The Rasta Baby Whisperer

Yesterday was a particularly tough day in the Martin household so I decided to enlighten you on one of my tricks at parenting. Reggae music.

So picture this:

There was a point yesterday where I contemplated eating lunch while taking a shower...this being an outrageous and highly impractical idea, I realized that I needed to take a breather. Liam was on a rampage: whining, demanding, hitting, pulling hair etc. Rory was incredibly fussy, very rarely allowing me to put him down. By the time I was able to finish my workout and prep dinner, nap time was coming to a close and I had to chose between nourishment and hygiene. Hence the lunch shower. 

I ended up taking a shower without washing my hair and eating a veggie patty while in the parent pick up line for Jacson.

So I get Jacson from school and he was in a funk. 

Wondering why I hadn't brought him a drink?

 Me- we live five minutes from your school we can get one at home. 

Asking if he could have friends over? Me- no it's a school night, 

If he can go to the park? Me- no its really cold and looks like it's going to rain.

Can we watch a Christmas movie then? Me- Yes, after your homework is done....

"AW MAN!"

All the while he keeps messing with Liam in the back seat who is now squeeling, "Jac stop!" 

So now I'm yelling, "Jac stop it!" while attempting to drive...

We arrive home, and Jacson notices that the stupid Christmas Elf, "Cookies," had not moved since the night before. Silly me, I had been just surviving all day and forgot to move the elf, which was kindly given to us as a gift...or should I say forced upon myself by another mother who thought we needed one more task to add to our daily activites. It's called "Elf on a Shelf," why can't I just put it on the shelf and be done with it? Not that I am not grateful, but I should have kept that thing in the box for another couple years. 

"Why didn't the elf move? Mommy I really wanted him to MOVE!"

"Well Jac, maybe he enjoys being on the Christmas tree because it's a perfect view of you and your brother from there."

I open his backpack and there is a note from the teacher saying that Jacson had been "messing around" instead of doing his class work and they request that we finish the assignment at home. So this is the first task on our list of school work. It involves scissors and glue, which are things I will avoid having around Liam at all costs, but in this case we had no choice. 

Liam is full force trying to get the supplies away from Jac, who is spinning around in his chair making animal noises. I decide to get Liam some paper and a pencil and tell him he had to do his "homework" as well because I had to put dinner in the oven. 

Why did I just give a two year old a mechanical pencil???? He proceeds to scratch the crap out of our wood kitchen table. I take the pencil from him, he breaks down and grabs for Jacson's scissors. Jacson smacks Liam in the face. I send Jac to time-out and he throws himself on the floor screaming, "NO Mommy!" This startles Rory, who then begins wailing...

All three children now crying in unison. I put dinner in the oven and calmly walk over to the tv and select a reggae playlist from 8tracks. I turn it up loud enough to drown the tears and pour myself a Blue Moon. Yes, sometimes I drink on the job, it's rare and I can only get a half a beer down because my tolerance since being pregnant has definitely changed, but it does happen when the you know what hits the fan. 

I know what you're thinking and no I am not a pot head, nor have I ever been. I just love reggae. Always have. 

To my surprise, Rory immediately stops crying (I noticed his affinity for reggae in the womb) and he starts playing with the monkey hanging from his seat. I begin preparing the next day's lunches for my husband. I am now singing and dancing to the music and completely ignoring the misbehaving children. Gradually, Liam and Jacson calm down from their tantrums. Since they no longer have an audience, there is no reason to continue the performance. I look over to see them dancing around and playing with their trucks. 

I smile. 

Reggae has done it again folks. It's like the rasta baby whisperer. I mean, can you really be mad listening to reggae? 

Now the important lesson here is not really about the effects of reggae on children. The real lesson is that in this intense moment, when I felt like running for the hills or screaming at the very creatures I love most in this world, I chose to stop instead. Just stop. I turned on music that I personally enjoy, took a deep breath and could actually feel my blood pressure lowering. 

Stress plays an enormous toll on your health, both mental and physical. Children are going to do these things probably pretty often because they are just now learning right from wrong and how to deal with their emotions. We can't let ourselves get so wrapped up in underdeveloped emotions that we resort to behaving badly ourselves. Sure I could have screamed at them, but that probably would have only made the situation worse. I needed to take care of me first so that I could calm down and later I took away Jacson's toys and Liam's Frozen as punishment for the tantrums. Though, taking Frozen almost seems like more of a punishment for me lol.

Sometimes the best thing to do is nothing at all. 

Here's one of my favorite reggae tunes for your enjoyment: