Alexis woke up Saturday morning with a raging case of The Stupids.
It was obvious from the moment she first opened her mouth and DEMANDED a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Call me crazy, but I think you should have to have gone more than a year without asking someone to help you wipe your butt before you start trying to make demands of anyone.
From the Shredded Wheat order, it was all downhill. It was like the kid's brain had been invaded by tiny alien teenage hormone monsters who were intent on making her act like a giant butthead. The lines, "I don't have to listen to you," "I don't want to," and "You can't make me," went into frequent rotation.
Which, OMG. OH. EM. GEE.
"You can't make me," is my favorite. When I outweigh you by 100 pounds? I *really * can make you do anything I want to make you do. WATCH ME, CHILD.
I learned a long time ago not to make threats if I wasn't going to cash the check, so it took no time for the kid to have nothing left to do but to stand there and wave her Stupids all over the place. Her Barbies all went up on top of a bookcase, far out of her reach. Her Kindle Fire landed on top of the fridge. Her playroom got locked, all of her toys were taken away, and her markers and crayons went for a hike.
It was then that it dawned on me ... all of that punishment piled up on a platter was much more of a punch to my gut than it was hers. Alexis still had full use of her mouth, so she kept on keeping on. I couldn't shove something shiny in her face and walk away.
I had to actually deal with the consequences of punishment.
A kid who has nothing to do but to stand around and be angry that she's gotten herself into a heap of trouble is the sort of lethal weapon that could be used to end terrorism. That lethal weapon kept blowing up in my face over and over and over and over ...
::sob::
And then came the moment of truth. One of Alexis' most favorite people in the world was celebrating her birthday that evening with a little party at the roller skating rink. I really didn't want to make her ditch the party for a multitude of reasons, but high up on the list was the fact that it would have been punishing her friend just as much as it was punishing Alexis. I'm not really a fan of punishing kids who don't deserve it.
Alexis wanted to go to that party. BAD. I was certain that telling her that if she didn't stop she couldn't go to the party would be just what I needed to regain my reign as Supreme Queen of Keeping the Kid in Line.
Yet, when the threat was thrown out there, she chose to throw a tantrum that would have impressed any teenager.
There was no reason in the world the kid should have been allowed to do anything other than lay in her bed and breathe for the rest of the day. No reason at all. However, the thought of being able to drop the kid off at the party and then escape her for a few hours started to sound entirely too good. It sounded better than chocolate and booze wrapped in cupcakes and Adam Levine.
I took the kid to the birthday party.
Yup, I absolutely wimped out and didn't follow through on the punishment.
BEST. DECISION. EVER.
I left Alexis at the party and went for a little drive. I managed to take care of a few really critical errands all by myself without anyone asking questions or complaining or slowing me down. And when I returned to the roller rink to pick Alexis up at the end of the party, it was like she had overdosed on Anti-Stupids medication.
She wasn't just better, she was downright delightful. And she has been ever since.
Sometimes the really bad parenting moves turn out to be the very best ones.
