A couple months ago, I wrote about all the transitions in our life and how it had taken far longer to settle in than I initially expected. I talked about the addition of our third son and how I knew what to expect this time, and how long it would take for everyone to feel settled again. Somehow, after Graham was born, all my hard-earned knowledge and expectations flew out the window.

To say it has been ugly at my house is an understatement, and for much of the three weeks since Graham was born my mom was here to help with some of the physical lifting, entertaining, etc. Nonetheless, this mama has somehow morphed into the exact parent I don’t want to be.

If you had asked me yesterday what the issue in our house is, I would have said that with all the transition Finn and Elliot are just acting awful, testing every boundary, not listening or obeying at all, meltdown city, etc. Today, I recognize that while much of that is still true, the real problem hasn’t been them. It’s me. And, friends, as a mama, it’s really hard to own up to the idea that I’m the one with the problem.

While few people would argue that raising three kids currently under two (the boys will be two in March) should be a walk in the park, I’ve been having a big ol’ pity party for myself over how difficult my life suddenly seems. This is indeed my reality and I love each of my boys tremendously and wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. Because those little boys are the loves of my life, something clearly needed to change, but all I could see was that the toddlers’ behavior was the problem. I mean, I was the one with a boob monster attached to me 24/7. I was the one recovering from surgery. I was the one that was responsible for parenting these three kiddos during the day. My response to my alleged suffering was to morph to a parenting style I really try to avoid. I was yelling. I was snapping at them without warning. I wasn’t making the effort to set aside time with each of them because after all, I had a newborn that needed me and a million things to do when he was sleeping. I was enforcing boundaries only when it was convenient for me because I didn’t know what do about it if I was in the middle of feeding a baby that latches and unlatches multiple times and still requires a lot of “help” each nursing session. Basically, I was entirely reactive, unpredictable, and far harsher than was needed.

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The first part of my epiphany started last night when I was reading a post entitled Surviving Sibling Struggles by Janet Lansbury. A few things in there clicked in a way that made me realize that if there are moments when I feel like my life is spiraling out of control right now and the world is all against me, imagine how my sweet little boys feel. They were too young to understand our talks of a “new baby.” They just know that now we have a baby in the house, Mama is suddenly spending most of her time with the baby, Grandma has been around a lot, there are new rules to learn, and a new dynamic to understand. All they know is that “life got flipped, turned upside down.” (I know it dates me, but it’s a classic line!) This all especially clicked in my mind for Elliot. Finn’s obviously got some transition pains to grow through, but my little El-Bear is my boy of the status quo. He does not like change. Any change. He will insist on wearing shoes that are too small rather than wear the new pair because they are not HIS brown loafers. He’s always been more sensitive emotionally, too  It takes a lot of preparation and a lot of patience and love after the fact to get him to adjust to any change, so I suddenly couldn’t imagine how upset and out of control he must have felt for the last three weeks.

Today was my first day on my own with my three-week old and the twins. Most of the day, I felt like I was doing a pretty dang good job. Sure we watched more TV than we should, but it’s survival, right? I was calmer. I didn’t yell. I communicated better and gave consequences more appropriately. I was really starting to feel proud of myself. Sure, there were still obvious transition issues, but I was not compassionate, communicative Mama, and I was going to respectfully and graciously help my kids through this tough time. Then 4:00 happened. It happens every day and as every day before, my sweet boys suddenly turned into rabid monsters who were going beserk, breaking every rule we’ve always had, not listening or obeying, whining constantly, etc. Basically, your typical “witching hour” for toddler.  By 5:30 when Mr. Blue got home, I was back to my former ugly Mama self. All my behavior from the last few weeks came flooding back as a mechanism to cope.

About 6:15, The Battle started. What it was about wasn’t really important, but what is important is that I let it become a mammoth power struggle, which I know is stupid and completely unproductive. By the end of it, we were both emotional wrecks who weren’t giving an inch and I declared that he was just going to have to go to bed. Now. An hour early. Because surely, a lack of sleep was his issue and not a mama that was behaving like a toddler while expecting her toddlers to behave like adults.

The boys often have to fuss or chat to themselves for a long time before they go to sleep, but tonight El was in a temper and was crying inconsolably, even though we had gotten back to at least a reasonable emotional level before actually putting them to bed. El cried and cried. Mr. Blue went in a couple times to check on him while I nursed Graham. He was quiet while Mr. Blue held him, but as soon as he left, the sobs would come back. When I finished feeding the baby, I knew what I needed to do. I grabbed some milk as a peace offering (which we never give them right before bed) and went into their room. I leaned over El’s bed and asked if Mama could hold him and give him some milk. He lifted his arms up and we sat in the rocking chair.

“Elliot, Mama is so sorry she acted like that tonight. You deserved better. Mama was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

While I was saying my spill, my tender-hearted boy kept saying, “Sorry!  Sorry!  Sorry!” in the saddest voice. I whispered in his ear for a little bit about how I knew it was really hard to be a big brother and to have so much change, but that I was really proud of him for all the progress he was making and for what a good big brother he was being to Graham. I told him how hard it was on me too, but that I should have acted better and that I was going to do my best tomorrow to be the mama he deserves.  After that, we cuddled while I sang him a song and he drank his milk. At the end of the song, I asked if he was ready to lay down and he was. I laid him down and tucked him in and told him how much I loved him.

“Nigh nigh.”

And just like that, in the way only a child can muster, all was forgiven and he was fine. He went to sleep without a fuss. While Mr. Blue was surely able to go in a comfort him, that wasn’t what he needed. He needed reconciliation with me. He needed reassurance that we were okay. He needed to know I still loved him. He needed to hear his mama say she was sorry. My boys aren’t super verbal yet, so I sometimes don’t give them enough credit for what they understand. This interaction very clearly reminded me that not only do they understand more than I think but that kids always, always, always understand the language of respect.

I know I’ll fail a million times in their lifetimes at remembering that children are fully deserving of respect, too, and I hope I’m mom enough to own up to it and say I’m sorry when it happens. I wish I could say that I’m sure this will change everything, but the truth of the matter is I’m sure I have a lot of parenting failures coming up in the next few weeks as we transition. My only hope is that I can be self-aware enough to recognize those failures and use them as opportunities to teach my boys that everyone makes mistakes but that your real character is shown in how you redeem your failure and restore your relationships.

This mama has a lot she’s sorry for, but tonight, I think we ended on a win.

If you’re working through the transition to a new sibling, here’s another great Janet Lansbury piece on Helping Kids Adjust to Life with a New Baby.