Thursday, March 21, 2013

The Best You Can Do

Two meltdowns.

Two different locations.

One mommy.

What do you do?

Go.



The girls fell asleep on the way home from art playgroup this morning. I know some people adore it when their kids fall asleep in the car. I hate it. It never ends well. It's not enough sleep for them, but it's enough where they won't go back in their beds.

When I saw they were sleeping, I decided to let them stay asleep. I pulled into the garage, closed the door, turned off the engine, and opened the car doors a crack.

Then I unplugged Reagan's monitor, brought it into the garage, and hooked it up.

I had about 15 minutes. I did a few little tasks, talked to a friend on the phone, all while keeping an ear on the monitor and peeking in the garage every few minutes.

Reagan woke up first. She would have been ok. She falls asleep in the car more often, so it doesn't really throw her when she wakes up in her seat.  But thrown or not, she's cranky lately, and she started to cry.  I hung up my phone and dashed out to the garage.

But I was too late. Madison was awake. And she was not happy.

In fact, she was having an epic meltdown.


In our house "epic" describes the kind of fit that she truly has no control of. She screeches in short bursts, because she's practically hyperventilating. She doesn't want to be touched and will flail her way out of your arms and slap your hug away. She will scream "no" to absolutely anything. She claws at herself like she's truly itchy in her own skin. This is not a "I said no" meltdown. This is a full blown, overtired, no reason, no logic, nothing to do but wait it out meltdown.  It is totally normal for her age, but that doesn't make it fun.

I put Reagan in her booster with some fruit, put a show on TV, and carried Madison upstairs while she screamed at me. I put her in her crib; shoes, coat and all.  She batted away her pacifiers, batted away her teddy, batted away her blankets. I sat next to the crib with my hand between the bars, rubbing her back, breathing slowly, and repeating "it's ok, it's ok, it's ok".  We've had these before, and although they feel much longer, it's usually a 15-20 minute process. I can't hug her, but I also can't leave. You sit close, you stay calm, you wait it out.

As I was doing this, and actually making progress (in the sense that Madison was no longer batting my hands away), Reagan started screaming downstairs.

She's teething in a big way. She's got a massive diaper rash that makes anyone who sees it wince. She was done with her lunch, she was strapped in, and she was all alone downstairs.  She was getting into a similar type of fit, the kind she had last night, where holding her, shushing her, cuddling her doesn't help.The kind of choking sob that her sister was also experiencing.

But they were both screaming. On different floors.


Do I leave Madison, and attempt to calm Reagan, which will restart the Madison's fit that she isn't even finished with?

Do I stay with Madison, letting Reagan get to a screaming fit herself where she will require massive levels of soothing?

Who gets "the full mommy"?

Who do I make the priority?

I make little choices like this all day long. I have two little girls who need me often. When their needs overlap, it's usually pretty easy to determine who needs me more, and who'll be ok waiting a few minutes.  They may not like when they need to wait, but I can choose pretty easily.

It's moments like this where I feel like I am failing someone. Both girls really need me. At the same time.  How on earth do I choose?

This isn't a "it's tough, but you put your kid first" choice. They're both my kids.

This isn't a "ok, I know you're sad, but you're ok" choice. Neither is "ok" at that moment.

This isn't a "you don't like sharing mommy, but you have to" choice. Neither is having a meltdown "by choice". One is having an overtired fit and is actually incapable of getting control at the moment. One is physically uncomfortable and can't really communicate what she needs.

When you have multiple children, you balance them the best you can. There is always enough love. Sometimes one gets more time, sometimes one gets more attention, but it's a fluid balance. 

But sometimes you just aren't physically, literally, enough.  And someone has to be miserable because you can't help.  And you had to actually choose that their crisis was less important.

And no matter how long it takes to get everyone calm again (and things always do get calm again, usually before any help could have gotten there, because of course, you're not above asking for help), you still feel awful.

Awful for the one you didn't choose.

And awful for the one you sat with thinking "please hurry up, your sister needs me too. Come ON, just stop it".

You do the best you can. That's all anyone can ask.  That's all you can do.

Two meltdowns.

Two locations.

One mommy.

What do you do?

Go.

Thank you for all the comments and suggestions to help Reagan through this horrid teething time. Keep them coming!  Something is BOUND to work, right?
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