Just say you're sorry

He pushed her. I didn't even see it. I was trying to get ready for work. But I heard PL bring Ben up body and bones, kicking and screaming and sit him on his bed for some "thinking-time".

"Stay in here until you are ready to say you are sorry to Frances," PL explained calmly over Ben’s shrieks and shut the door.

For the next 30 minutes, every time Ben would come out and refuse to say he was sorry, PL put him back in. And every time PL put him in there were more kicks and more screams. This must have happened 7 or 8 times. Towards the end of it, PL was holding the doorknob from the outside and Ben was pulling it from the inside. “Let me out! Let me out!” he bawled.

“Are you ready to say you’re sorry?” PL shouted over him.

“NO!”

“Then stay in there.”

A 3-year old’s will is something else. Funny, everyone warned us about pre-schooler tantrums. But that doesn't seen to make it any easier when your kid has one.

Now, Ben is no stranger to tantrums. He's pretty good at them actually. He has the whole rhythmic foot-stomping, shouting, repetitive messaging down (e.g. "NO NO NO" or "More juice polease, More juice please, More juice PLEEEASE). And this morning, he had all parts of the performance going. Not letting up for a second. It's enough to send you to the mental.

Trying to get this kid to say a simple “I’m Sorry” was like trying to get him to try broccoli or even a chicken nugget. Impossible.

“I can’t. I forgot how to say it,” he whined. Same for broccoli “I can’t. I forgot how to open my mouth.”

While this was happening, I put Frances on the bathroom floor, gave her an empty toilet paper roll and showered with the door open (again).

I felt a bit guilty that I wasn’t the stay-at-home mom handling this. But at the same time was relieved PL was dealing with it. Should I be in there trying to reason with Ben? Supporting PL? Holding the doorknob?....Nawh.

Finally, just as I was heading out the door, Ben came around the corner and hugged Frances who likely had forgot about the whole thing. Hell, she probably forgot about it the second it happened.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes full of tears, his little lips trembling. His face was honest, sweet and sorry.

I melted. All’s forgiven, my doll. All's forgiven.

I start today

May 1, 2006

Amid the Pull-ups, spit ups and kick ups, I start today as a working mom again. But this time its different. There's two of them. One of me.

I had it all planned out how I was going to get to my office by 9. I wanted to be here by 9, maybe even a few minutes earlier. No slack. Working moms never give themselves any slack. So here's how it went:
4am PL left for Toronto
5:30 FG wakes
5:31 I wake
5:35 FG gets her bottle
6:00 I crawl around on the floor with FG pretending to be a cow, horse, sheep and dog
7:00 FG gets breakfast
7:30 Ben wakes to pee
8:00 Ben gets cereal and juice with a straw (straw very important)
8:15 I shower with the door open while Ben
watches Treehouse, Frances plays with a copy of Today's Parent on the bathroom floor
8:20 The sitter arrives. I brief her.
8:30 I put on makeup (really weird wearing lipstick, not to mention at 8:30 in the morning!)
8:40 I kiss the kids
8:45 Out the door
8:50 Tim Horton's
8:55 At my desk

Not bad for Day One.

PL didn't see the big deal. He understood my anxiety about going back to work the first time after Ben. He got why I cried the whole streetcar ride across town. But he didn't get it this time. Somehow, he thinks the house will run the same as it did with me on mat leave. Milk in the fridge, clean clothes, warm suppers. His mother worked. So did mine. It all got done and still had time to make cookies at the bake sale. At least that's what you think when you're a kid.

I'm not sure yet if I can do it all. Some days when I was at home with the two of them, brushing my teeth was an accomplishment and if I flossed? That was extraordinary.

So, we'll see how it goes. Millions of moms do it every day. I'm just re-joining the group again. And I'm going to write about it here. Because I need to. And you can too. Whenever you want. If you're a mom at home or at work or pregnate and wondering how its all going to work, you can write it here as a way to share the insanity.