I genuinely love being physically affectionate with my kids. . . until I don’t. I have eight kids and my oldest is 16. That’s a lot of years of dealing with kids when they are at their physically neediest and there are times I’m just a little bit tired of being touched. It’s hard to explain to someone who hasn’t parented a toddler just how constant the touching is. I can’t remember what it’s like to brush my teeth without someone dropping the bathroom stool on my toe so they can brush RIGHT. NEXT. TO. ME. Cooking dinner is an obstacle course of stepping over and around the little person who is pretend cooking with me/next to me/on me/behind me. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve eaten a meal with a small person on my lap and I’ve dropped spaghetti into toddler hair more times than I can count. This is draining on a level it’s difficult to define. I live in a world where there is no such thing as “personal space” and I’ve lived there for the last 15 years or so. (full disclosure– I’m typing this with a toddler on my lap)
I can’t change the reality of parenting a toddler. They need my physical presence. They need comfort and someone to meet their needs. I am their primary caregiver and they aren’t doing anything wrong by being needy. So I have to figure out a way to keep my sanity intact when my body is screaming for me to go lock myself in the bathroom (which I still do on occasion).
I’ve come to realize that some of the issue for me is my own self-talk. My inner monologue is about how this will never end, I just need some space and something about the unfairness of motherhood (“I bet my husband is sitting in a whole office chair BY HIMSELF right now.”). So I’ve had to intentionally go a different route to help me stay more present with my kids and diffuse some of my own frustration. There are two specific times when I’ve found a little messaging goes a long way.
When my kids are hurt (visualize me putting air quotes around the word hurt and saying it with a little sarcasm), I sometimes struggle to give them the comfort they need. And this is your reminder that toddlers get “hurt” about 5,732 times per day. The injuries are often invisible, which doesn’t make them any less dramatic. And I currently have two toddlers. So when there is an injury only Mom can fix (but Mom would really like to JUST FINISH HER MEAL IN PEACE ONE TIME IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK EVERYBODY), I will get down on the floor and stroke their little backs while I tell myself, “Rat nurturing behaviors. Rat nurturing behaviors.” Totally normal, right? We’re all doing this? No? Let me explain.
I read a study forever ago about how rat personalities were impacted by how the rat mothers treated them. Rat mothers that engaged in nurturing behaviors like licking them, patting them, grooming them, nursing them had more calm rat kids. Rat mothers that ignored their babies had babies that were more anxious even into adulthood. (I’ve written about this before) I don’t know why that study impacted me so much, but it fundamentally changed the way I parented, or at least my self-talk around parenting. I want my kids to be calm. I don’t want them to struggle with anxiety. I need to be calm with them and I need to do physical nurturing behaviors.
The rat mothers aren’t having long talks with their babies. They aren’t saying the specific right words that teach them resiliency. Sometimes I just don’t have it in me to do those things either, as important as I think they are. Sometimes all I have in me during a very touched-out day is to remind myself to be a nurturing mother rat. I can pat. I can hug. I can kiss. I can take a minute to stop and physically reassure this child because it’s not just about what’s happening in the moment, it’s about helping them to grow up feeling the assurance that they are loved and nurtured.
So if you’re feeling like you are going to lose your mind if your kid falls off the couch one more time and you want to yell about how ridiculous this is instead of comforting them, maybe just tell yourself, “Rat nurturing behaviors. Rat nurturing behaviors.” and pat their little back like the good Mama Rat you are.
I have also found that by the end of the day I am DONE DONE DONE. I do not want to read one more story, I do not want to sing one more song and quite frankly, I don’t want to give you another hug. But I’ve come to see for my toddler that the desire for hugs really isn’t endless. She might actually just need one more hug. . . and one more kiss on this cheek and one more kiss on that other cheek and maybe we need to rub noses together. But you know how long that actually takes in real time? About 30 seconds. That’s the self-talk I use when I’m ready to run from the room. I just tell myself, “This is 30 seconds.”
In my mind, this will never end. I will be stuck in this endless loop until The Lord returns. I will be wearing adult diapers, turning up my hearing aids, drinking my Ensure and I will STILL BE doing this tuck-in routine. I struggle with thinking the way it is right now is the way it will always be (which is ridiculous because I have teenagers that think it’s “awkward” if I come in their room). Reminding myself, “This is 30 seconds” is extremely helpful in letting me be present in the moment. This won’t last forever. These kisses might add 30 seconds to bedtime, but I have 30 seconds to spare. Honestly, they might be the best 30 seconds of my day when I allow myself to enjoy them and not just count them down so I can get out of the room and do something “important”.
Maybe you love those last kisses before bed and you don’t have to remind yourself what rats do in order to physically comfort your kids. I love that about you. But for those of us who find ourselves getting short and sharp with our kids in the moments they are asking for our physical comfort, we need a proactive plan. I hope this is helpful for you in either coopting my language or as a prompt to come up with language of your own. And also, every once in a while, it’s okay to eat your dinner while locked in your bathroom.