Replacement Therapy

Today I read a blog about replacing negative thoughts and reactions with positive ones to create new habits. This is something I'm excited to try with my son.

Since his tongue-tie surgery, his speech has not improved at all. If anything, it's gotten worse because he's developed a floppy tongue, so his enunciation is so unclear most times that I'm unable to understand him. This causes a chain reaction, where I frustratingly say, "I don't understand you. Please speak more clearly," when I know he can't. Instead of saying negative things that cause him to shut down, I'm going to try new tactics. (I need to research some lessons to do at home.)

I've put in three calls to see how to get speech therapy started, because as soon as he's able to use his new tongue, he'll have an easier time communicating, which will make our daily lives so much easier.
I am not expecting miracles; from what I've read, his speech may never improve. But since he's only 3, I think odds are in his favor, with some articulation lessons, that he'll catch up. In the meantime I'm having a difficult time wrapping my brain around knowing how hard it must be for him. My poor baby boy.

Scary Monsters at Bedtime

My son, who was a great sleeper up until about a year ago, has suddenly started talking about being scared of "monsters" and doesn't want to go to bed. So I did what every mom does when she's stuck: I Googled. Here's what I found.

Q. My 3-year-old is terrified of the "monsters" under his bed  -- it's gotten to the point where he wakes up screaming a couple nights a week. It's exhausting for everyone in the house, and I feel terrible for my child. What can I do to help him get over this fear? Does he need to see a child psychologist?

The short answer, moms, is: Your kid is alright. My Moon Boy is at the age where his imagination has started to develop and everything can be scary... cartoons, shadows on the wall, loud noises, too much excitement.  In public restrooms, he is afraid of automatic flushing toilets and often runs screaming. (Even though it's an extremely funny sight, I never let him see me smiling.) Even with an obsessive amount of night lights, he still claims to be scared at night, so I'm trying new tactics tonight.

Some points in the article stood out to me:

• Don't dismiss his fears by saying "You're not scared" or "There's nothing to be scared of." Don't tell him "Big boys don't get scared." Instead, explain monsters are only on TV and aren't real.
• Encourage him to draw or describe the 'monster' and try to find the trigger.

• Don't chase the monster away by looking under the bed. It will only draw out his fear.
• You shouldn't blame yourself for your child's fear  -- it's not your fault. Nor do his bad dreams reflect an underlying emotional or psychological problem.

You can read the article here: http://www.parenting.com/article/ask-dr-sears-mashing-monster-fears

Barbie Got Tattooed.

I

Read this and had to share..

By Kavita Varma-White

Barbie's been stirring it up again, but this time the controversy has nothing to do with her blonde ambition or bizarre body proportions.
Nope, this Barbie conjures more P!nk (the singer) than Paris (Hilton), with pink hair, leopard leggings, plenty of tattoos and a dog named "Bastardo".  Created in collaboration with the Japanese-inspired Italian designer tokidoki, it's similar to Barbies designed by Kate Spade and Bob Mackie as part of Mattel's collectors edition.
On its website, Mattel says the doll is "for the adult collector" and that it's sold out. But tokidoki Barbie's inked up skin still has people talking.
Some, like this commentor on a Christian Science Monitor story, are questioning whether the doll's tatts are appropriate for young kids.

Barbies are for children not adults [and] they should not be dressed like they are teenagers or adults.  Tattoos are tacky and should not be exposed to kids.

 Over on a Huffington Post story, a comment from Loretta Schrader says:

  Grrrrreeeeeeeat now kids in grade school and younger will be bugging their parents for tattoos and their parents will oblige .

Still, numerous others think the new Barbie is simply a sign of the times, and tattoo-sporting Moms are applauding that it's about time there's a Barbie that looks like them.
Nicolepierre, a poster on Cafemom.com's The Stir, writes:

As a tattooed mom who got pierced and dyed her hair blue to celebrate the birth of my twins (albeit 14 years ago) I so totally want this doll!"

 And as poster, Cait, commented on Babble.com:

This Barbie is great, it shows not to judge and that regardless of what someone chooses to do with their skin, they are beautiful!! I am so tired of people without tattoos thinking they are better then someone who does have them. Get over yourself! All of my tattoos have a very deep and personal meaning and I will never regret them.

Adds commentor Sabrinambowen on Cafe.com:

Sorry, but seeing how there are LOTS of children out there whose parents have tattoos, I'm not sure why Barbie (who is supposed to be an adult) having them is an issue... As a tattoed parent, I think it's awesome!

Parents, what's your take on tokidoki Barbie? And if you're a mom or dad with tattoos, how do you talk to your kids about tattoos in general?

Kavita Varma-White is a writer, editor and mom of two tweens. In between cheering at numerous soccer and baseball games, she's a contributing editor for TODAY Moms and MSNBC.com.

"Not a good fit."

