Order out of chaos

If you know Adler at all, you know that his love tank requires words of affirmation and quality time. Lots of it. Preferably all your time, attention, and energy, please and thank you. He does not enjoy being alone, playing alone, or doing things alone. Before Maddox, this was fine. He helped me with any tasks he could, and we played together. The end.

Enter a baby. We had prepared for this transition by requiring both formal independent play and spontaneous independent play, but I was unprepared for how much I would have to split my time. At first, it was easy with Maddox. Eat, sleep, poop, repeat. But as he got older, he developed an opinion and awareness of his surroundings. I have to feed him in a quiet, dark room, or the feeding becomes unproductive and frustrating. That takes up time, time that I used to spend with Adler, even if he was playing at my feet while I nursed on the couch. Maddox also requires quality time now, apart from holding him while he sleeps or stares.

Adler’s behavior directly correlates with the time he spends with us (me). I didn’t realize it for a long time, but as I’ve begun to work on my own responses to frustration, I have noticed that he is happier, more cooperative, and more content when he gets regular slots of time devoted to playing with me. He also LOVES predictability and order, and knowing “the plan.” It probably goes without saying that he is not a big fan of the plan changing last-minute.

After observing his need to play with me and knowing his love for plans, I made a simple daily schedule for us to follow. I have tried this before, but I always made it too complicated and didn’t stick with it. I would make a different outline for each day of the week, accounting for things like grocery shopping, library day, etc. But I decided that, since I’m NOT a huge schedule follower, if this is going to work, it has to be simple. So I made a routine that goes by half-hour to hour-long blocks of time for the whole day. If we are home, we will follow it, if we’re out, we will just skip whatever activities we normally do at home during the time we are out. I pulled ClipArt pictures off Google and made them as little icons to put next to each item on the routine, so Adler can have a visual of the activity. Super official. So professional looking, in fact, that I don’t want to share it for fear of making others feel inferior to my mad Googling/cutting/pasting abilities.

After completing the routine, I put off actually implementing it for a few days, knowing that once I told him what was happening, there was no turning back. And boy, was I right. We started last Monday. I showed him the schedule and he was elated. I walked through each item with him once: Wake up, breakfast and chores, independent play, play with Mommy, room time, read with Mommy, etc. He was so excited and all day, he kept going back to the schedule and asking me what was next. I had to remind him to stay “in the moment” and not keep trying to move ahead too fast.

The next morning, he went to the fridge and looked at the schedule. Pointing to each icon, he named what it was, in order, without making any mistakes. This kid’s photographic memory never ceases to amaze me. As he was naming them, he said, “…play by myself, play with mommy – that’s my favorite one…” I knew instantly that my gut was right about what he needed. Order and a clear time of when I would play with him. I made our block of time playing together to begin directly after Maddox’s nap starts, so there are no interruptions. I try my hardest not to do any chores or other things during this time.

We did our schedule most days last week, and it was a hit! It’s still hard for me to stick to it, but it’s good for both of us. I bring the flexibility – “It’s OK that its 10:00 and we are still reading, we don’t have to start each activity at exactly the right time.” He brings the discipline – “Mommy, what does our schedule say? OK, let’s do it!” We have found a balance, though, and it seems to be working.

He has stopped incessantly begging me to play with him at all times, even if I just played with him for a long time. He knows what to expect, and if I’m busy, I can refer him to the schedule to see what is supposed to be happening at any given time. Instead of saying, “no, I can’t right now,” or, “I can in a little bit,” or, “don’t ask me to play again, I’ve already told you I can’t,” I get to say, “right now is play time by yourself. In 30 minutes, it’s time for us to play together.” He knows that I’m not avoiding playing with him, and he also knows when I will be able to devote time to him.

He has also stopped having such a bad attitude and acting out. Not that these things have been fixed by any means, but devoting time each day to playing with him has helped in these areas.

All this has helped with my anger, as well. I don’t get so frustrated by the incessant begging to play, no matter how many times I explain that I can’t but will “soon.” I don’t get so tired of the whining and acting out, because it has lessened. I have learned that I do, in fact, enjoy the schedule and predictability, as well, as it helps me organize my day. I am able to get tasks fully completed because I know I have a set amount of time to do it.

Overall, this change in our house has been very positive. Adler has three scheduled independent play times throughout the day, two scheduled times to play with me, one scheduled reading session with me, and one scheduled time to play with Daddy after dinner. All of this togetherness and clear, defined alone time has been really good for him.

