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A crying Mikey stomped from the family room to his room, loud enough to make a point without saying a word. Then, judging by the squeak of bed springs I heard from across the house, threw himself on the bed as he yelled, “This is the worst day ever!”
“That’s no one’s fault but your own,” I yelled back.
I sat at my desk and stared at the computer screen. Logged onto Facebook.
As we get deeper into summer, the boys stay up later. They wake up loose and languid; slow to eat, slow to change, slow to get ready. I ask them, remind them, prod them.
Did you brush your teeth?
Go brush your teeth.
Did you brush your teeth?
Time to get ready, we need to leave soon.
Please go get ready. I asked you twice.
Why aren’t you ready?
Are you listening to me?
I’m starting to get frustrated. Go get ready. Now.
And so it goes, ad infinitum.
It was another lazy day, a Friday, where all of us were slower than usual, especially with the news from Colorado coming in. My friend texted me unexpectedly with an invitation to come over and go swimming. A few hours opened up in her schedule and she wanted to take advantage of the free time. I told her I would hurry through my errands and try to make it. I calculated the amount of time it would take for me to make returns, get gas, and drive across town. It would be tight, but if everyone stepped it up we could squeeze in a little swimming.
I asked them for the fourth time that morning to get ready, and before I went to my room to do the same, I warned them.
“It’s time to get ready. I’m serious, guys. Turn off the TV and do it. Last time I’m going to say anything.”
They stood up and walked towards the TV.
I came out 30 minutes later and found them watching TV in their pajamas.
“You guys, I asked you to get ready.”
Mikey turned his head in my direction without removing his eyes from the TV. “Sorry, mom. We forgot.”
That sentence, that flip sentence so short and sweet and full of insouciance moved out of his mouth like a glacier. I could have finished three of my errands in the amount of time it took him to hear me, process what I said, and respond.
“Oh, I imagine you both are going to be even more sorry when I tell you that your dilly-dallying cost you a swimming playdate.” I’ll admit it; I took great satisfaction in delivering that prediction.
All of a sudden, the glaciers melted. “Give us a minute, mom! We can do it, promise!”
TV off immediately.
Pajamas flying off their bodies as they ran to their rooms.
Teeth. Hair. Clothes.
I met them in the hallway.
“I’m sorry, but we aren’t going on the playdate. We can’t do our errands and make it on time.”
“We can do the errands another day!”
“Nope. I told you to get ready four times. I won’t have time to do the errands after the playdate and I can’t wait to do them another day.”
But mom!
WHAT?!
Please!
Both of them burst into tears, shocked they weren’t going to make the playdate. I went back to my desk to cool off. Mikey came back out came out and tried again.
“Mom, we’re sorry! This isn’t our fault. If you had told us there was a playdate, we would have listened to you and got ready!”
My eyebrows shot up my forehead and got lost in my hairline.
“Try again,” I said. “That argument isn’t as strong as you think it is.”
(If I had a dime for every time I’ve uttered that sentence as a mother.)
“Mom. Please. We really, really, really want to go.”
Mikey’s eyes are a mercurial grey, but when he cries they are an irresistible aqua. Two big and mesmerizing pools stared back at me. And then there was Nicholas, sad and small behind Mikey. All he wants to do is hang out with the big kids, especially now that he kind-of, almost, sort-of knows how to swim. I opened my mouth to tell them to get their swim towels, never mind, we’ll do errands another day, just don’t look at me like two whipped puppies and then tell me I’m the best mama in the world.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t go on the playdate. I told you guys to get ready four times, and you ignored me.” It broke my heart.
Mikey stomped to his room crying. Nicholas trailed after him.
I sat at my desk and stared at the computer screen. Logged onto Facebook. Looked for the validation I wouldn’t get twenty feet from me. A friend and mom to two teenagers replied almost immediately.
Stick to your guns, sister. My mom told me that the best lessons my kids would learn were from the decisions I made and then secretly wanted to go back on. She was right.
