in search of realistic parenting advice

I finally got around to reading "No Drama Discipline" based on a recommendation of a friend. I am reading the book and nodding my head: yes, connection, yes, a behavior is a cry for help, yes, regain composure. Slowly but surely a seed of doubt crawls in: this is all nice and well, but the parent has to always control herself, not to react, act loving, be comforting, suppress the impulse to yell, to release tension, Moreover, all the examples conveniently have only one child that the parent has to connect to at any given time, and somehow that connection happens fast enough not to interfere with the rest of life.


Overall, I have nor found any super new, earth-shattering material (I am about a hundred pages in). I have been applying a lot of the advice in this book in my parenting already: talk to the child, spend a lot of time in his or her world, connect, calm them down, redirect, be present, look at the big picture instead of immediate behavior change. But what the authors of this book (and other similar books) do not mention is how exhausting all of this is, how mentally draining. Now throw in more than one child and you got a situation ripe for a disaster.

My husband is on call the entire weekend. Somehow that very important piece of information slipped my mind, so I invited a friend over for Shabbos. Then I tried inviting other families who have kids in the similar age range to her kids, so all of a sudden, the Shabbos table had to be set for 20. Naturally, that is the very Shabbos that my husband got called up to deliver a baby before lunch even started. So I am madly prepping food, my kids are in shul unsupervised, my baby is running around in pajamas, and I should go over to shul to get those kids and guests. My friend helped and helped. My guests all pitched in. But naturally, this is the Shabbos that my 2 yo will not go down for a nap, I have people gathering downstairs that do not know each other, my daughter is trying to find girl-centric space in a house heavy on the boy side... My sobbing 2 yo just needs her mommy to hold her and rub her back to fall asleep.

But I end up trying to host this lunch, and with everyone helping and being easy-going, it ends up working out.The 2 yo does not end up napping. I am stressed already. I mentally make a note of making a better job scheduling large company when my husband can get called up. But now I host, serve, talk, take a drink of wine.

The guests leave, sweetly taking 7 yo and 4 yo with them. The older boys leave for shul with their friends. It grows quiet. And 2 yo decides it is time for connection. I talk to her, I read to her, I make myself a cup of tea, but I spend more time finding animals in her book than reading my book or drinking. I feed her some sort of dinner.

Everyone comes back for havdalah. My husband rushes out to round in the hospitals. And I am left trying to get everyone to collect laundry and into pajamas and into bed. I need to recharge and I know it, but instead I get a sulky teen and cranky daughter who does not want to go to bed and 4 yo who needs to go and get an ice cube to suck before falling asleep. And can they have computer time? And don't they see the state of the house?!

I wake up in a sour mood, but I try to cheer myself up with a quiet cup of coffee before everyone resurfaces for the day. 4 yo is peeking out from his room and HE wants to cuddle on the couch. so I do (connection, right?) but I miss my chance at a quiet cup because more and more kids wake up and they all want something. And I want boys to go to minyan that is at 8 so I am rushing them to be ready. And I'm trying to make pancakes because I'm hungry and who does not like pancakes? But my kids do not touch them, as my husband comes downstairs, at five to 8, phone pressed to his ear, scheduling a procedure at 9. So I shove the boys out the door to superfast shul while 2 yo makes maple syrup handprints.

And then they are back and everyone ignores my third polite request to please start sorting and folding the clean laundry. I become more direct with 13 yo: either you fold the laundry and I get 2 yo dressed, or vice versa. He picks his sister (aw, sweet!) and I go to the basement to make the guest bed witrh clean linens.

When I come back up, I am greeted by wails from upstairs. 11 yo comes down and pointedly asks me don't I hear what is going on and why am I ignoring her? I go upstairs where I find 2 yo manically trying to remove her diaper while 13 yo is tugging in vain to keep it on. They are both screaming in frustration. I take the baby who sits on me, butt-naked, sobbing and direct the rest of the kids back downstairs to sort and fold laundry. They go. I am connecting with her, but not with them. I see that she has a diaper rash and offer her a quick bath. She is delighted. She takes her time. I holler downstairs for someone to please bring me a towel and a bath mat because they are in that laundry. No response. I do not want to leave the girly alone in the tub, so I holler again.I am informed that those items are still wet in the dryer. I quickly run to get a spare.

