I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not revolutionizing parenting in any way. In fact I consider myself OLD SCHOOL. My parents grew up on spankings and that’s how I was raised too. I can only recall one time I got a spanking. I take that to mean 1. I was either good at not getting caught or 2. when I initiated waterworks out of my eyeballs it was more effective than my brothers lame attempt at not getting caught. He was always in trouble. Always.
Before I had kids Super Nanny came into play. I watched the show all the time amazed at how powerful her quiet voice is. She doesn’t yell, she doesn’t hit, she must be magic right? I wanted that magic.
Having two boys is nothing less than a freaking challenge. They team up, they blame each other and they are two and four. They haven’t even completely figured out how things roll yet, yes, I realize my husband and I are in trouble. Actually we’re probably in T.R.O.U.B.L.E. with a capital T.
We have a penalty box specifically used when the kids get a time out, which on some days is pretty often. They stand in their designated corner thinking about what they did. The timer is set and they wait. I feel lucky that they wait the entire time in the timeout. They didn’t used to. Kicking, screaming, fighting their way out was the norm and we just kept putting them back in until FINALLY they stayed the entire time. Stolen right from the Super Nanny handbooks I got for Christmas one year, we then talk about why they are in the time out (down on their level, of course) and then they give hugs, kisses and are set free.
This is not always how things happen. More often than I’d like to admit there is yelling involved. But I’m getting better at that and so are they. The decibel level in our household has dramatically dropped, not even on the same scale as the house I grew up in. Mostly the yelling has to deal with the picking, or I should say NOT, picking up of the toys in the house. To battle this I have initiated “toy-free” zones in the house. That has made a world of a difference.
Not too long ago we (the kids and I) went to Half Price books. On our journey there we went over the rules: no yelling, no running, no screaming, no whining, no getting anything except why we went there, etc. When we got in there I let them look at the items in the front of the store, which are conveniently placed at child-level and are mostly trinkets that kids want and think they need. Right away one of the rules was borderline being broken. No worries, I would just rush them to the counter where the book I wanted was being held for pickup.
While I was in line at the counter my little one, Lijh, was being an animal! He wasn’t listening and starting to get on my nerves all the while I was trying to talk to the clerk about the book I had on hold. I couldn’t take it any longer. I looked at the clerk with a ‘hold that thought’ look and then I looked at Lijh and asked him what I imagine anyone in my position would ask, ”do you want a beaten?”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the clerks eyes get about the size of pool balls. He looked at his computer and then up at the phone right next to him and I could feel him wonder if he should call Social Services. Luckily in those few seconds he paused during which time Lijh said, “yeah, I do” and he put up his dukes ready to fight. The clerk started cracking up. Phew, bullet wasted.
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It snowed out last week. The first snowstorm of the year is very exciting! (It’s the 150 follow that get annoying.) The fresh white blanket covering the earth makes everything look innocent and crisp. Of course the monsters would want to go out and destroy it!
Last year it was a CHORE getting the kids outside. I watch a little girl during the day and she’s the same age as Bash, four…well last year, they needed help with everything. Three kids, 3 and under getting fully clothed in snow pants, coat, mittens, hats, boots. By the time you get one fully ready and start on the next the first one has to pee or gets hot by the time you get the third one ready you’re ready for a nap and you haven’t even made it outside yet.
This year, though, would be easy. The older kids could get themselves dressed. I would only have to worry about my little guy and he doesn’t have sensitivity issues like Bash.
Ever since Bash was a baby he’s been sensitive to EVERYTHING. He’s sensitive to: water temperature, seat belts, wearing jeans, wearing coats, wearing anything really. Bash has been going commando now for a year. Most of the time he’s in pajama pants only, shirtless. If he does get dressed he will wear clothes only until we get home then it’s naked city and he’s the major. Every once in a while he’ll wear his Batman jeans but only on occasion and he usually expects a special treat.
He went into his bedroom to change into his snow pants, which is not unusual. He came out not loving his new pants since they are a little too big (another sensitivity issue). He had his snow pants on, no shirt, he wasn’t surprised when I told him to go get a shirt, but he did struggle finding one that doesn’t “itch” him. By the time he came out, the little girl was ready, and his brother was a minute away from being ready. Bash wanted me to help him tighten his pants straps, as I was doing this I looked down and he’s nude under his snow pants. Looking back on this, I’m not sure why I’m so surprised by this. I mean the kid hasn’t worn underwear in ages!
I looked at Bash and I told him, what I imagine anyone in my position would tell him. “Bash, if you don’t wear pants under your snow pants, your wiener will get cold, fall off and then you’ll be a girl.” I expected him to FREAK OUT. What little boy wants to be a girl after they’ve had the luxury of standing to pee? But he didn’t. He just looked at me and asked why. After I went through the details of it being winter and COLD and how things can get so cold they get frost bite and have to get cut off or fall off he still didn’t care. In fact the only thing that did happen after that was his whining increased times 100 because everything was itching or too tight. Since he was already bundled and I couldn’t take the whining I put him outside by himself to work it out.
A few minutes later the rest of the troops and I made our way outside. And Bash was still working it out, standing in the falling snow with his coat off, hat off, mittens off and looking like his pants were next. I told him he better get his gear on or it’s inside for him. With my help we got him dressed as the snow fell in his hair and down his back and after he was dressed the freaking out stopped and he actually had fun.
I told my unconventional parenting story at work last week, the day after it happened. Apparently my unconventional parenting stories are not work appropriate. I’m the youngest parent there perhaps they have just seasoned the tantrums and found more efficient ways to deal with them.
Parenting is a journey that doesn’t come with a manual. If it did every model (child) is different anyway; what works for one, is not necessarily going to work for another. You have to work through the kinks together and doing so results in memories. While my ways are a little eccentric they sort of work for my family. The kids are learning to be humans instead of animals and I’m learning how to be a parent instead of a screamer. Judging parenting styles and personal choices isn’t really something you can do since you haven’t walked in either the parent or the child’s shoes.
If there was a test that decided whether you mature enough to have kids, I’m not sure I’d pass. These little miracles were gifted to me and I’m trying my hardest to show them I love them, even if my offbeat ways result in looking like a “bad mommy” to others.