Looking Forward to a Better Tomorrow
Dear Alexis,
Today was . . . well, actually, this whole week has fallen under the category "Challenging." Today was most certainly the most intense day of them all, but they've all been rough.
For your father and me, that is. Not for you. You've been perfectly happy as you've doled out the . . . uh . . . challenges.
I'm not sure what crawled into your brain over the past weekend, but there seems to be some sort of alien worm inside your head, giving you ideas. It seems to have given you the mistaken impression that we negotiate in this house. We. do. not.
If I ask you to eat your dinner, the correct answer is to open your mouth and shove some food in it.
If I ask you to go upstairs and get your pajamas on, I expect to see your little behind in motion, headed towards your room.
If I tell you (I don't "ask" when it's a safety thing, little miss) to stop balancing and swinging from the arms of the two couches, I expect your feet to hit the ground immediately.
If I tell you to pick up your toys before someone trips and gets hurt, I want to see a flurry of action, with toys finding their way into their storage boxes.
I do not want to hear, "But I'm just . . ." I don't want to be met with silence. I don't want to hear about how you'll do it, but only after you've done fourteen eleventy bazillion other things. I don't want to have my requests met with half-assed attempts at negotiation.
I do not negotiate with terrorists, not even tiny ones. Period.
Miss Alexis, you've already lost the privilege to do pretty much every fun thing we had planned for this weekend. I really hope you evict that evil worm from your brain tonight because when you don't have fun? I don't have fun. So, how about we try inflating my ego and then making me think I'm imagining things? How about you try answering with, "Yes, ma'am" a few times tomorrow? It's a sure way to make me think I've completely lost my mind. And isn't that the goal? I mean, isn't that why you Tiny Terrorists do what you do?
Oh, and don't even think about coming to me in 30-some years and complaining about how your sweet little daughter thinks everything is game for negotiation. I'll tell you that paybacks are a bitch and and that no, you can't have an apple instead of eating whatever I made you for dinner.
Much love always and forever,
Your Mother AKA She Who Would Have Been a Lawyer if She Had Wanted to Argue All Day Long
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Reader Comments (11)
Totally sympathize .... there are some HARD days in this life of parenting spirited kids. Next week will be better, and.... who knows what the week after that will hold. Seriously - such a cliche, but... pick your battles. I have 4, so... absolutely HAVE to do that everyday or I would lose it, right? Have a good weekend :-)!
Ahh yes....the joys of four year olds. Girl four year olds at that.
These are many of the same battles/issues I have with Morgan. With the exception of safety issues, I pick my battles. You don't want to eat what was placed in front of you for dinner? That's fine. Just remember that an hour later when you want a snack and I put your reheated dinner plate in front of you. You don't want to get jammies on? Guess what? I don't give a crap---just remember that when you climb into bed in a tank top and capris. Don't want to brush your teeth? Okay....now? You've won ME doing it.
Little terrorists. I'm in no mood ;)
It's my turn to say this but. You. Are. Screwed. :) You will have this lecture down pat after you use it eleventy billion times over the course of her childhood. Oh you will insert other things instead, but it's a never ending battle.
I know I'm not a ray of sunshine here, but know that she is doing exactly what she is supposed to be doing, which is to try stuff out and see if it works. She is learning from the world around her, and she is checking out her boundaries.
Good for you for nipping it all in the bud immediately, and showing her where you draw the line. You are a rock star mama.
Consistency is key. It is a key that I keep misplacing, unfortunately, much as I do my own keys. When my first grader was 5, she started telling me I was mean whenever I corrected her or would not let her do something. After a couple of days of this, I decided to send her to her room every time she said this, which was about 10 times the first day, five the second, and in three days, she was done. Fast-forward many months, and she does it sometimes and I do nothing most the time. I kind of suck at this.
I have little doubt your plan will work. I am convinced if I would try something like that, I would be happy with the end result; getting there is the problem. Good luck and I hope your weekend ends up A-OK!
We don't have "But I'm just." We have "I jus' wanna." which OMG STAB ME IN THE EYE. I actually told her the other day that if she said "I just wanna" one more time I was going to make her listen to "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" untul she lost her mind and went clucking like a chicken with the gypsies.
Um yeah, not a stellar parenting moment.
All to say, I feel you. Not literally, although you DO have a nice rack.
Ahem.
What IS it about this age? I swear we are going through the same thing at our house. This morning Mr. Daddy said "Punkin, when we tell you to do something we expect you to do it, IMMEDIATELY!!" Sigh. I'm so weary.
You have my utmost sympathy!
Maybe it's the way the stars are aligned. Cause we are having some major issues in our house along similar lines over the last week. URG!
I keep looking for a website or a blog that tells me that four is better than three...but so far, I haven't found one. We are having similar issues in our house. Sometimes I feel like I'm on repeat, and I HATE that.
Gracie is ALL ABOUT the negotiating. In fact, I'm thinking of loaning her to the FBI. The other side will give up in minutes. Wish I could say this phase will pass quickly - but I'd be lying.
Oh, yes. The negotiating...it sucks. I have declared our house to be the Dictatorship Of Mommy, where they do not get to question me. The next thing out of their mouths is "But..."
Let me just say that I spent my day with a 5 year old terrorist who was pushing every boundary in the book and Dad was playing pushover. I'm pretty sure ripping out my own kidney with a spork would have been less painful.
Obviously we are not the only ones who experience this but sometimes, you just wish they'd knock it off - no matter how normal it is.