The list of what I do wrong as a parent is so long I won't even start in on it, but one thingI have done as a parent that has served me very well over the years: I don't make idle threats. I make sure that whatever consequence I promise for an action I am willing to carry out. Or, as in the recent case of the barefoot children in 42* weather, I assure them that the next time it happens the consequence will be very bad -- so bad I'm still deciding what it will be.
This serves me well because when I tell weepy, whiny child who is too cold/tired/grouchy to get out of bed that they WILL be in the car when it pulls out of the driveway at 8 a.m., with/without breakfast, with/without clothes on -- they're afraid to push me on it for fear I'll physically throw them in the car in their undies and make them go to school.
This week I had to utilize a serious threat such as these -- and my evil-mommy self half-way hoped I would have an opportunity to follow through. As I mentioned earlier, when Troy is out of town, the kids and I have a limited shelf-life of congeniality. If he leaves town during the school day on Monday, by Wednesday afternoon we're all pretty tired of each other. Wednesday afternoon was awful! I did my best to act as a concerned citizen and offer logical solutions when the neighbors of one driveway-chalk-city voted out their mayor and only citizen. I did my best to put out the fires of angry re-count demands.
I wish I remember now what was my breaking/boiling point. I'm pretty sure it had to do with the anger being directed at me when jobs were required before we could leave for our dinner out (we usually have one dinner out when Troy is out of town). A family meeting was called. Those are never good.
Unfortunately for my family -- well, anyone that has to listen to me rant, I guess -- I love words. I love using LOTS of them in heated situations and finding the precise one to convey my meaning. Along with this lingual fascination and skill, I am trained as an educator. All that to say, "Family Meeting" at my house generally means, "Mom has a speech".
And did I ever:
"Here's the deal. Neither of you deserve a dinner out tonight. Neither of you deserve for me to spend any extra money on you when we have perfectly good food in the pantry. But I do. I deserve for someone to say , "Yes, ma'am -- will that be all?" when I tell them what I want. I deserve for someone else to cook for me and bring me my food. And I'm going to get it. But if you two don't put your happy faces on and deal with life a little better, you will find your food in the pantry while I go pick up my dinner and eat it while I'm sitting in the car in the driveway so that I can have a little peace and quiet. Are we clear?"
And I would have -- and felt guilty for about 2.7 seconds.
The evening was most enjoyable from that point on!
