Beating Up 6 Year Olds & Hate Mail
Nobody tells you what you're in for when your pregnant. The only things passed from the lips of other mother is the inaccurate horror stories of labor and delivery. No one dares to tell you, "You see, after birth- you're pretty much shit out of luck. They don't come with an owner's manual and you just got to wing it."
And the first few years go by as uneventful as they can be when compared to other toddlers. Sure there's the ups and downs, the good and bads and the gray area in between. It's all part of this process you just assume is 'part of growing up' and the best you can do is try not getting too hung up the current trend for breast feeding, potty training and anything else some self proclaimed child guru spews from their unlimited fountain of knowledge (which is usually bullshit and within a year you hear or read something that counters the original proclamation.)This is all fair game until the child (or children in my case) goes out into the world and intermingles with other children and develop their own train of thought...
Enter the 5- 6 year old...
A few weeks ago I was yelling at my son for something. I wish I could tell you what exactly, but considering he suffers from this common plague known as masculinity, he finds himself in trouble all the time for not listening. It's something that places him in the center of my target range a good 3-4 times a day; only varying upon how well he wishes to hear what I have to say.
None the less, I yelled at the poor kid. And for for all appearances, he took advantage of his father being home from work and ran to him for some moral support- not thinking that I do not live in a castle sized home and there wasn't even the slightest possibility that my husband did not hear what took place prior. Being a spectator as well as the accused, I had to follow close behind being I too wanted to know how this was going to play out.
Clutched in my husband's arms and crying tears that even a crocodile would not shed, he claims between sobs, "Mommy's mean! She beats up 6 year olds!"
If I wasn't angry before, I was now. How dare this evolving little fruit of my womb run off and rat me out to the alpha male! Quick with my reaction, foregoing any thoughts of psychological damage, the best I could come up with was, "And next year I'm going to start beating up 7 year olds!"
If I had a copy of a the rumored "Children's Manual", I'm sure I would have been told to 'rejoice in my child's fearless motion to express himself' and I should have kept my yap shut and let the little abomination tread all over me.
The problem with that whole idea is that while I do not believe in the old time saying, "Children should be seen and not heard", I am also not a fan of the "Let the kid do whatever-the-fuck he/she wants and grow up into a disrespectful POS." It seems to me that the happy area in between just does not exist anymore. On one hand you have the parents that seem to be raising animals and not kids, because they have embraced the philosophy of self expression too deeply and they let their kids do whatever they want. And on the other hand you have the "Nothing is too good for my children" variety that take a trip back to the old days and nature a little too harshly. You know the type- they use cloth diapers to save the environment, they play Baby Einstein videos 24/7 to enrich the mind and they walk around with their kids in sling strapped to their back like they're carrying a baby knapsack.
Me, I just try to get through each day with a positive outlook and a semi-decent balance of right and wrong. I try to do the right thing by my kids and pray that one day I might see that my efforts paid off when they say to me, "Thanks Mom for teaching me hard work pays off and for not giving in to me all the time."
It's a dream I have... and so I lay the ground rules about cleaning up after yourself, having chores, no more than a few hours of TV or the computer....
Oh wait. I did mention the computer, right?
The other day my kids had no homework and it was a cruddy day out. So I allowed them on the computer while I got some of my work done. They played so nicely, I was able to get the wash done, have dinner started and vacuum all of the floors. So, when dinner came (three hours from when the started playing) I felt it was fair enough that I informed them at the dinner table that they were expected to spend the rest of the evening reading or playing with toys- but no computer. My husband endorsed this concept... a bit stronger than I did, but still he agreed.
My daughter did not take too kindly to the fact we were not allowing her back on the computer and she sulked in the corner for the rest of the evening. Without my knowing, she had sat there making a card for my husband...
Don't any of you reading this start with the "Awe!" crap.
She made her father "Hate Mail". On the cover was a picture of a person with steam rising from their head and a clearly unhappy, mean face. The inside had the demanding words of "I said I want to play on the computer!"; with more angry faces and big eyebrows pointing inward. And on the back, where most companies would place their insignia, my sweet little witch of a daughter made another angry face and wrote "I'm so mad!" underneath.
Lucky for her, my husband has a great sense of humor and he is very good at calming me down or I would have tanned her hide. Apparently he also has a copy of the fictional "Children's Manual"- heck, he might even possess the Holy Grail for all I know.
He sat down and wrote her a letter back. He told her once again, why she was not allowed on the computer and made cheery happy faces and hearts all over the card before giving it to her. While she still was not happy about not being allowed on the computer, all was well being she got her own piece of mail in return.
I still wanted to give her a piece of my mind for having the audacity to even do such a thing- as funny as it might have been. And since then, she sends us Hate Mail whenever things aren't so cool in her six year old little world. I suppose it's just fine with me. It's better than kicking the dog or pushing her twin brother off a chair in a fit of anger...