By the time the leisurely bath with a calm 2 yo is coming to an end, I am hearing wails of 4 yo from downstairs. He comes up crying that he has way too much to fold and sort and he cannot do it. The truth is that I have been usually doing his laundry for him, so I am sure his siblings just made a large pile and that is overwhelming. Hearing her brother cry, 2 yo starts whining again. I rush to get her dressed before she loses it and come downstairs.

7 yo is exasperated because she has been trying to train her younger brother in the art of clothes folding, but he was having none of that. I pick up crying 4 yo and let him melt into me. Connection, right? Now 2 yo runs over and tries pushing him off, making space for herself. Neither of them is happy. I end up folding clothes for 4 yo that he puts away through tears. 13 yo is sulking, again. 11 yo pipes up how what I am doing is unfair, again. I see a large pile of leftover unsorted socks, again. And I have a few more loads to run.

So when 7 yo decides to open the blinds a few minutes later, she yanks on the cord a little bit harder than usual and the whole molding falls down, with the blind still attached. And it is Sunday right before New Year's day. And there is a large nail protruding. and a nice gash in the wall, And I lose it and yell all the frustration and all the connection that I have been giving away without getting anything for myself, without getting a break, without time to recharge, to even read about what is supposed to happen after all the connection. And I yell a little bit harder than the situation calls for. And I break all the connections that I have been building. 7 yo runs away from me, screaming. Two younger ones disappear.A few minutes later I get a hand-delivered note saying that she is sorry and I can do with her whatever I want. Poor child, one minute your mother is a saint and the next she is a raving lunatic. I sit next to her, I pick her up and hold her and tell her that I am sorry for yelling at her. I just did not want a broken wall.

And I do not get to finish because her friends come and pick her up and she leaves through tears.

I am looking for a parenting book where a parent is not a pushover, an only adult for most of the situations, and there are multiple children to deal with at all times. Because I have all the tools, but I do not have the circumstances that allow me to apply them successfully and healthfully.

Disclaimer: as I was typing this late at night, 13 repeatedly interrupted me to read yet another panel of the comics that he founde funny (his bid for connection) and I repeatedly asked him to stop so I could focus.

Who are the people in your neighborhood?

When I was becoming frum, my not religious grandmother, a"h, would say every time she turned on the light on Shabbos or ate not kosher food: "G-d will forgive me". She was in her eighties, and there was no point in arguing with her. I remember stewing inside: how do you know that G-d will forgive you this? How do you know that he does not care about you eating not kosher or not keeping Shabbos?

But now I wonder whether my old grandmother understood something deeper. After all, her sins were not of the leaders of my city's community. She was not reluctant to speak out about a convicted con artist who was scamming multiple people for years. She was not covering up child molesters. She was not guilty of selectively warning some congregants but not the others when a dangerous individual moved onto a block. Those were not her sins.

Torah warns us to make a railing around our rooftop, lest a person falls off the roof. Torah does not tell us to wait till somebody falls off and gets hurt and then make a railing. We are told to be proactive, to avoid innocent people getting hurt so the blood is not on our hands. So why do rabbis think that we need people to get hurt, get hurt badly, and keep on getting hurt before somebody decides that it is time to do something? Why are they so careful about the laws of Lashon Hara but not so careful about guarding the physical well-being of those who rely upon them? Why is it up to the congregants to ask: is this person dangerous? Do I have to avoid him/her?

I am very upset. I cannot be the clearinghouse for the rumors circulating here because these rumors have substance. However, why do I have to call rabbis to substantiate the rumors? Why do I have to direct others to call the rabbis? Why cannot the rabbis get up and lead by saying: this person did such and such, stay away from that person. Why does it take a mother in the community, an oddball to be speaking the truth, get attacked, get questioned?

I do not know how those rabbis sleep at night. I do not know how they go about daily life while the congregants keep inviting these neighbors over because they are trying to be open and welcoming. Those out of the loop do business with them because why would you suspect someone who goes to your school, your shul? Why would you suspect a fellow Jew when you are encouraged to love him/her? And why do rabbis love their congregants less than the congregants love their neighbors?

I do not know how these rabbis stand on Yom Kippur and recite vidui, doing teshuva for leading others astray. And I do not know how am I supposed to worry about my kashrut and Shabbat observance and ask sheelot of the same rabbis. They will not eat in my house because "it is not kosher enough" based on totally arbitrary standard that has nothing to do with halacha, but they will not worry about how kosher their actions are?

