Attitude Adjustment
August 27, 2009 SugarSpawn
I hesitated on posting this, mostly because I have a hard time admitting when I’m screwing up.
My children are somewhat spoiled. I’ve spent the last (almost) 2 years overcompensating the 2 moves, the building of the house and all the stress involved with that. I’ve coddled their little asses to the point where I found myself giving in more than I was standing my ground. Guess who has been walked all over in the last month or so?
That’s right. MOI.
With Dylan, it’s pretty easy. He is 10 and old enough to remember that when mom shoots him The Look, he’d better comply or risk losing a privilege or end up in bed early.
With Thomas, it has gotten out of control. No matter how many times I remind him, he interrupts me when I’m on the phone, carries out elaborate meltdowns worthy of an Academy Award and he pretty much has the run of the house.
It’s not cool. It scares me that if it continues, we will end up with an out-of-control teenager eventually.
But it’s totally MY FAULT.
When we were selling the old house, I stressed out every time we had a showing. The kids could barely play without me freaking on them about keeping the house clean in case the phone rang. It’s like we lived in a museum for 13 months. Then in the crapartment, I had the stresses of constant sickness due to mold and cigarette smoke, (eventually moving both boys into Dylan’s room because Thomas’ room was unlivable,) the delay in the building of the new house by 2-3 months, inconsiderate neighbours, etc. I overcompensated through that time period by buying them 90% of what they asked for.
We’ve been in this house since February and the spoilage hasn’t stopped. Daren has worked out of town a lot and I’ll admit I’m tired and give in more than I should. Want to stay up late? Sure! Pizza for dinner? Okay. A trip to the dollar store? Why not?
Spoiled. Rotten.
To my 5 year old, bedtime seems to be a SURPRISE! every single night.
“Time for pajamas!” = MELTDOWN.
“Brush your teeth please!” = MELTDOWN.
A kiss goodnight and a snuggle = “I’M SCARED TO SLEEP IN MY ROOM,” then MELTDOWN.
I’m sure by now you get the picture. It’s like I suddenly have a kid like those ones at the beginning of the Supernanny show.
The parenting ways we used on Dylan are not working on Thomas. It’s time for Kindergartner Boot Camp.
Today it started.
This morning Thomas pulled beads and necklace materials out that I’d bought for him a couple of days ago at the dollar store. He spilled 68,000 tiny beads in my bathroom and proceeded to melt down for 40 minutes as I tried to get him to clean up his mess. I ended up throwing up my hands, throwing out everything and vacuuming up the beads. Thomas was horrified and upset. I was upset and felt guilty.
When my cousin called early this afternoon, Thomas was taunting Dylan and the dog, and I asked him to be quiet. At 5 years old, any child should know not to interrupt a phone call, and if they must, they ought to know to say excuse me and wait to be heard. That’s how I was raised. It’s good manners. Period.
Thomas soon interrupted my phone call and got another warning. And another. And another.
Finally, I sent him to his room.
2 minutes later he came out asking when his time out would be over.
I sent him back to his room and said I would be there in a minute (thankfully it was only my cousin on the phone.)
He screamed and carried on so much from his room in that minute, I gave up trying to speak to my cousin, got off the phone and had an extremely stern talk with him. I know I scared him with how harsh my voice was but his resolve was also strong. He lipped back to me no less than 8 times, (including reminding me that I’d thrown out his craft stuff and I was mean,) and after each time he lipped back I took something from him that he loved (his dogs, his play guitar, etc). He knew at this point I wasn’t going to give in.
Then came test #2 – I told him to clean his room. He has bins for toys, crafts, and knows his dirty clothes go straight to the laundry room. With much protesting, I got him on the right track to clean his room and left him to do it. He did it with only 2 complaints, knowing he would lose more stuff if he didn’t do it properly. I praised him a lot once it was done and he was super proud of himself.
Both kids knew I was on a bit of a mission at this point and they got almost all the way to bedtime with little prompting from me to stop fighting or start listening or both.
Bedtime was a serious protest from Thomas, including another reminder about how mean I was for throwing his craft stuff away, and about 50 minutes later, he was finally asleep.
Then the phone rang.
Daren’s car broke down on the side of the highway 30 minutes from our house and I had to load up the kids and go get him.
The first thing Thomas said to Daddy? “Mommy threw away my craft stuff and made me clean my room!”
It’s tough being a badass.
I’m just more afraid of 11 years from now, ending up with a kid taller than me, telling me what he’s gonna do.
I remember being scared shitless of my mother and other parental figures. I think that I need to get back to my roots as far as recalling how Granny and Papa were with us: fair but firm. These last few months or so I’ve taken a hard look at how I’m parenting Thomas and I feel like I need a tight grip on the wheel here. The way I parented Dylan at this age is not working for Thomas. Every kid is different, but my boys aren’t the Good Kid and the Bad Kid as some family members have so obviously labeled them, whether they say it out loud or not. Thomas just needs a different approach. He needs more structure, less explaining, more attention and less waffling. I admit, I have waffled in recent months, and more so over the summer as I tried to give them a fun summer and juggle work at the same time. No more waffling, Sugarpants.
Thomas has a way of pushing all of my buttons one minute and tugging on my heartstrings the next.
Today was hard. Tomorrow will be better.
Posted by Karen Sugarpants @ 7:57 pm | 32 Comments