Or in the year to follow the next, I might have to take beating up 8 year olds as a hobby as well.
And the first few years go by as uneventful as they can be when compared to other toddlers. Sure there's the ups and downs, the good and bads and the gray area in between. It's all part of this process you just assume is 'part of growing up' and the best you can do is try not getting too hung up the current trend for breast feeding, potty training and anything else some self proclaimed child guru spews from their unlimited fountain of knowledge (which is usually bullshit and within a year you hear or read something that counters the original proclamation.)This is all fair game until the child (or children in my case) goes out into the world and intermingles with other children and develop their own train of thought...
Enter the 5- 6 year old...
A few weeks ago I was yelling at my son for something. I wish I could tell you what exactly, but considering he suffers from this common plague known as masculinity, he finds himself in trouble all the time for not listening. It's something that places him in the center of my target range a good 3-4 times a day; only varying upon how well he wishes to hear what I have to say.
None the less, I yelled at the poor kid. And for for all appearances, he took advantage of his father being home from work and ran to him for some moral support- not thinking that I do not live in a castle sized home and there wasn't even the slightest possibility that my husband did not hear what took place prior. Being a spectator as well as the accused, I had to follow close behind being I too wanted to know how this was going to play out.
Clutched in my husband's arms and crying tears that even a crocodile would not shed, he claims between sobs, "Mommy's mean! She beats up 6 year olds!"
If I wasn't angry before, I was now. How dare this evolving little fruit of my womb run off and rat me out to the alpha male! Quick with my reaction, foregoing any thoughts of psychological damage, the best I could come up with was, "And next year I'm going to start beating up 7 year olds!"
If I had a copy of a the rumored "Children's Manual", I'm sure I would have been told to 'rejoice in my child's fearless motion to express himself' and I should have kept my yap shut and let the little abomination tread all over me.
The problem with that whole idea is that while I do not believe in the old time saying, "Children should be seen and not heard", I am also not a fan of the "Let the kid do whatever-the-fuck he/she wants and grow up into a disrespectful POS." It seems to me that the happy area in between just does not exist anymore. On one hand you have the parents that seem to be raising animals and not kids, because they have embraced the philosophy of self expression too deeply and they let their kids do whatever they want. And on the other hand you have the "Nothing is too good for my children" variety that take a trip back to the old days and nature a little too harshly. You know the type- they use cloth diapers to save the environment, they play Baby Einstein videos 24/7 to enrich the mind and they walk around with their kids in sling strapped to their back like they're carrying a baby knapsack.
Me, I just try to get through each day with a positive outlook and a semi-decent balance of right and wrong. I try to do the right thing by my kids and pray that one day I might see that my efforts paid off when they say to me, "Thanks Mom for teaching me hard work pays off and for not giving in to me all the time."
It's a dream I have... and so I lay the ground rules about cleaning up after yourself, having chores, no more than a few hours of TV or the computer....
Oh wait. I did mention the computer, right?
The other day my kids had no homework and it was a cruddy day out. So I allowed them on the computer while I got some of my work done. They played so nicely, I was able to get the wash done, have dinner started and vacuum all of the floors. So, when dinner came (three hours from when the started playing) I felt it was fair enough that I informed them at the dinner table that they were expected to spend the rest of the evening reading or playing with toys- but no computer. My husband endorsed this concept... a bit stronger than I did, but still he agreed.
My daughter did not take too kindly to the fact we were not allowing her back on the computer and she sulked in the corner for the rest of the evening. Without my knowing, she had sat there making a card for my husband...
Don't any of you reading this start with the "Awe!" crap.
She made her father "Hate Mail". On the cover was a picture of a person with steam rising from their head and a clearly unhappy, mean face. The inside had the demanding words of "I said I want to play on the computer!"; with more angry faces and big eyebrows pointing inward. And on the back, where most companies would place their insignia, my sweet little witch of a daughter made another angry face and wrote "I'm so mad!" underneath.
Lucky for her, my husband has a great sense of humor and he is very good at calming me down or I would have tanned her hide. Apparently he also has a copy of the fictional "Children's Manual"- heck, he might even possess the Holy Grail for all I know.
He sat down and wrote her a letter back. He told her once again, why she was not allowed on the computer and made cheery happy faces and hearts all over the card before giving it to her. While she still was not happy about not being allowed on the computer, all was well being she got her own piece of mail in return.
I still wanted to give her a piece of my mind for having the audacity to even do such a thing- as funny as it might have been. And since then, she sends us Hate Mail whenever things aren't so cool in her six year old little world. I suppose it's just fine with me. It's better than kicking the dog or pushing her twin brother off a chair in a fit of anger...
Or in the year to follow the next, I might have to take beating up 8 year olds as a hobby as well.