Wednesday, March 7, 2012

My Little Stinker

Zeb has learned a new trick.  He holds his breath when he gets angry.  Yeah, you read that right.  My eight month old sweetheart holds his breath when he is angry! 
This past Friday night, we spent the evening in the den (the center of our house) while there were tornado sirens going off and actual tornado touchdown to the north of us.  It was quite hectic.  Well, not really.  We kept the TV on the weather, put a movie on the laptop for the girls, and brought Zeb's high chair in so that I could feed him dinner.  So, there we were.  Grammy, Ava, Adelaide, Zeb, Bobby, me, three dogs and a cat in one room.  Yeah.  That was chaos.  But we made it through with only a few branches in our yard which happens every time there is rain, wind or a nice breeze.  
As we put Ava and Adelaide to bed (for the second time) the lights all went out.  Just for a few minutes, but long enough for the girls to be completely freaked.  Zeb started screaming.  Of course, this is what Zeb does when Mommy isn't holding him.  So more chaos.
I guess whatever made the power go off was quickly fixed as what was just long enough for us to grab the flashlights. With the lights back on, Bobby and I started getting the house back in order.  I grabbed Zeb out of his high chair and Bobby put it back at the table where it belongs.  During this few minutes, I put Zeb on the floor in the den.  This is a place he frequently plays.  He went straight for the DVD shelf.  Bobby was walking by, and picked him up.
Now, the first thing you need to know is that our precious little man has a temper.  And he comes by it honestly.  I have a bit of a temper, my dad has a bit of a temper.  So when Bobby kept him from getting what he wanted, we were prepared for the ear splitting scream.  Zeb took in a deep breath and did that cry so hard without making any noise thing.  You know the one, the longer it goes the works the eventual scream is.  Yeah.  It's a cry that was perfected by Adelaide.  Then taught to Zeb by his big sister.  Something that happens several times a day in our house. 
Zeb sucked that breath in.  We were waiting.  Making comments like, "Oh wow! This gonna be a big one!"  Except, that scream never came.  Zeb turned blue.  I said Bobby, "he's BLUE! HE'S CHOKING!"  It all happened so fast.  We were in panic but function mode.  And then Zeb passed out!  He just went totally limp in Bobby's arms.  I was trying to figure out exactly what he could have gotten.  He was on the floor for two minutes.  And I was right with him.  Playing with him!  Bobby shoved him into my arms, since I've had infant first aid and CPR training.  I gave Zeb a finger sweep and he threw up.  It was pure panic mode.  Bobby called 911.
The firetruck got there very quickly in reality, but it felt like forever.  At this point, Zeb was awake and screaming.  The most blessed sound that I have ever heard!  As Bobby was the on phone with the operator, I looked around.  I had just started cleaning out the closets!  I had tubs and laundry baskets everywhere!  So, we start stacking them up so that people can come in.  It was a little ridiculous.  I was freaking out because my house was a mess and paramedics and firefighters were on their way! Then, we realized that the dogs were out.  Had to deal with them.  It was insanity.  
Once the medics arrived, all eight of them came into our tiny living room.  Good thing that I moved the baskets and tubs out of the way.  Zeb had a great time with all of the guys!  They were so accommodating.  They didn't make us feel like idiots.  They were so encouraging.  They told us that most parents get a handle on it before  they get there and that it's better to call right away instead of waiting to see if you can get it under control.  We told them what happened and they said, "Oh, that's what it was.  He was mad."
I didn't quite believe them.  I mean, MY sweet boy wouldn't do that.  He's not old enough to do that.  He can't figure that out!  But then he did it again at the mall the next day.  I was putting him in the carseat and he held his breath.  This time, I knew what was going on.  I blew in his face and he started breathing again.  That little stinker.  After talking to my mom, I learned that my dad was FAMOUS for passing out on the sidewalk as a two year old.  He did the same thing!  (By the way, once you pass out, your body will automatically start breathing) And my niece did the same thing!  Oh well.  
Our Friday night was way too exciting.  But we survived and now Zeb has an exciting story to tell.

Monday, March 5, 2012

I have been seriously convicted about my parenting.  I have been very frustrated with myself.  I know that    there are no perfect parents.  I don't expect to be one.  However, I don't want to expect perfect children either.  I have found myself yelling.  A lot.  I am a loud person by nature.  But my tone has just been so unloving.  I have had such frustration with my girls.  And my patience level has been virtually nonexistent.  Now, there are a few things you should know before you start judging me.  I have had NO sleep in the last three years.  No, really.  Since I got pregnant with Adelaide, I have not slept.  But, I am not the only tired Mama out there.  I have a husband who works about 11 hours a day.  He gets up, eats breakfast and runs.  He comes home and the kids are going to bed.  So I am on my own pretty much all day.  But he is home for breakfast.  I am not a single mother.  These are the things that kept running through my head.  I should be better.  I am not the only one dealing with this.  I don't have it as bad as.... But that was just me stepping into the comparison trap.  Instead of asking God to parent through me, I just berated myself for not being a good enough parent.  But that got me nowhere.  Finally, I decided to give up.  I got down on my knees and cried.  I begged God to take over.  I begged God to change me.  And do you know what happened?  It got crazier.  Things got more insane.  But guess what!  God took over.  I was able to relax in a situation that would have made nuts!  I was able to look at the stuff on the floor and the piles of laundry and just shrug my shoulders.  I have been able to talk to kids in a quiet voice, and slowly, they are responding.  They are not waiting for me to yell to obey.  They are changing too!  Now, it's not perfect and like I said, I don't expect it to be.  I have days where I call Bobby in tears because Zeb won't nap and the two year olds are fighting and Ava and Lexie won't do their school work.  But that's ok.  It's part of this whole we don't have to be perfect thing.  It's not an anything goes deal either.  There is still discipline.  But it's not that Mommy has yelled to the point that I can't even remember what I threatened or that what I threatened is even manageable.  God is changing me.  And God is changing my parenting.  And God is changing my kids by changing me.  I am not perfect.  And I accept that.  But I am working.  And I will continue to work.  And God is working and He will continue to work.  I'm not done yet.  And that is a freeing thought.