I’m a firm believer that motherhood requires expertise in multitasking. How else can one get it all done? There’s clothes to wash, meals to prepare, and mountains of errands to run. When you’re not overrun by minutia, you need to find time to raise and nurture the kids.

After experiencing nearly 10 years of motherhood, I felt as though I had a good handle on the multitasking game. One-handed vacuuming with baby on hip while singing the ABCs. Cooking meals and checking emails. Helping with homework and busting suds.

Recently, my multitasking skills were rendered useless. Lil Ma was diagnosed with bronchilitis, and with that came a brief stay in the pediatric ward.  She was all that mattered. I left Hubby to care for our oldest and fired off a half-sensical email to my employer stating I would be out the rest of the week.

Fortunately, Lil Ma came home less than 24 hours after being admitted, but she needs breathing treatments until her lungs are back at full strength. That could be a month from now.

It’s amazing how one rough day threw off our family routine. We didn’t buy groceries. The kitchen was a wreck. Mini Me’s supply of clean clothes rapidly diminished. As an added bonus, Lil Ma no longer tolerated sharing the spotlight with her sister, dishes, laundry, or a mobile device. She wanted playing, holding, and singing. Any combination of those was acceptable, but that was the only multitasking allowed.

Honestly, her request was not unreasonable. I, however, still had other things that needed my attention. A husband. Another kid. A job. A me.

Feelings of failure circled.

I tried to shake them off by reconnecting with my multitasking mojo. I planned new ways to combine tasks. Could I make the bed and clip coupons? Or, could I wash dishes and sort clothes? What could I accomplish in just five minutes? (That’s still a good idea, by the way. Just not right now.) The thought of it made me all the more overwhelmed.

Instead,  I slowed down and focused on one thing at a time. I thought about what reasonably fit into our weeknight evenings. Dinner. Homework. Play. Baths. Bed.

I rejiggered the order of things to eliminate rush. Bath time moved ahead of dinner and homework. That ended the mad dash to the tub and the battle to get the girls in bed at their appointed bedtimes. Plus, it gets done while dinner is in the oven. (Ah, multitasking responsibly!)

I remembered that for two weeks at a time, I’m not the only adult in the house. Hubs can help, I just need to ask.

The girls have my undivided attention while we play pat-a-cake or look at doll fashion. I reserved 30 minutes after their bedtime for general clean up.

The most important thing I’ve done over the last few days is to cut myself some slack. There will always be something else to do, but I don’t need to try to do it all. I’ll pick what’s important, bundle when it makes sense, and get to the rest when I can. And I’m certainly no failure for that.

When Lil Ma is angry, she screams. It’s loud. Actually, it’s louder than loud. Every day, I am amazed by how a person so small can make such a deafening sound.

I thought we had more time before we reached the Terrible Twos, but my little overachiever got there 7 months shy of her second birthday. Now, two months later, her screams of frustration are combined with hits and tossed toys.

A friend suggested that I put her in time out. I laughed. How in the heck would Lil Ma understand that she had to stay in one place for any length of time?

“You’re underestimating her,” my friend said. “She gets more than you think.”

I had given time out a try before my friend mentioned it, but my initial efforts were weak and inconsistent. Whenever a tantrum hit, I dragged her to the designated time-out corner. Two seconds later, she would move and I would give up.

“What about a timer?” my friend asked.

I figured it was worth a shot. So I pulled out an old egg timer and waited for a chance to use it. I didn’t have to wait long. Lil Ma popped me in the face with a Lego after I told her it was time for bed. She then fell backward and started the kick-and-scream routine.

I moved her to the corner and set the timer for 30 seconds.

“No hitting,” I said as I backed way.

Lil Ma stood up, stared at me with her tear-stained face, and took one step forward.

“No,” I said while wagging a finger. She cried louder but took a step back.

Then she tried to move again.

“No.”  I said, more gently this time. “Calm down.”

She stood in place silently and stared at me. We eyed each other cautiously until the timer ran out.

“You can come out now. No hitting.” I said. “Time for bed.”

She smiled and went to put her Legos into a container.

I was stunned. It had to be a fluke. But over the past few days, I’ve seen a big difference in the length of her tantrums. They seem to last for only as long as the timer is set. Today, she calmed down in about 15 seconds.

I don’t know how long this technique will work, but I’m going to stick with it. We’re got a long way to go before the Terrible Twos are history.

How did you survive the Terrible Twos?