This morning was a rough one for a while, then got better - but I could use that description for any given 10-minute span of time, really. Milo woke up crying and in a bad mood because he missed Daddy. Nora woke up happy but then wanted to sit on Milo's bed with us, and Milo wouldn't let her, which led to a tantrum. Here's how things go. Nora's sitting on my lap getting consoled because she's upset about not being able to be on Milo's bed. Milo tries to get a book out of his bookshelf but in the process he makes a whole stack of books start to fall over. He starts to freak out and yell and cry about it. I say I'll help him with the books. At that, Nora starts to freak out because she doesn't want me to stop holding her. Milo is freaking out because I am not instantly helping him with the books. I put Nora down, move 3 feet to adjust the books on the shelf (which takes 20 seconds), and at that Nora dissolves into an epic temper tantrum because I put her down. Fists pounding, screaming, crying, etc.
That's the way it always goes. It seems inevitable that at least one kid is going to lose his or her shit because I am not doing exactly what they want exactly when they want it. I know Nora's bigger issue is probably that she's hungry, so I go downstairs to make breakfast leaving her to have her giant tantrum upstairs. I listen to Milo wander around in circles in the kitchen complaining that Nora's screaming is hurting his ears. It hurts my ears too. Repeat said scenario a dozen times a day.
Sometimes I wonder, is this the age, or does the whole sibling rivalry thing make it a lot worse, or do we just happen to have a couple of real asshole kids?
We had a very nice morning at the Children's Museum. It is new, in a new location with a new design and it is totally snazzy and gorgeous. My favorite part is the rooftop area, which has a garden, a stream, grass, and a chicken coop. It has gorgeous views of the capitol building a block away and the lake behind it. The whole place is awesome and the kids love it, so they had a blast, and were happy. It's always better when we can get out and about and do interesting things. We ate lunch at the cafe there, and Milo and Nora enjoyed that novelty.
Back home everything devolves into another series of conflicts and ultimate chaos. If it's after a meal or not right before nap or bedtime, when the kids are fed and not tired, they can play together pretty well for quite a while. But if they're hungry or tired, forget about it. I went upstairs to go to the bathroom knowing full well that I probably had about 20 seconds before somebody started screaming. And so it went. They'll fight over anything and everything. Honestly the littlest conceivable thing (This gate won't close! He's looking at my ball! She's too close to me!) is cause for screaming, tears, and physical abuse.
If any adult behaved this way, even without the hitting, biting, kicking, or pushing, it would still be considered toxic and abusive. Imagine living with somebody who could go into a rage at any given moment for totally random things that you can't predict. Imagine hearing screams of rage throughout the day, every day. These things are still stressful even though they come from a toddler instead of an adult. Hearing somebody scream (or even whine) is physically stressful and misery producing. I can practically feel my blood pressure rising every time I have to listen to it. I actually think that is a big part of why I am so exhausted all the time. My body is probably dumping a crapload of cortisol into my bloodstream every time I have to deal with a toddler meltdown.
The only way I can cope with their insanity is to remember that these aren't two little adults. They're toddlers. (Preschoolers? Almost preschoolers, anyway) They lose their shit because they can't help it. An adult chooses to go into a rage. A toddler doesn't choose it, he or she just can't help it. It's really weird how babies are so compliant and happy and easygoing until they become, like, 20 months old or so, and then they become totally different people. Unpleasant people. There must be some sort of cognitive or developmental advantage to all of this negativity, although I don't know enough about child development to have any idea what it is. At some point, I imagine, they start to shift bit by bit and grow out of it a little. I hope. I can only hope.
And then there are sweet moments or poignant moments in which I curse my own failings as a parent. Like when it's surprisingly cold, all of the sudden, and windy, and Nora is panicking because she really hates the wind and I am trying to get her into the car but my unlock button isn't working. So I mumble shit to myself, sort of starting to lose it too because I too am a hater of the cold wind. And then once we're in the warm car, Nora says, earnestly to me, "We don't say shit, Mommy. We say goodness. Mommy, it's okay. It's warm now in the car. You're okay, Mommy."
Or when I hear Milo yell in fake exasperation at Nora, "I'm sick of this!" and my heart sinks as I hear my own words coming out of his mouth.
They are such a challenge. The fighting between them is the biggest challenge, so much so that when I spend an afternoon with just one of them it feels like a vacation. When they're together, and I'm refereeing, it's all I can do some days to keep it together.
I totally thought I'd be doing better than "keep it together" when I imagined having kids.
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Two more of our department members are going up for tenure this year, and I had dinner with one of them this week. It was deeply depressing. As the night progressed I realized that he kept talking like it's a foregone conclusion that he won't get it. He's going on the market now and is hoping for a good job that he can take before the whole tenure decision happens for him, so that he can avoid it all together. It saddens me that we may likely lose a great colleague over this ongoing tenure debacle.
I am behind on my paper and never have any time to write it because of my book projects, article reviews, lesson planning, grading, project meetings, etc. I am kind of panicking. It is so hard to hold it together. I guess in work life I am also at the point where I'm just trying to hold it together. And not doing a very good job. Panic is ever present.
The other night Jake, exasperated and tired of all the histrionics, said "I can't wait until this tenure thing is behind us. I'm so tired of it." I said, "Yeah, it's been this way for...uh...a long time, hasn't it." He said, "When did we start dating? No, actually, I remember when I first met you, that first year, you weren't panicking about it. You were just excited about your job."
Hearing that made me sad. "You were just excited about your job." Once upon a time, I was just excited about my job.
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