A child that needs a whuppin’, that’s what. The other day, I casually asked this child to come here and she said…. with eyes of steel…. “Say please.”
It was a reminder that my nest is not quite empty yet. A shot straight to the heart. A message from above. I need a support group for this.
I’m not often favored with that disconnected feel of a cool head. My mind scrolled through previous parenting missteps, in slow-motion, movie reel style, calm and collected. It told me now was the time to start referring to myself in the third person. I saw it coming at me, as if from a distance: the start of the teen years. Heaven help me.
But this is not my first rodeo. It’s much better to assess the situation and apply a healthy dose of guilt, or even better, approximately 6 years of year-round swimming, like we did her older sister. That is effective parenting and no whuppin’ necessary.
My parenting skill (term loosely applied here) is more like a sliding scale where I calculate damage points along the way. Which chore should be applied to mend The Entitled Child? or The Spoiled Child? or The Willful Child? or The Stubborn Child? all in the hopes that one day they will grow to be The Independent Child with the sense to know the difference?
This child eventually apologized and I realized I’m at the top of my game. There is a glimmer of hope. That budding tool of self-reflection is developing! Until next week, when surely some new set of challenges await us, likely involving long division or relearning to tie shoes.
Piano practice anyone? Because sometimes we dig in, even when we’ve already learned the hard way.
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