Not surprisingly, after four short days at the exciting new job, I was deemed "not a good fit for us." It goes along quite well with my motto in life, haha. Always have liked to do my own thing. ;)

Tweet tweet

You can now view my twitter at https://twitter.com/#!/TatpirateMomma

Crazy How The World Goes Round

Last night was an emotional roller coaster, which makes sense following the week we had. At 8 p.m., my tattooed momma Skye texted that she was at the tattoo shop and needed to get inked RIGHT NOW. Just the day before, she lost her lifelong friend Hill to a fast-moving cancerous brain tumor that ravaged her body within a month of diagnosis. I cried when she sent the message that Hill had passed away in ICU surrounded by her friends cheering her on to the sounds of dubstep. Hill was only 19. So I spent a couple hours sitting by Skye's side listening to stories while a beautiful traditional rose was etched into her skin with the date of Hill's death: 10-26-11. At the same time, my husband was calling my phone, which was tucked in my jacket pocket on the floor, trying desperately to get in touch with me. His lifelong friend Brian had posted his goodbyes online, having hit rock bottom after losing his job, his girlfriend, and contact with his only son. So I rushed home so K could rescue his friend from ending his life. At 1 a.m. with no word, I finally fell asleep.

This morning, Brian was alive and awake, playing with my babies when I woke. And the thank you message from Skye let me know that part of her was able to heal with that rose on her arm, and I was able to be there to witness it.

Best of Both Worlds

This morning I had a job interview. Going in, there were no expectations because it was my first interview in almost two years. I'd done my research, though, and it was apparent from the company's website that they were something I wanted to be a part of... and thankfully, they liked me, too! "We like weird people," Jill said. "I don't know if that's good or not." Well, Jill, that's good. :)

In going back to work, I already know the days spent here with my babies are going to be better than before. Having just three days a week, 8 hours a day, for a break from the monotony of laundry, diapers and time-outs will be an amazing opportunity for me to have the best of both worlds. My children will get the love they should receive, and my self-esteem will benefit from putting my mind into work I can be proud of. I'm nervous, but it's time... It's exciting.

Irreparable damage

My son is sleeping on the couch in my bedroom and I can hear him making a scared, whining sound like he is having a bad dream. He wakes almost nightly thee days with bad dreams about monsters or his monkey lovies attacking him. Thing is, I can't help but think that the reason for this is me.

As a mother, my behavior should be a model of what I hope he will grow up to be, but I think over the past six months some of my actions have caused irreparable psychological damage to my baby, my son, my firstborn. I hate myself just thinking about it so I take prescribed pills to numb my feelings to avoid the anger and out-of-control feelings. My beautiful, funny, silly amazing son is afraid of his mother. He's afraid of me. It is humiliating to think about.. even to type.

I could try to pinpoint the problem, say my anger started when Star Girl was about 3 months old and wouldn't stop crying no matter what I did. As she wailed uncontrollably, unconsolable, I shouted at him to be quiet because my brain couldn't handle all that noise. I slapped his hand and smacked his butt way more than I would ever like to remember. The look on my face must have been the most frightening thing for him to see... his mother, the one who's supposed to love and comfort him always, was screaming at him to shut up like she hated him. And at 3, he should never know that feeling. He doesn't know what hate is. Just that mommy's face looked mean. I could say it's because he's tongue-tied, which creates tremendous frustration in our daily communication, and we spend every waking moment together because I stay at home. He throws himself to the floor or throws toys when he isn't understood, and he learned that from me. He is learning my anger. But the "when" doesn't really matter.

There are times I think they would be better off without me there, that I hate myself so much I'd rather hurt myself than to ever hurt them. It am ashamed of how mean I am and how badly i treat them when I get angry. What if I were to hurt him so badly in a stupid blind rage that he is permanently injured? How could I live with myself? Thankfully whatever runs my depression has never pushed me that far. My husband does not know these feelings; he is not here to live them with us day to day when he is at work, and the last thing he needs to worry about is that his wife, the mother of his children, is going to hurt them or herself.

My son is my moon, and I am teaching him the wrong thing. I need to be better, be stronger, be more kind, more loving. I have learned to walk away if i feel angry, I am learning to breathe more. I am trying every day, every single moment, not to raise my voice, not to get angry, to be patient, to hold him more, to kiss his sweet face. I don't know how to reverse the damage that my behavior has caused on him the past eight months, but I am going to use love to try.

Bad Mom Syndrome

There are some days I wonder of I am cut out to be a mom. Although I know in my heart that my two babies ARE my heart, there are too many moments in our daily life that make me question myself... And it turns into Bad Mom Syndrome, where my kids hate me and I hate myself for my behavior as a mother.

I keep telling myself it's the age, this is a phase, this too shall pass. And I know it will, but right now, almost-10-month-old Miss Attitude is attached to my side like a leech, sucking out my energy, and all of my stress ends up being taken out on my poor 3-year-old son, who doesn't deserve it. I yell more than I like, more than I ever thought I would.

I struggle with depression, stemming back to early high school, and my mind contradicts itself about the medication. When I am on my antidepressants, I'm numb and unable to feel the lows and highs of the emotions of special moments that occur daily. When I'm only on my anti-anxiety medication, the peaks and valleys are dangerous to my children.

I am ashamed of some of the ugly statements made to my son when he's being a normal rambunctious boy. I'm embarrassed by the way I have handled situations where something small sets me into a rage, where he is my target.

Every day, I hate myself for feeling out of control. To have your firstborn, who is supposed to be able to trust his mommy to calm him, cower at the sound of your voice when I move toward him brings me to tears. At times, it makes me believe suicide would be a better thing for them so that I don't cause major irreversible damage to them. However, I know that isn't the answer.

I'm still trying to figure that one out.

Silence.

It must be nap time in our house, because it's quiet. After three years, sometimes I forget how precious the sound of silence is.