That made me feel better. I took a deep breath, in and out. Maybe I’m not the worst mother ever, I thought. I called the boys to get in the car so we could do finally do those errands. We went swimming at my parent’s house as a family later that night.
On Monday I realized I could no longer put off a trip to the grocery store. I told the boys to turn off the TV and get ready. I only had to tell them twice.
Well done for sticking to your guns – I am not sure that I could have done that. Although, now I’ve read this I will try harder next time.
It was hard, but I’m glad I did it.
You ROCKED that decision!! My mom had 5 kids – and she had a one-time rule. She said it one time, and if we didn’t listen/obey, there were much bigger consequences. Let me just say this, as a 30-year-old adult, I am BEYOND thankful that MY mom stuck to HER guns when I would beg her to change her mind.
I remember, very clearly, one time when she told me before dinner that I had until bedtime to clean up my toys in our den. I completely forgot, and she never said anything. When bedtime came, I saw the pile and panicked, but she informed me that it was too late, I had waited too long and now it was bedtime. Most of the toys didn’t matter to me, but I saw my favorite doll – the one I played with on a daily basis – laying on the floor. “What are you going to do with Charlotte?? Can I at least take HER?” My mother stuck to her guns, the end result being that I looked at “Charlotte” from afar (Mom put her on the top shelf of a bookcase) for a week. It killed me, but I never lost her again due to my lack of listening skills and/or time management. Lesson learned!
It taught me about consequences and helped me to acquire self-discipline, both traits that have served me well in adulthood. The bank will not, in fact, listen to my pleas if I haven’t remembered to pay my mortgage in a couple of months. If I don’t plan ahead, dinner doesn’t make itself and we end up spending money to go out to eat – money that I am trying to save for much larger goals (Europe trip, a swimming pool, investment houses, etc.).
I know that what you did was hard, but someday, your 30 year old boys may be thankful for the lessons that you taught them now. Well done!!
I will never EVER forget the time I left my nail polish out in the kitchen when I was 11 years old. The kitchen counter was my favorite place to paint my nails. My mom told me a few times to put it away, and I didn’t. She told me to put it away or she was going to throw it away, and I didn’t. I forgot, was busy, whatever. I remember clearly not doing it and not having a good reason for not doing it. Anyway, the next day (week? can’t remember) I came back to either use it or put it away, but I couldn’t find it. I asked her where it was, and she said she tossed it. I was furious! I couldn’t believe she did that, and told her she was the meanest mom ever!!!! (Exclamation points to convey tween emotion!!)
I never again left my nail polish out, I can tell you that much.
Being a good mama is not for the faint of heart–especially when you have those faces looking back at you! But your friend is right, some of the most important lessons to learn, must be learned the hard way. And someone’s got to teach us. They don’t call it ‘tough love’ for nothin’ . . .
So, while the boys may not see it now, this was a win for you all! :)
Thanks, Amy. :)
Wow I’m proud of you for sticking to your guns! My mom did something similar once and it was a lesson my sister and I never forgot.
Hah! So did my mom. I talked about it above. It’s been almost 30 years and I still remember everything about that nail polish.
I once had to snatch up my kids and leave a playgroup – my only chance to be with grownups all week – when one of them didn’t listen. The other mothers were aghast that we were leaving just after we’d arrived, but my children knew that certain behaviors were unacceptable and I had to follow through by punishing them when they misbehaved. It was as much a punishment for me as for them, but they realized that I meant what I said and learned that lesson well.
Yup. I left in the middle of Christmas shopping one time (total PIA) because Mikey was 4 and acting like a baboon. It really is as much a punishment for the parents as it is for the kids. That’s what makes it so hard–that, and their little sad faces.
