SWITCH

Today I developed carpel tunnel syndrome, and it wasn't from my children.

I spent a considerable amount of time today driving around the city from one meeting to the next, all the while flipping through the radio stations trying to find some decent music to keep me company on my various journeys.

I learned a lot of valuable lessons today, besides from the fact that the radio stations are nearly devoid of any worthwhile content.

Now, occasionally you may land on a station with some quirky french music that is somewhat soothing. Perhaps a good classical piece or great beach tune like Bob Marley's 'Everything is going to be alright" that somehow transports you from the slushy, snow covered roads to the beaches of a remote, secluded Island. You're even more lucky if you stumble upon a station playing something like 'The Name Game Song' by Shirley Ellis and then you've miraculously figured out how to do the twist and other intricate moves that would be more appropriate in a pleated, poodle skirt rather than in the confines of your seat belt with winter coat on.

And this is where I developed carpel tunnel. For the entire drive, every time a good song came on I immediately and somewhat instinctively switched the station in hopes of finding something better. My finger was practically glued to the button. Ouch. I did this for the duration of the drive, switching again and again.

"Oh, an oldy and a goody, but maybe there's better."

SWITCH

"Classical! Yes this is the kind of driving music I need, but what if there's some good Jazz on?"

SWITCH

"Okay I found it, a French song, great I have no idea what he's saying and the rhythm is great, but what if there's something else?"

SWITCH

And that was it. I arrived at my destination only to realize that the entire ride there, instead of enjoying the music, I was in search of something better and ended up with nothing to show for it.

Isn't that how things look in our lives sometimes?

We get so caught up in the obsession to find the best, the perfect, the flawless that we sometimes don't allow ourselves to enjoy the present. We are on a relentless pursuit of perfection sometimes that we don't stop to appreciate the fine details in the imperfect now that we're living in. And of course, only in those imperfections do we find true perfection.

So on the way home, I decided to put on a CD so as to limit the decision process and ease my carpel tunnel.

The next dilemma, was which CD to choose out of the 10 CD Disk Changer.

SWITCH!

Yesterday, Noam had a tantrum.

Okay, he's 2 years old, it's aloud right? Well I guess everyone has their ideas of what's the best method for dealing with tantrums. Here's what happened.

"Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine."

I warned him that if he would continue screaming and not sharing we would go home. He would then play nicely and quickly resume his wild behavior.

I realized this was not fair to him. He could not control himself, for whatever reason, and his heart was beating very quickly. I could tell this was the beginning of a melt down.

The next time I heard the word "MINE" I quickly whisked him up and said, "That's it, we're going."

Now this is the part where a very creative writer will go on about the details of what it looked like, sounded like, felt like to get out of the house with Noam screaming and baby Adina looking at me bewildered. Suffice it to say, we got out, less one ear drum perhaps, but we got out the door.

Noam then screamed the entire (3 minutes) home. But this is really not typical for Noam. Usually when he's removed from the situation he just calms down. I couldn't understand what was happening.

The entire (3 minutes that felt like 3 hours) walk home I searched deep within my mind's filing cabinet of techniques and tips I've been given on how to deal with a toddler. I thought of how I would punish him so he would learn from his mistakes. Most of all I felt angry.

I could feel the anger in my chest like a big fireball contained in a tight outer layer that would explode at any moment.

We got home, I had still not said one word, he was screaming. Shut the door, picked up baby Adina and put her to nap in her crib. Walked back, whisked off Noam's jacket, he was still hysterical, threw off his shoes, walked him over to the couch, threw myself down, put him on my lap, put his pacifier in his mouth, smothered his blanky on his face, his head collapsed on my chest, and held him tighter than I probably ever have.

That was it.

He stopped crying. I rocked him gently and held him tightly. He was panting and nestling his face into my neck for extra comfort. But that was it.

He looked up at me with his big, brown, swollen eyes filled with tears and said, "Ima, sing Numi Numi."

Numi Numi is our lullabye, in Hebrew.

Life lesson number 2 right here. Listen with sensitive ears mommy or you might miss it!
I usually would have wanted to yell, scream, punish, get mad at this behavior. Obviously this is not the way to act but these small babies act this way only because they NEED something. They have needs and sometimes we are not patient with them to find out what it is. In this case, Noam was not thriving in the environment he was in. Noam really needs structure, I am assuming most kids do. I wasn't paying attention to that. But the main point really is that I wanted to attack him because I felt his behavior was a direct hit to me! He was doing this to me, my ego was not happy.

I think we always want to be in control of every situation. We don't like the idea that the results don't lie in our hands. The more control we have the more secure we feel but the more we freak out when things don't go our way.

There is a perfect child. I bet you didn't think I would say that. Well there is! But he is the child who has tantrums, or cries, or doesn't share at times. Why is he perfect? He is perfect because he is exactly the child you got from God, in order to fix yourself.

I'm sure we all have times where we look at others lives and think, "oh if only I had her problems, life would be better" or we think, "she doesn't have any problems!".

It's just not true. I don't think we all have 'problems' but we all have challenges or obstacles in life that we need to overcome and we need to realize that they are given to us because ONLY we can deal with them. God gives each one of us the exact tools we need to deal with OUR problems, not our neighbors problems. Which means, in any situation where we feel really stretched, like we want to yell, get mad, run, we have to recognize that we have the tools to USE this obstacle in order to grow from it.

By raising our children we are raising ourselves. If we choose to look at the situation as an opportunity to grow, we only stand to gain.

So there I was, sitting with Noam snuggled up as peacefully as can be in the calm of the day. And then Adina started to cry. Thank God, another opportunity.