I’m so glad I was able to finally stop the madness, recognize what was going on, and find a solution that seems to be working! Hopefully we can continue working with our schedule. I’m sure we will change it as we discover what works for us and what is too much. I will just have to make sure to prepare Adler for any changes, or the whole thing will fall apart! :-)

Fail.

Well…on Thursday, I blew it. I yelled. OK fine, I screamed. Loud. I scared Maddox and woke Brandon up, so it was a major deal. Probably one of our worst conflicts ever.

Less than three minutes after waking up, Adler disobeyed. It was minor, but worth addressing. I put him in his room while I nursed Maddox. Halfway through, he started yelling from his room, which totally annoyed me. But I swallowed it and finished feeding Maddox, then went in to talk to him. And instead of being kind and talking with him, I snapped at him. Things went downhill from there. He got upset, and I realized what I had done so I re-grouped and tried to de-escalate, but it was too late. He was bent on being angry and refusing to listen, which irritated me even more. Before I knew it, I was SCREAMING at him to stay in his room. I slammed the door, jarring Brandon from his sleep and causing Maddox to cry out. Adler screamed through the door, “ORANGE RHINO!”

And I’m not proud, but in the spirit of being open, I will share what I did.

I opened the door and screamed, “WE ARE WAY PAST ORANGE RHINO!” And I slammed the door.

Yep. It was bad. Really, really bad. I totally lost it, and when my son tried to remind me, I didn’t listen. I just kept going through my rage.

Looking back, I know our pattern. He pushes my buttons, I get annoyed, I try to stay calm but begin trying to control him, he bucks at the control and begins pushing my buttons harder. I respond negatively, then try to de-escalate. He refuses to cooperate, now tunneled in on what he thinks or wants. His lack of obedience/repentance/humility/cooperation triggers my deep anger, and I lose it.

It seems pretty simple, but in the moment, I am blinded by my anger. I, too, get tunneled in on what I want, and I can’t see the larger picture. I can’t see that, maybe I need to just step back and let both of us calm down before addressing the situation. I can’t see that this one instance of rebellion won’t necessarily lead to a life of hard crime. I can’t see the cycle, and I let it continue rather than rising above it and breaking it. I need to recognize my triggers so that when they begin, I can instantly work to cope with them, doing what is necessary to stop the conflict. That could be counting to ten, leaving the room, waiting to address a behavioral issue until I am calm, or something else. But since I am the adult and I see the pattern, I have to be the one to break it. Adler is only doing what comes naturally to him and what he has learned from me. I have to re-train myself to handle this kind of conflict, so I can be an example to him and work towards changing this dynamic of our relationship.

Once I was calm, I went back into Adler’s room. I gave him a huge hug, and through tears, apologized to him for screaming. I gave no excuses. I told him it wasn’t right and I didn’t like to be that way. I told him I am working on changing but it will take time. Then I said, “Let’s start our day over. When we leave this room, we have a chance to start over and have a happy day by working on ourselves. I’m going to work on not getting angry today. What are you going to work on?”

To which he sighed and replied, “Nofing.”

Well. Baby steps. Someday he’ll get it.

Out of Control

It has been a long time since I have blogged.

I stopped mainly because I felt I lacked direction, and when I started writing, I wanted to have a purpose. I didn’t want to copy someone else’s ideas or try too hard and have a mediocre blog where I pushed stuff out just for the sake of publishing regularly.

I have often thought of starting again because I do love to write and I don’t want to lose that skill. But I didn’t. One, because of lack of direction, and two, because of lack of time. Or laziness, or lack of motivation, or distraction, or whatever other label you want to give it. The point is, it wasn’t important enough. But it has become increasingly more important due to some experiences I’ve had recently. I have considered journaling, but I am just not a journaler. Getting my thoughts on paper helps me process some, but writing to someone (or for someone) is what really motivates me. I am an external processor (which my husband just loves), and I need to share my thoughts with someone in order to fully understand them myself.

So you, reader, are my Someone. Not that I expect a million people to see this, but one might. Just having it out there on the great World Wide Web is enough.

This post will be long, so bear with me.

Reader’s Digest version of my life lately: Anxiety and Anger.

