I told as a child- not because I was a bad kid, but simply because I didn’t want to get in trouble. So I’m compelled to teach Quiet One yet another lesson on the importance of being honest with consequences for lying...right after Yelling One emerges with her sanity after deep breathing exercises in the garage.

WHY BEING A MOM MAKES ME A BETTER PERSON

~If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing
~You have no one else to blame for your bad decisions; if you don't like the outcome, make a different one
~What did we learn from this and what are we going to differently next time?
~Hurting people solves nothing
~You're not allowed to call him names but you can tell him how you feel
~Practice makes perfect
~We're all good at different things...that's what makes us special (in other words, no one is good at everything)
~It only hurts for a little while and then it feels better
~If you're not nice to him then he's not going to be nice to you (or, "treat others the way you want to be treated")
~You don't get things because you want them, you get them because you earn them
~If we did this all the time, then it wouldn't be special
~It doesn't matter how it started, what matters is how it ends
~You will get in A LOT more trouble if you don't tell the truth, then you will if you do tell the truth
~Life's not always fair

Let's face it, these lessons take a lifetime to learn (they are just as applicable to the workplace as they are to the playground).  And my kids are more than happy to hold me accountable when I'm not putting these things into practice.  At least I know they are listening...and that being a parent is making me a better person.