A Frustrated Parent's Lament

Olivia is on the cusp of turning 4 years old, and June will turn 3 in early summer. They're both in a phase right now (I sure hope it's just a phase, anyway) that is causing me a significant amount of anguish.

They love their mommy.

Not normally a bad thing, right? But these two knuckleheads take loving their mommy to a whole new level. They want "uppy" all the time (they want the Mrs. to hold them), and they're constantly under her feet to the point of trying to crawl up her legs. Not only have neither of them "cut the cord," but they often both act like they're literally trying to crawl back up into the womb. Each of them says the word "Mommy" no fewer than 113,784 times a day, trying to gain her attention, and they do it over the top of each other. The more tired they get, the clingier they are. The Mrs. tries to make dinner, and she's constantly turning around and nearly falling over one of them. The Mrs. tries to sit on the couch and relax for a minute, and they're all over her. When she takes a shower, the girls are pounding on her bathroom door, wanting in.

Olivia, especially, has always been a mommy's girl, but her level of dependence on the Mrs. has become nauseating. When the Mrs. sits down, Olivia is instantly right next to her, with as much bodily contact as humanly possible, sucking her thumb and running her hands through the Mrs.'s hair, twisting it into knots. Olivia has also decided that she suddenly can't do things that she's been able to do by herself for quite some time--dressing herself, opening the refrigerator to retrieve a yogurt, etc.--without the Mrs. "helping" her (read: doing it for her).

In the evenings, the Mrs. and I rotate reading stories to the girls before bed every other night. However, for the past several weeks, the girls raise nine kinds of hell when it's my turn to read to them. They want Mommy to do it. And when we break the news to them that it's Daddy's turn to read, you'd think we were driving a red-hot nail through their eyeballs, the way they react. They don't want me reading to them, they don't want me putting them to bed, they barely want anything to do with me.

They certainly don't want me disciplining them. I'm the seemingly heartless enforcer in our house. I have the iron fist. They know that they can slide stuff past Mommy (or wear her out) that they can't get past me. (And the Mrs. knows this. I'm not writing anything that we haven't already repeatedly discussed with each other. She balances out my heavy hand, too.)

Every night, Olivia finds her way into our bed, and then she's all over the Mrs. like glue--again with as much bodily contact as humanly possible, even to the point where she lies on top of the Mrs. And when that doesn't satisfy her need for contact with her mommy, she starts rolling around all over her, like a dog rolls in grass. It's absolutely ridiculous.

June isn't helping matters any with her own behavior. She's the most stubborn, defiant kid in the history of mankind. Well, at least since her...um...mother...was a child. (Yeah, we'll stick with THAT parent being the one who is stubborn and defiant. It's my blog. I can write anything I want!) June will say "No!" in response to EVERYTHING. She often follows it up with a very theatrical slumping of the shoulders, pouty lip out all the way, sometimes letting a string of spit slowly go from her mouth to her shirt, head hung, and a slow walk to her room. When she finally gets to her room, she slams the door shut in grand fashion, often yelling "I QUIT!", and then completely comes unglued, crying and shrieking at the top of her lungs. And she never stops. She'll carry on for hours...days...months...if we let her. And it takes absolutely no effort whatsoever to set her off. She just did it to me this morning when I told her--in a very civil tone, not raising my voice one little bit--to stop coloring on the placemats with a pen.

Tell June it's time to eat dinner? "NO!" It's time for a bath? "NO!" It's time to get out of the bath? "NO!" It's time for a diaper change? "NO!" Want to sit on the potty? "NO!" Time for bed? "NO!" Time to get up? "NO!" Time to turn off the TV? "NO!"

You get the picture.

I think the Mrs. is just as exasperated as I am, but for a different reason. For me, as silly as it sounds, it hurts my feelings--A LOT--when my daughters say that they don't want me to do anything with them, and when they act like it's absolute torture to do something with me, rather than with their mommy. I know they're just 4 and 3 years old, and they likely don't mean anything malicious towards me, but after weeks and weeks of hearing "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" every time I want to read them a story or put them to bed, it starts to take a toll. I'm also exceedingly frustrated with Olivia's sudden "helplessness" without the assistance of her mommy. And now June is starting to copy her older sister's behavior, too. June's second favorite phrase, behind "NO!", is "I can't do it!" That phrase goes right through me.

The Mrs., on the other hand, is feeling smothered, and for good reason. She's doing basically all of the childcare on a daily basis because our two little knotheads are so insistent on doing everything with Mommy. The girls constantly have a list of demands--I want juice, I want yogurt, I want candy, I want this, I want that--and they talk over each other, getting louder and more frantic in their demands as they try to drown the other one out. The Mrs. can't get a moment's peace. She gets very little sleep at night, and to make things worse, I'm a pretty heavy sleeper, while the Mrs. is a pretty light sleeper. There are times when I wake up in the morning feeling fairly refreshed, and the Mrs. looks like death warmed over because she's been up all night with one or both of the girls for some reason. I had no idea that she was up with them, or I would have helped. I know she wants to kill me, but I swear I didn't hear anything last night!