I wish I’d been this kind of tough when my kids were younger. My (now teenage) kids are generally wonderful. In spite of me, they have somehow learned when they absolutely need to move (get out of danger, do that school project, call me to let me know where they are). But when it comes to the piddly daily stuff, I’m still telling them 4 times. I hate it. Causes more bickering/distress than it needs to. Wish I’d grown a backbone on this one back when it might have been as simple as canceling a playdate.
Thanks for the perspective, Rita. I know you don’t like the bickering, but your experience gives me the strength to keep being “The General,” as my normally very lax mom likes to call me. She spoils them rotten.
I learned this early on as a mother. My husband is not so good at this. My kids know, though, that what I say goes. It goes for the good and the bad. If I say we are going to do something or get something, I will never go back on that. If I say there is a punishment, the kids know I won’t give in, so they don’t even try to guilt me out of it. Basically, after all these years I have my kids trained to listen to me the first time because THEY KNOW…
That’s great, Heather. You are showing your kids that you are consistent, reliable, and to be trusted. SO awesome.
Sticking to my guns is something I need to do more often.
I don’t do it all the time. (Note, I let them ignore me four times while I read the news on CO.) I should, and will continue to try.
Well done following through. It is something I firmly believe in, something that leads to success as an adult – without having a momma there to remind you to get work done, completed, and finished in a timely matter. These little rules, they are helping to build strong character.
I had a friend just comment on my FB post (she was on vacation last week) and she said the same thing.
Bless your heart – your description of those sad faces and teary eyes had ME in tears. I love “that argument isn’t as strong as you think it is” because it puts it on the child to think about it and figure out what the issue is. Good job! :)
Thanks, Susan. My mom would have been all over me to let them go swimming! ;)
Mine too, I cannot BELIEVE how much my mother spoils my kids; stuff she would never, ever, think about doing for us (or letting us do) she doesn’t even blink about for them. “Would you like a third cookie? Here you go! Oh, you’re going home to eat dinner in 30 minutes, let me give you graham crackers, craisins, and milk for the ride home.” I’m wondering what happened to my mother, when she got abducted by aliens and replaced. ;-)
My mom is ridiculous when it comes to the boys. Both my parents are. They get whatever they want, whenever they want. I was really getting made for a while there, but my husband explained that it’s what grandparents do. Having never been around my own, I had no idea the same hyper-disciplinarians from my childhood could be such suckers!
Thank you for sharing this. I let myself give in too easily even when I know I should stand my ground. Thanks for the encouragement!
Thanks, Ellen. Try something small…those teary faces will break your heart like they did mine if you start with something big! Sigh.
On Monday I realized I could no longer put off a trip to the grocery store. I told the boys to turn off the TV and get ready. I only had to tell them twice
My favourite line. Lesson learned kids.
I don’t have kids. I’m only 23 years old. Most people would think I’m naive with raising a child. (what they don’t know is that I know more than most people know my age – my psychology minor does me wonders) But rest assurred I can tell you one thing that a lot of parents don’t do that THEY SHOULD do, is STICK TO THEIR GUNS. So bravo for doing it (I can only IMAGINE how hard it is — those teary eyes, ohh how easy it is to mend them).
On a more funny note .. I do this with the teenagers I manage at my work.
They’re not supposed to leave their coupons out for anyone to just grab, and the other day one of the boys had left about $90 worth of coupons laying on the counter when he went on break. So I took them and put them in the office. He didn’t even notice when he came back — it wasn’t until hours later when he was cashing up and the supervisor told him “go to your till to find coupons”. He was shaking, and panicking that he lost all those coupons! (At my work, all coupons are considered to be cash value — so he would of been missing $90 in “cash” essentially) He said “NEVER AGAIN!” about leaving them out. Haha.
Yes, the tears are the worst! :) I can just imagine that poor teenager, btw. You know that feeling where you KNOW you just really screwed up and you get all hot and short of breath? Oof. He must have been covered in a cold sweat!
Way to go, Jules!