I am controlled by the desire to control, and always have been. Most of my life, this desire for control has manifested itself in anger. It’s the “thorn in my side,” you might say. I fought it for years before realizing it would probably never go away. At times, I have had to exert less effort to control my anger than at other times, and then it will rear its ugly head again. I have been discouraged by this countless times, feeling defeated when I relapse and realizing I will probably always have to be on my guard against anger.

It’s ironic that anger controls me, when what I want is control. But when I’m angry, that is precisely what I don’t have. I not only lack the control over my situation, I lack the control over myself to handle the situation graciously.

Over the past several years, a new control coping mechanism has crept into my life: anxiety. It started about six months after Adler was born, and by the following fall, I was struggling with anxiety attacks related to my asthma. Or maybe it was asthma attacks related to my anxiety. I will never know which came first in that vicious cycle, but it took anxiety medicine to help break it. My wonderful doctor helped me realize that taking medicine was not admitting defeat, but rather using a tool to reset my brain and regain control of my thoughts. I memorized a lot of scripture at that time, and my favorite was Isaiah 26:3-4, “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in You. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord himself, is the Rock eternal.”

I was able to regain control of my thoughts, though anxiety has since been a little annoying bug that I have had to swat at off an on. It was during this time, however, that I connected my anger and anxiety to the root issue of control.

Fast forward to this past August, when my beautiful son, Maddox, was born. His birth went perfectly, and was almost exactly 12 hours. I had an epidural and a normal vaginal delivery. He shocked us by weighing in at 9 pounds 3 oz, almost 2 pounds more than Adler! Everything was great, until one week later, when I went to the doctor to check on my asthma. I mentioned that my calf hurt, and that, combined with my chief complaint of chest tightness, sent my doctor and nurse into a frenzy. Before I knew it, I was being wheeled to the hospital for a CT scan to make sure I didn’t have a blood clot. I was holding Maddox in the wheelchair and trying to get ahold of Brandon to come meet us there. I was a little scared at how serious the doctor was being, but also embarrassed that they were about to go through all this hoopla and find nothing wrong.

I was wrong. The CT scan revealed a small pulmonary embolism. I was immediately put on blood thinners. Talk about scary. I tried hard not to have anxiety about all of this, but it happened. It happened that week, and it happened two weeks later when my sister lost her baby boy at 31 weeks for no apparent reason. Why was my life falling apart? Why us? Why her? Why my nephew, sweet Rhett Levi? I told myself that worrying did no good, because, as we had just witnessed, no amount of worry would have prevented bad things from happening. Plus, I had not worried about those two things in particular. A host of other things, sure, but I never saw these coming. I could not worry my way away from problems, because there would always be something else unseen, unknown, un-worried-about.

Aside from the grief of losing my nephew, the sorrow of watching my sister grieve, and the uncertainty of my medical condition, I allowed worry and anxiety to creep into other parts of my life. Before I knew it, I was making up scenarios left and right about all the bad things that could happen. I was never paralyzed with fear, nor did I have anxiety attacks like I did a few years ago. But I did have fear, and I did let it control the majority of my thoughts.

Over the past few months, I have tried and tried to break this negative thought pattern. I have prayed, and begged, and tried to tell myself to shut up, and tried tried to change my thoughts. I have read Scripture and looked up anxiety blogs. I tried looking for anxiety books, but everything I found just seemed kind of surface-level stuff that was like, “Oh, just focus on God and then all your problems will be solved.” I have found that it does not work that way, at least not for me. I am either not spiritual enough or too skeptical or something.

So I began to think about how to better focus on stopping my negative thought patterns. Blogging again crept into my mind for several reasons. First, it would give me something to focus on. It would give me an outlet to get my thoughts out, or to write down small revelations I have had. Secondly, it would be public, and it would be a way to hold myself accountable to continue the process of discovering my anxiety and the reasons behind it, and discovering ways to change it. This idea has been brewing for a while, but until today, I had not taken action.

The reason I took action today, however, had nothing to do with anxiety. It goes back to my anger. That story is completely separate, and I will post it tomorrow.

What is the 9th month of pregnancy for?

Why does the ninth month of pregnancy exist?

I mean, seriously.  The baby is pretty much big enough to thrive if he were born, and he’s just doing stuff like shedding that wax skin or whatever it is.  Pregnancy is kind of uncomfortable and it is hot, and after the 37th week, he’d be considered full term if he came, anyways.  So why do we have to wait a whole month longer?  Can’t he just come now (or in a week and a half, when I hit 37 weeks)?

