I was pretty convinced that I would be the perfect mother. I had been taught by amazing parents. I had done some babysitting during my teen years. I had worked in day care. I was pretty sure I had seen it all.
Nothing. Nothing could have prepared me for parenting my second child.
Ok, really nothing could have prepared me for parenting my first child either. There is no handbook. But I did as parents do. I made it up as I went along. He was a smart little baby. He started reading at age two. It was probably my amazing parenting that did it.
Enter child number two. My beautiful daughter, Aurora, struggled. I didn’t know why. She was an easy little baby in the beginning, but by the time she was two, we were convinced she was possessed.
My amazing parenting abilities began to be tested in earnest. She wanted to do everything by herself. (I know you are thinking to yourself right now, “That’s pretty normal for a two-year-old.” And you are right. It’s real life.)
She refused help with everyday tasks including the ones she had yet to master. Brushing her teeth was a battle. She wanted to brush, but she didn’t really know how. So we would either have to tackle her, kicking and screaming, hold her down, and force brush. Or we could hand her the toothbrush and hope the toothbrush touched each tooth at least once a day.
Easily the hardest part of the day, though, was getting her dressed. On one memorable day I had finally finagled the situation to where it was ‘her idea’ to be dressed.
I grabbed a pair of underwear, a T-shirt, and some stretchy pants. I pulled off her pajamas, and I started dressing her without a word. Perhaps a better mother would have initially allowed her to pick out her own clothes and attempt to dress herself. But I was in a hurry. I needed to get my son to preschool, and experience showed that sometimes if I just dressed her really fast, she would be so distracted she would not notice until she was all dressed and we could avoid a tantrum.
No such luck this day.
I was able to get her shirt on her. But as I attempted to put the underwear on her, she said, “I do it.”
“OK.” I set the underwear on the ground in a way that she just had to slide her feet in the holes.
She grabbed it off the floor. “No. I want this one,” she said holding up another pair.
“OK.” I set up the new pair.
“No, I do it.”
“OK.” I watched her struggle to put on the underwear. “Can I help you?” I asked.
“No. I do it.” She kept struggling.
“Help me?” she asked.
“Yes.” I put her legs into the underwear and pulled it up.
“No!!” she screamed. “I do it.” And she took it off.
“You just asked me to help.”
“No. I do it.”
“OK.” I sat and watched her struggle.
“Help me?” she asked again.
“Yes,” I said through gritted teeth. I put her legs in the underwear again. This time I let her pull it up.
Then I put her legs in the pants.
“No!!” she screamed again. “I do it.” She took the pants off.
And then she took the underwear off.
Now, just remember that at this point I am very late, and I am very frustrated. But I did not yell. I think I get mommy points for that.
“OK.” And we started over.
When we finally had the underwear and the pants on, she looked down and seemed to suddenly realize that I had chosen her pants for her. She stared for a minute and screamed, “No. I want those ones,” pointing to another pair of pants.
At this point I picked her up, carried her to the car, buckled her into her seat despite her arching back and kicking feet, and drove my son to school. She screamed the whole way there and back.
Screaming was a common occurrence.
At what point did I do the ‘wrong’ thing. Was I wrong to try to dress her before taking my son to school, knowing that it would be a battle? Was I wrong to try to help her before she asked? Was I wrong to let her try to get dressed herself when I was in a hurry? Was I wrong to be in a hurry in the first place? I don’t know, but I don’t think it really matters. We survived that day, and we have survived many more.
I certainly have been taught the ideal of harmony and love and peace in the home. I had been taught that parents are patient and kind. Before I had children, I cannot remember a single time I yelled at another human. But there is often a level of incongruity between what is taught and expected and what actually is.
I still believe in harmony, love, peace, patience, and kindness. And I certainly do not condone yelling at others. But the ideal I learned at church and the realities of life do not always align. I can learn to control my actions, moods, and words, but while that can have an influence on my daughter, she is her own person. Despite my best efforts, she often chooses paths (or clothes) that are different than what I would choose for her. Sometimes she does amazing things. Her strong will leads her to create beauty out of ordinary things. And I have learned it really has little to do with my parenting abilities.
In the years since Aurora has been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder and Oppositional Defiant Disorder. With her permission I share some of her story, some of what we have learned together, and some glimmer of hope for those who struggle.
Whether you have a defiant little one or not, please join me on this journey we call life…with no handbook.