Learning How to Roll with It When Expectations Go Unmet
Phew. This has been a BIG hurdle for me in my parenting journey. I tend to set these expectations for how much I’ll accomplish or get this picture in my head of how things should look… Then, I hold on too tightly. Try to control what I can’t. The consequences are numerous when this happens: I get frustrated at my kids. I feel guilty or worthless. I don’t roll with it.
At least, I didn’t used to roll with it. I’ve been so guilty of wrapping up my self-worth in my productivity that I’ve struggled to cope when I can’t cross just one more task off of my mental checklist. And what are toddlers really good for if not impeding productivity?
But we’re all about growth in the Mamasaur house, and it’s come to my attention here lately that my hubby and I have both grown in this area.
Kids’ Sixth Sense
It’s not seeing dead people. It’s seeing exhausted parents. Exhausted, burnt-out parents desperately anticipating and expecting a little respite. Back-to-back party-planning, baking, prepping, cleaning pre- and post-celebrations… It’s all worth it, but it does put one in a position of looking forward to the interlude.
Just the boys’ back-to-back birthday weekends, then we’ll have a two-week recuperative break until Christmas! Orson’s birthday party and day-of celebrations wrapped up. The Final Countdown began…
The Sunday after Coen’s birthday party, we’re going to have a low-key, restful Sabbath day. Screen-free Sunday, we’ll go to church, get our grocery shopping done, and make it a point to NOT be productive. Nathan and I had BIG plans to do NOTHING, which is a bigger deal than it sounds like.
Nova had other plans…
Sick on Sunday
Okay, okay. OBVIOUSLY, she didn’t plan for this. And, obviously, neither did we.
The heavy, rich foods that we’ve been eating lately (that the babies are NOT used to consuming) combined with profuse seasonal allergy drainage caught up to them in a significant way. It hit Orson first.
Dark and early, 6 AM wake-up call Saturday morning. Orson is standing in his crib, screaming and crying at the dark gray vomit that has forcefully evicted itself from his little body. All over his jammies and bedding. Dark gray because of his very black birthday cake he’s gotten to enjoy the past couple nights after supper.
Anyway, two episodes of vomit and some very black diaper changes later, he was feeling back to his generally happy self. Nova still seemed fine at this point, but she hadn’t been pounding the food quite as much as her brother had been.
Sunday morning was okay, too. Orson had a slight dip in his appetite, to be expected. Nova had no issue putting her own (and part of Orson’s) breakfast away. Everyone was dressed, loaded up in the car to head to church (which is about a 25-minute drive away from us). Twenty minutes in, Coen exclaims.
Nova just puked on herself. Not a ton, but there are no wipes in the car. No change of clothes. Just shifted gears and mindset. Calmly turned the car around and drove back to stream the service at home. Expressed gratitude that, hey, at least it happened before we got there.
But also, hey, Nova must’ve just been saving it up. Two minutes from the house, whoosh. A veritable flood of vomit (smelling sweetly strong of her morning banana, at least) poured out of our girl. Alright then, straight to the bath, babies… We’re just gonna roll with it.
Just a Little Off
We are a routine-oriented family. Nathan and I can both be a bit OCD in terms of maintaining organization and order, Coen benefits from a very structured schedule, and the toddlers thrive with familiarity and routine. It is impossible, however, to account for sicknesses in a strictly-structured, systematic schedule.
Yet, here we were. Doing our best to roll with it in spite of the circumstances.
Coen usually does his grocery shopping on Sundays during the babies’ naps so that he can meal-prep his school lunches that evening. Well, that’s been preempted now. Nathan and I needed to get our shopping done during their naps, since Nova would be in no condition to accompany us.
As much as they can, things operate in a pretty streamlined, efficient fashion around here. But throw a little wrench in there. I don’t know, say, something like an upset toddler tummy… See calamity ensue.
Of course Nova would wake up and vomit while we were gone. Of course we would rush our shopping and forget to grab Pepto-Kids. And, of course, we would come home to pukey laundry our teenager had laid out on our kitchen counters… At least he got her cleaned up…
“C’mon, Coen. We put FOOD on these counters.”
Deep breath. Roll with it. He did take care of Nova…
I turned around and hugged Coen. And he dropped his phone out of his hand. Which shattered on my foot.
When we were talking about taking a break, I’m certain that things breaking around us was NOT what Nathan and I had in mind.
And within, I kid you not, about a minute and a half of Coen’s phone breaking, Nathan fumbled a brand-new GLASS jar of Coriander onto the kitchen floor. Which also shattered.
And would you believe it? I dropped the shallots. Don’t worry. Unscathed. Shallots don’t shatter like phones. And glass jars… And dreams of peace and relaxation.
There was just an unlucky air. A series of unfortunate events precipitated by one sick little girl throwing off the rhythm and routine. Poor Nova. Just wanted to spend the rest of the day curled up across Papa’s lap. And poor Nathan…having to go through 4 pairs of jeans after repeatedly getting puked on. And poor Mamasaur… All the laundry…
All the laundry with puked-up whole almonds in it from when Nova begged Coen for snacks in our absence… You KNOW those hurt coming back up. No more almonds for Nova…
Roll with It
I could’ve chosen another title for this post. Easily.
Perhaps “Let’s Wine About it” or “Laugh to Keep from Crying”.
However, even after the day that it was, we had managed to keep our heads above water. And above the vomit. Of which, there was more. Much, much more. Multiple baths and outfit changes. Attempts at food and water that just would. NOT. stay. DOWN.
Even so, the day didn’t end with anything feeling dark and dismal, like any other name might imply… Apart from our horror game choices to unwind with for the evening (Alan Wake 2 and Among the Sleep).
We had and have grown in our capacity to just roll with it. Instead of being frustrated at or resentful of the kids when things don’t go the way that we think it should, we can recognize the good.
Appreciate the pitiful, sickly snuggles from our food-hungover, queasy, little girl. Enjoy Orson enjoying new birthday toys while his sister doesn’t have the energy to compete for them. See growth in our teenager when he’s (for the most part) able to handle issues without us there. Recognize that we still got a lot done and still made time to connect and relax.
With wine.
With games.
And with each other.
We CAN roll with it. And we’re getting better at rolling with it with every passing day.