It started out with good intentions. On a rainy fall day, I thought it would be fun to bake and decorate sugar cookies with my three-year-old. Sure, they would be a little messy and have lots of rainbow sprinkles, but it would be charming and fun.
I have OCD and Anxiety Disorder.
(And even without those things, general parenting is super freaking hard.)
She's a strong-willed three-year-old.
You can see where this is going.
I really try to cook with her and let her help me with chores, I feel like it's important to let her learn these skills. But she's three, so she does things wrong. Like, a LOT. And she takes forever. Like toddlers do. Right, learning to be a person is hard. I get that. Most of the time I can keep my cool.
Today was NOT one of those days. It started out that way. She wanted to make her own crazy creation, and I let her play around. Then it came to that magical moment I pictured, when we would decorate the lovely, charming little cookies together. We could deliver them to friends, and I could Instagram it.
Of course, all my three year old wanted to do was eat cookies, lick the frosting, and down handfuls of sprinkles. Things were straying from the plan. After she ate a couple cookies and too many sprinkles, it was time for our serious fun decorating. After asking her to stop eating everything over and over, then insisting that she stop or she couldn't help, I started to lose my shit.
She got sick of it, saying "No! No, Mommy! Stop, or you will have a time out!"
I didn't stop. I kept on saying over and over loudly "You don't get to help if you can't listen. Stop eating it all!"
To which she kept saying "Mommy, I said stop or you will have a time out! Stop, stop, stop!"
Switch tactics, then. I lowered my voice and kept saying the same thing, but I still didn't just stop.
She got kicked out of the kitchen, tears streaming down her face, and I stood there decorating cookies alone, which was super depressing.
I started thinking... maybe she wasn't wrong. Here she was, telling me to do exactly what I tell her to do when she loses control: stop talking and take a time out. So I did. I gave us each a break.
While eating cookies by myself, I realized that I was the one who ruined cookie time with expectations that weren't appropriate for a toddler who had a 7:30AM doctor appointment and no nap. I probably couldn't expect a toddler who is learning self-control to stand in front of cookies, frosting, and sprinkles and just decorate. I mean, I was sneaking eating dough, licking the frosting, and had already had a few cookies, too. Could I salvage this? If I really believe that kids learn best by modeling behavior, I should start there. I certainly hadn't listed or respected her.
So, I sat down with her, tears forming in my eyes, and said "baby, I am sorry I yelled at you and didn't listen to you." Yes, she had made my frustrated, and part of me wanted to add "but you...," I stopped myself. I didn't try to justify what I did to make myself feel better.
"Do you forgive me?"
"I forgive you, Mommy."
I asked if she wanted to try decorating cookies again. This resulted in her trying to eat more cookies. I still stood firm to my boundary that she had had enough, but I didn't expect her to perform the way I wanted her to and I didn't lose it, She didn't freaking care about decorating cookies and happily went and played while I finished.
Did my daughter learn how to decorate cookies? No. But maybe she learned how to apologize. Little kids seem amazingly good at forgiveness on their own. What I learned may have been even more important.
Let me tell you, there are few things more humbling than admitting to my own tiny little child that I did something wrong, and admitting to myself that I hurt her feelings. But afterwards, I think both our hearts felt a lot better.
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