I still remember the most enormous punishment I ever had, and while I spent a good few months being bitter (I was a teenager) and furious, I always look back and feel grateful that my parents stepped in. That’s the job, right?
Yep. And now I’m using my nail polish story as a lesson! My boys can’t believe my mom would be so mean, since they know her as the big push over. Hah! If only they knew.
I’m very hesitant to link to one of my own (ancient) blog posts, but this so brought it to mind!
http://www.two-muses.com/arch/2006_05.html#000682
It’s one of the stories my Mum held over MY head while i was growing up! :-)
I LOVED it! Thank you so much for sharing. You’re a wonderful writer, too. :)
Oh, I suspect my husband will have a hard time with this in the future. And, I admit, I might, too, especially to give up a swimming playdate! Sigh. I better get used to the idea now.
It isn’t fun, but I’m hoping it pays off. That, or they make enough money as adults to pay for therapy.
Good for you. I win some, loose some. It is so hard to stick to your guns, today I had a wailing two year old dying for his “pa (pacifier)” in the car, but I did and five minutes later you never would have known he had been crying. (We’re paci-weaning, if you can’t tell; not fun.)
I lucked out with the pacifier weaning. They never really gave me much fuss. With Mikey, I just had to be logical about it. His last pacifier was broken and couldn’t be fixed. Then I showed it to him as proof. That’s all his little analytical mind needed. Nicholas wasn’t so left-brained. We just kind of took it away, and he accepted it. Typical younger brother. ;)
Lucky! Our daughter wasn’t nearly attached to hers so it wasn’t that big a deal with her. But my two kiddos couldn’t. be. more. different! Sophia’s eager to please, while Jonathan has a huge stubborn streak. We never really went through a hard discipline stage with her, but Jonathan’s another story; I’m having to learn a whole new bag of tricks. I love how mine are just a step behind yours (you’re the same age as my older brother). Sophia’s starting Kindergarten in a month and Jonathan’s two.
There is a parenting book – Love and Logic something or other – that is based on what you did and the fact that these teachable moments when they are young children are so much more powerful then having to teach them these lesson when the stakes are highers as teens or young adults.
Go you!
Props to you!
I ignored my Dad’s directive to bring the trash cans back up the driveway when I was in high school. I remember- I was supposed to bring them up on Thursday. Instead, I let them sit for two days, figuring he would eventually do it for me. When I went to find my Dad Friday night at the football game to ask him about going out with my friends, he said no- I needed to go home and bring the trash cans back up the driveway.
I have never forgotten that. Love and Logic, indeed. It was a good lesson.
This is my life. Day in and Day out between my two boys. I hate feeling like I’m being too harsh and I want to go back on a decision but I try to stick to my guns probably more because I’m stubborn like that but also because I believe that it’s important to set boundaries for our kids. My husband definitely has a harder time so I end up being bad cop more often than not. That’s the part that I don’t like – not being strict but having to play bad cop.
Stay strong, sister! Just a couple of weeks ago, I handed down the warning of a punishment that I did not want to carry through…and of course I had to do just that. I actually had to pull my husband into a panicky conference (well, he wasn’t panicky at all) to have him bolster me enough to bring down the hammer. Felt like an idiot, but whatever. And it totally paid off the next time when I said to the lad, “Care for a repeat?” (It involved going to bed while the sun was still shining and missing his fave show. He did not care for a repeat…this time.)
Hi Jules,
I absolutely love your blog and the way you write. My little man is 4 and I am going to have to stop caving and start fighting those battles. I dread the day but know that this will make him a better person. Keep this in mind, what pains us as parents will only make them stronger.
This scene sounds achingly close to my summer – and I have handed out some punishments and felt terrible about them later. I found this post thanks to Christine’s Friday roundup. Truth, sister!
Good for you, Jules.
85% of the lessons I learned, from my parents, were doled out the hard way. But they were the most effective and ironically, handled the same way with my own children.
Great post, too.
You posted this in July, but I needed to read it today.
Thanks.