by Lara McKusky

Created on: February 23, 2009

"MOM!" shrieked my son.

Why oh why did I ever look forward with longing to the day he could say my name? I though to myself tiredly.

"WHAT?!" I shrieked back in a pretty good imitation of his own voice. Alas, the sarcasm was lost on my four year old.

"Mom, Gabe is flushing the toilet!" he tattled on his two year old brother. Did I mention that Ian was naked from the waist down? He was.

I sighed and followed him into the bathroom, all ready to lecture my little one, which would do only one of us any good, as he answered yes' to questions like, "Are you supposed to be doing that?!" As I entered the bathroom, I noticed Ian had neglected to mention that there was something IN the toilet while Gabe was enthusiastically flushing: Ian's pants. With a herculean effort, I restrained myself instead of batting Gabe about his cute little blond head. Instead, I fished the pants out and chucked them into the washing machine in the next room, assuming (wrongly) that Ian's underwear were equally wet and contained in the pants.

I sent Ian upstairs to get clean underwear on and proceeded to carry a very upset Gabe (I had yelled at him) into the living to "the chair" for time out. Mommy really needed one right now.

As he cried and flung himself repeatedly from the time-out chair, a beautiful soft leather chair, snuggled between our bookshelf and fireplace that I didn't get to use often enough, I did dishes. Lots and lots of dishes. They build up when one hasn't attended to them all day.

As soon as Gabe's timer went off, he slid down, said "Tarry mama," (Sorry mama) and ran off to play, unperturbed.

Ian came thudding down the stairs, crying and frustrated because he couldn't snap the snap on his jeans. I help him and turn back to my dishes. Thirty seconds later, Ian is crying again. Gabe has been playing his PSP and screwed up his Lego Star Wars game. Gabe is back in time out and Ian is wiping his tears on his sleeve, shooting his brother dirty looks all the while. And so the day goes.

Parenting is all about self-restraint, patience and consistency with time carved out for yourself to ease the strain of keeping insanity at bay all day. At least, when you're a stay at home mom it is! Consistency is terribly difficult to maintain in the face of constant battering against your personal boundaries (NO private time, not even in the bathroom) and constant testing of the rules. Kids will take you as far as they are willing to go, which is way past where you are willing to go, if you don't firmly stick to the rules and follow up with punishment, whatever that may be. Give them an inch and they'll take a mile and all that. Consistency is the hardest thing, hands down! One day I'm really good about it, but the next day, maybe I didn't have time for breakfast, or only got five very interrupted hours of sleep, which immediately puts me off my game and in the running for "who's crankiest today?" Here's a hint: it ain't the two year old! I often tell my boys, as I lay them down, "We had a rough day today. Tomorrow we'll try again. Tomorrow will be better, okay?" And they look at me and nod solemnly.

I try to keep that in mind as I clean applesauce off my kitchen cabinets later (Gabriel), give Ian hot sauce for being disrespectful for the umpteenth time that day and clean up dirty paw prints from our two huskies barreling into the house in the face of a heavy drizzle. I also contemplate what I could adjust the next day, when I have to start all over again, as I rock Ian, wailing because he just realized Gabe flushed his favorite underwear down the toilet earlier.

Learn more about this author, Lara McKusky.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.