My grandmother was onto something because the G-d that I believe in can forgive an 80-year-old lady not keeping Shabbos, but Hew cannot forgive community leaders for not publicly and forcibly warning members about dangerous individuals.

getting triggered by health coach posts

I have not bought a new piece of clothing for months while slowly shedding and discarding old, worn, not fitting or "I'll never fit into it" clothing". Frugality? Depression? Minimalism? Fatalism? Body positivity? Body image issues? Accepting myself for who I am now? Lack of time to shop? Lack of desire to shop and tap into consumerism? Or maybe I am just content with what I have for the stage of life that I am in right now.

I have yet another acquaintance who befriended me on Facebook and is on a health journey. She is trying to lose weight, get healthy, eat healthy, be coached and supported, support others. I see it, I watch it, I observe it. I am happy that she is trying to do something about her weight and body image. But at the same time, I keep thinking how there is so much more to life than abstaining from licking fingers, posting recipes and motivational quotes. There is so much more to it than weight and the size of your dress and the shape that you see in the mirror.

As someone who was always thin while eating whatever I wanted, who never consistently exercised, who never agonized about going a size up, this might be dismissed as a thin girl being dismissive of a not-so-thin girl. But I have gone through five pregnancies and the weight gain that comes with that. I weight right now what I weighed at the end of my first pregnancy. I have gone through nursing and weird body sizes and bras that somehow never fit or looked flattering.  I have gone through going to the store and coming out upset because even if you are fairly thin, your belly is not the same size as your breasts which are a different size than your hips and the clothes designers do not keep that in mind. And I have gone through Hep C treatment when I lost ten pounds in six weeks, was very thin, sick as a dog... Yet through all that I have never hated my body. All these body size and shape fluctuations were a background to the life I was living, the children, homeschooling, outings, trips, classes.

So dear friend on a health journey: I know you mean well. I know that you need support, especially since you want these changes to stick. I know you are excited for what you are seeing in the mirror and on the scale and you want to share the formula of your success with the world. But I am finding myself triggered by your constant pep talk. If I want a cookie, I'll have a freaking cookie and not worry about repercussions to my thighs or the scale. If I want a get-thin-quick secret, it's ribavirin. It kills the appetite (along with a few other useful things in your body).  But come on, beautiful friend. You have lovely kids. Don't they deserve a little bit of Facebook space too? You have so many other things going on in your life. If you don't, there are so many causes to get involved in. There must be more to life than cauliflower crust pizza.

So get rid of your clothes, get cute new ones, say hello to the one you start to love in the mirror, and I will be waiting for when you are ready to have friendship go beyond calories, recipes, and self-negation.

working on not yelling

After facing the reality of how devastating yelling is to some of my kids, I have consciously cut down on yelling. (I have written about yelling before, but then I slipped, things got crazy again. I am human and imperfect and that was the emotional release shortcut.) It has been very very hard to control myself even when anger seemed justified, even when punishment seemed warranted, even when yelling was a primal scream of despair. One of the consequences of not losing it and not yelling has been how that child has reduced his tone of voice. Because the overall volume has been much lower, he modulated his voice to speak more quietly. His overall tone is so quiet that I often have a hard time hearing what he's saying, so I end up raising my voice to ask him again to speak up...

It seems that I have been the primary source of noise with my children because now I experience other people's elevation of tone or yelling as a physical slap. Probably didn't help that I was belted as a kid, so the body remembers drawing into a panic state because that kind of escalation by another adult would be followed with hitting. Oh no, no childhood abuse, just "I was spanked as a child and I have turned out alright, respectful and all." But now that the gut reaction of recoiling and protecting myself is activated, I am experiencing precisely what my children must have been experiencing all the years and times that I have raised my voice at them in frustration and anger.

And it hurts.

Because I spend so much of my day and emotional energy on controlling myself, I am drained by the evening time, when the rest of the children get concentrated mommy while trying to kick, back, let go, get comfortable and wind down. I have so little emotional reserve left that I end up losing it, either externally or internally. Sometime between 4 and 9 pm, despair sets in, the sort of despair that one experiences while pacing with a baby who just would not sleep. I am drowning while trying to rescue others.