This is pretty much how I’m feeling right now and I’m only 35 weeks.  I know, it’s probably pretty early to get antsy, which is why I keep reminding myself that it could be up to 5 weeks before I go into labor.  But deep down, I don’t believe that.  I would rather it happen a week or so early, and I can tell I’m talking myself into believing that is how it will happen.  After all, my original due date was July 8, and after the first ultrasound they pushed it back to August 5.  So they could have been wrong-a month is a long time to move a due date.  Plus I walk a lot and am pretty active, doesn’t that help labor?

See, I’m talking myself into thinking I may have him early.  And I know that will only set me up for disappointment and frustration when (not if) things don’t go according to my desires.

So in this period of waiting, Brandon and I are just trying to take it easy and enjoy our last few weeks as a family of two (plus Lily).  He has been slower with work, as this season isn’t very active for his industry.  So we’ve been spending a lot of days together, sleeping in and being spontaneous.  I’m not huge on sleeping late because I value productivity, but the past few weeks my body has wanted to sleep later and I’m letting it.  Because I know that once the baby does come, it marks the end of my days of sleeping in, let alone sleeping much at all.

We are also trying to be spontaneous and enjoy activities we will miss when the baby comes, like going on dates or hanging out with friends or hosting people in our home.  We will eventually do all these things again after adjusting to our new family dynamic, but we know it may be a while and it will look different when we do.  So we are just trying to enjoy the here and now, anticipating the arrival of our son but cognizant of the fact that life will change when he’s here.

So maybe that’s what the ninth month of pregnancy is for-enjoying the time we get together and taking it easy while we can.  I am thankful we get the chance to do this, as not all couples do before their little ones arrive.

And whenever I start feeling antsy and just want the baby to get here, I’m going to come back and read this post to remind myself of the blessing that this waiting period is.  Hopefully I’m convincing enough that I believe myself.

When Interruptions Happen

This week, I had a few interruptions.  They were no big deal, but they were little things that upset my “plan.”  Thursday, I went to pick up a prescription when I got a text from the pharmacy that it was ready.  It was, in fact, not ready-somehow they sent it to the wrong Walmart and ended up having to put it on hold, re-transfer it, and fill it in the right store.  A task I had planned on spending 1/2 an hour accomplishing ended up taking two hours.  On Friday, I was making my sister’s birthday cake (Italian Cream Cake-recipe compliments of the Pioneer Woman) when I realized I was missing an essential item-a third 8″ cake pan.  I ran down to the grocery store to get it, but all they had were 9″ pans.  5 stores and an hour and a half later, I ended up giving up and buying three new pans.  Not only was I not making the size cake I had planned on, I was starting way later than I thought and was afraid I wouldn’t finish in time for the party.

These two small interruptions were no big deal, but they caused me a great deal of exhaustion and frustration.  Both of them made me run around and exert energy and time I had not planned on, and put what seemed to me to be a major kink in my day.  I had a bad attitude about it both days, and on Friday, Brandon was home to bear the brunt of my attitude.  Poor guy, he does such an awesome job putting up with my tantrums.

The truth is, neither of these interruptions were that big of a deal.  As a matter of fact, Thursday I got to go to Sonic during Happy Hour while I was waiting for my prescription.  That strawberry lemon limeade was pretty delicious on a hot afternoon!  But I still had a pretty crappy attitude about the whole thing. Why is that?  Why do I feel entitled to always having my plan go right?  I think it boils down to the fact that I feel that my plans are important and I am important enough to have things go my way.  But really, that’s not true.  I don’t even own my own life, and I don’t have a clue what will happen from one moment to the next.  Instead of huffing and puffing and snapping when things don’t go my way, a correct response would be to look for the good in the situation or look for what the Lord is trying to teach me or how He is trying to use me.  What if I missed an opportunity to show Christ to someone because I was too mad about my “bad day?”  A dear friend was just telling me a story Monday and said, “Most of Jesus’ miracles were done when someone interrupted Him.  So I’m trying to look for what miracle He wants to do when He interrupts me.”  What a great way to look at it!

The next time I have an interruption, I’m sure I’ll still put on an ugly attitude, because it’s my habit.  But maybe I will also remember to look for what the Lord wants to teach me or accomplish through me, and slowly be able to break that habit.  Maybe He will even use me in the process.

By the way, I got my prescription filled and the cake got baked and decorated on time.  Silly me for worrying.