It's come to this

Dear Andrew & Abigail,

Tonight, we reached a turning point. I have said frequently (usually at bedtime) in the last months that I have seriously considered locking one or both of you in your rooms. Your aunt Audra reached that point with cousin Georgia. To be honest, I judged her for it. Well I am paying the price for that judging now. I tried to understand then how things could possibly reach the point where the only way to control a three-year-old child was to lock her in her room, but I just could not imagine the level of frustration and desperation that would lead to that. It seemed so extreme. NOW I understand. I understand the temper tantrums. The hitting. The kicking. The screaming like a caged wild animal. You think I exaggerate. If I could load audio and video here - and had a camera person from Super Nanny's crew to film it all so I could still have hands free to ward off the blows - I would find a way, just so I could have a record later of what happens on an all too regular basis in this house.

And so here we are.

I know that the reason we are here on this specific evening is because of our weekend. As fun as it was to see our friends in Tennessee, I know that the repercussions of disrupting your schedule so drastically are these fits from both of you, but more fiercely from Sweet Abigail. For Andrew, everything is hard, frustrating, unfair. We're hearing a lot of exasperated pre-teen "GAWD!!!" (ooh, I HATE that!). For Abby, living and breathing is just pure torture. The tiredness possesses her little body like a demon, turning my Sweet Abigail into Screaming Mimi. There is nothing to do but wait it out. But an audience of any kind feeds the demon. Isolation is our exorcist. And so, the lock.

I would much rather be talking about how much fun we had this weekend visiting Patrick and Ainsley and the Dinosaur Bounce House. You both did so much better on the drive than I had hoped for -- thanks to our pre-travel purchase:

You had fun swimming, bouncing, digging, sliding...all the things summer should be about. Bedtime in the hotel was okay each night, with only one major fit-throwing incident when we passed the point of no return with Abby. But mostly, you two snuggled in with Mom, Dad, or sibling and fell asleep on your own without major drama. A blessed change of pace. And Mommy and Daddy got to spend some time with our long lost friends. It was one of the most wonderful Memorial Day Weekends ever. But then we came home to reality. And now our reality includes a lock on Abby's door to keep the demon contained. I am sad, and I'm wishing for a Super Nanny fairy to come and fix this. Clearly, your parents are not having any luck. I feel like a bad mommy. That I am failing you both. That I should be able to make this work. But I have resorted to locking Abby's door. And it makes me sad.

Why can't every day be like vacation?

love,

Mommy

Updated: Daddy wasn't home when I put up the lock. He is not happy with Mommy, but I think he's mostly angry that I put a hole in the door. He is not seeing the problem. And that is making me even more sad. love, Mommy

I'll take my super-sized order of guilt to go, please

Dear Andrew & Abby,

Wow. Where to start? I have been gone to a conference for work in San Diego since Saturday and got home very late last night. While I was gone, Daddy got sick. He ran a fever from Sunday on, had a very sore throat, and was generally pretty miserable. When I called Monday to check on everyone, Daddy told me that Andrew had been great. He cooked dinner several times - you two ate a lot of Spaghettio's - and kept Abby playing quietly in his room so Daddy could rest. He was such a grown up - a Big Brother. I was very, very proud. Plus, now we know he is capable of such behavior. Hah hah!

Abby missed Mommy and asked every day if I was home yet. I left the van in Indy before I left and when you guys picked it up, Abby was even more convinced that, every day when you got home from day care, Mommy was home.

On Tuesday when I talked to you both, I told Andrew that I would take him to a special dinner at Chuck E. Cheese as a big thank you for being such a good helper while I was gone. After that, when Daddy tried to take you guys out to grab some food, Abby refused. She said she only wanted to go to Chuck E. Cheese so she could see her mommy. I maybe should have waited to tell you about Chuck E. until I got home.

San Diego was beautiful and the weather was perfect. My conference was good and interesting. I learned a lot and got to see a couple of friends I hadn't seen for years. But knowing that Daddy was pulling all the weight while he was sick and Andrew was having to step up and help out, boy did I feel guilty. But it was San Diego, after all, so it's not like I didn't still have fun. I got to go to Sea World for our Tuesday night event and I thought about you guys the whole time I watched Shamu and friends. And I did spend over $80 in the gift shop in guilt gifts. That counts for something, right?

And besides, I think I have been paying for my absence pretty much non-stop since I got home. First, I climbed in bed with Abby when I got home at 1 am - I didn't want to catch anything from Daddy. She peed on me some time before 2 am, so we were up changing sheets. I couldn't get a corner of the pillow for my own, so my already stiff neck screamed everytime I moved. Let's just say there wasn't much sleep for Mommy. And the house. Oh. My. Goodness. I don't remember the last time I saw our house looking in such a state of disaster. And considering the normal state our house is in, that is saying something. Pieces of paper from a cutting craft of some kind. Used Kleenexes STUCK to the floor. A counter overflowing with empty water bottles. Another overflowing with dirty dishes. Clothes every where. It was bad. Super bad. So far, I have the living room in a more presentable state, have done a bit of grocery shopping (you know, we were low on Spaghettio's), started the laundry, made dinner, waited on everyone, and put both of you to bed. The dishes are waiting. Daddy is feeling a little better, but his improved health has only helped him focus on the March Madness which has begun in our house.

So my guilt is starting to ease up some. While I was away, someone accused me of being high maintenance. After being home again, I'm thinking that she doesn't know from high maintenance until she meets you guys! I love you and I am so glad to be home. But next time I leave and Daddy gets sick, I'm hiring a professional nurse/maid to come and take care of things until I get back.

Love,
NurseMaid Mommy