The dog is just as bad as the kids, wanting the Mrs.'s attention non-stop. You should witness the scene when the Mrs. gets home from work, having picked the kids up from school, and the dog greets her. It is absolute, unmitigated chaos for a good 30 minutes while two toddlers and a dog do everything they can to get the attention of the Mrs. and demand everything under the sun. I don't know how the Mrs. does it every day. I'd want to jump off the nearest cliff. That's probably the only thing saving me from being a widower--a total lack of cliffs in central Indiana.

I'm hoping this is just a phase. I'm hoping other parents can tell me that Olivia and June will eventually grow out of this. If I know there's an end in sight, I can hang on until we get through it. I can endure just about anything. I'm pretty stubborn and defiant that way. Er...I mean...the Mrs. is. But if this is something unusual, we need to get everyone in to see the doctor or a counselor or someone pronto because I can't take another 15 years of this.

Do You Play Football?

I just want to take a minute to record a classic moment in probation supervision before I purge it from my memory and get on with my life.

A little background info: One of our probation officers recently left our department to take a similar position in another state. For the sake of this story, we'll call him...um...Ben. Because that's his real name. This probationer met with Ben a few weeks ago for his initial appointment, and Ben then reassigned him to me for the remainder of his probation.

Ben is a very meticulous probation officer. He consistently scored near the very top of our office in performance evaluations, and he's well-known for his attention to detail. As a result, when I got the file, there were very thorough notes in place describing what Ben told this probationer at his appointment.

Our conditions of probation require that everyone--regardless of their offense--complete a substance abuse evaluation within the first 45 days of their probation. In this particular case, this probationer clearly needed to do this. The reasons why are unimportant. Just trust me on this one. He needed to complete a substance abuse evaluation.

So here's how part of the appointment went.

First, the probationer showed up 10 minutes late today because he couldn't find the entrance to the building that leads to my office. Granted, it's a different entrance than he went through to see Ben a few weeks ago, but we work in a small building. He could walk all the way around the building about 30 times in 10 minutes.

Then we get back to my office, and the first thing out of his mouth is, "Do you play football? You look like you play football." Really?, I'm thinking to myself. Because I'm 5'8". 5'9" if I stand up real tall. And no one who has seen my physique in the past 20 years would accuse me of having an athletic build. I can count on two hands the number of 5'8" or 5'9" players who have EVER played in the NFL in the past 50 years, and they were/are all lightning fast. I'm not even in the same realm as "lightning fast." And those players were/are all at least 40 pounds lighter than I am.

I ask him if he has gotten his substance abuse evaluation scheduled or completed, as Ben had told him to do.

HIM: No.

ME: Why not?

HIM: Because I have to take care of my girlfriend's kids while she's at work.

ME: Where does your girlfriend work?

HIM: She works with old people.

ME: Doing what?

HIM: You know, she goes to old people's houses. Like, old people.

ME: For what reason?

HIM: Ummmmmm.......

ME: To rob them?

HIM: No! You know, OLD PEOPLE.

ME: I know what old people are. What does your girlfriend do at old people's houses?

HIM: Well, they're, like, old people. And they're in a bed or something in their house.

ME: Uh huh. And what does she DO for them?

HIM: I guess she takes care of them.

ME: Does she work for hospice care?

HIM: Huh? What's that?

ME: *Sigh* How old are her kids?

HIM: Six and four.

ME: So what does having to watch her kids have to do with you not picking up the phone and scheduling an appointment like Ben told you to do? I have a four-year-old and a two-year-old, and I can make phone calls when I'm watching them.

HIM: Well, I can't drive.

ME: Again, what does that have to do with you not picking up the phone and scheduling an appointment?

HIM: Well, I want to go to [a specific substance abuse counseling agency], but I don't have their number.

ME: Did you check the list of counseling agencies that Ben mailed to you?

HIM: He didn't give me a list.

ME: Really, because his notes said he mailed you a list along with your initial appointment letter, and you obviously showed up for your initial appointment, so I know you got the list, too.

HIM: I don't know what I did with that envelope.

ME: Did you look in the phone book for [the particular agency's] number?

HIM: I don't have a phone book.

ME: Did you call the probation department to ask for [the particular agency's] number?

HIM: No. I thought I had the entire period of my probation to get the evaluation done.

ME: Do you not remember signing your Probation Order, and receiving a copy of it, where it says this has to be done within the first 45 days of your probation?

HIM: Nobody told me that.

ME: Really, because that doesn't sound like Ben at all to me, not making sure that you understand your conditions of probation and have a copy of them.

HIM: I didn't know.

ME: Oh, I can't wait to see the judge's face when you tell him that at your probation violation hearing.

HIM: I'm violated?!

ME: Well, you're past your 45 days the Court gave you to get your evaluation done, so why shouldn't I violate your probation?

HIM: What if I get it done by my next appointment?

ME: Ah, now you're catching on. You do that, and I might not file a violation. But if you don't, I guarantee you that I WILL file one. Do we understand each other?

HIM: Yes.

ME: Good. I'm giving you a drug screen today, too.

(Long pause)

HIM: Did you play COLLEGE football?