A Shining Parenting Moment

Or one that I can't believe that I'm even sharing.

I would ask you not to judge, but I know that you are.  And I am judging you for your judgment of me.  So there.

This one is on my little one, Henry.

Let me set up the scene for you.  It is in the morning.  We are running late.  I didn't even need that last sentence.  Mornings are almost always a mad rush, especially when I have to be at school by 7:45 for a meeting.  I have had a meeting every morning this week except for Monday.  Henry has been staying up late whether we put him to bed at a decent hour or not.  He will literally do head stands in the bed if he is not ready to sleep.  So, he gets to stay up until I think he may actually stay slightly still when I put him in bed.

I asked you not to judge.  And if you are at this point, hold on.   It gets much better.

So back to the mornings.  Since Henry has been going to bed later, he sleeps later.  I wake him at the last minute, rush him trough his bowl of cereal, slap on some clothes, and shove him (not literally, people) out the door.

Today, he didn't like the fact that I didn't let him take one of William's Lego toys along for the ride to daycare.  So he voiced his displeasure.

I no like you anymore.  I like Daddy the best.

I don't think I said anything in response.  Or I said something that did not live up to the response he expected so he went a little further:

I gonna punch you in da face.

What the (fill in any four letter word you like.  I probably thought all of them.) ??????

Surely, he didn't say what I thought he said, so I asked him again. And he replied, a little sheepishly

I gonna punch you in da face.

 I did NOT teach him that.  I really didn't know how to react.  I am not a spanker (don't judge, I tell you!)  I have my reasons and they're mine, but I couldn't help but swat that behind.  Through that diaper, though, it didn't have much of an impact (pun intended).  I was reeling for the correct course of action.  Time out?  Time out? Are you kidding me?  But, I really wasn't sure he knew what he was actually saying, just that it was bad.  So, I continued our get-out-the-door-in-the-morning routine while mumbling something about a "consequence" when he got home. As I am doing this, he's saying,

"Sorry, Mom.  I sorry."

You can stuff your sorries in a sack, Mister.

We're home for about 30 minutes when I remember the morning.  I am conflicted about following through with the consequence or all the research I've read that consequences for the very young are meaningless if they are not immediate because children will forget and then be confused when you give them such a delayed consequence.  (Did you get all that?)

So I decide to bring it up to see what he remembers.

Do you remember what you said to me this morning?

William:  I renember, Mom!  I renember what he said!

I am sure you do, but I want to see if Henry does.  Henry, what did you say to Mommy?

William:  He said,

William, I know that you know.  I want to hear from Henry.

Henry:  I said I punch you in da face.

Well, whaddya know?  He remembered.

You know you are going to have to go to time out. (DO NOT JUDGE).

I not punch you in da face.  I say nice things to you.

You still have to have a time out. 

No.  I not want to.

I say nice things.

I love you, Mommy.

I sorry.

You pretty, Mom.

Such a sweet little manipulative face.  This kid has been 3 years old for less than two weeks.

So I pick him up and promptly place him on his time out bench.  I have to admit that a little part of me is swayed by the sweet talk.  And then I hear

You're gonna get it, Mom!  You're gonna get it!

What am I raising??



I just had to know what he thought "punching in the face" meant, so I asked him.

Ummm...it mean bein' not nice?  It mean bein' not good?

Small victory.  This child is not imagining actually thrusting his fist into my face.  And since I can't let anything go, I asked William where he thinks Henry heard such a thing.

I never said it...in front of him.

Well, maybe I did say it in front of him.

0 for 2.

Mother's Day 2013

What better day to share some of the things that make my life as a mother fulfilling?

My husband wanted to have dinner for me.  I opted to have it last night rather than tonight.  (And it was delicious, by the way.  Filets seared on the stove and then cooked in the oven.  Best steak I've ever had).  William wanted to also make me breakfast this morning.  Not just any breakfast.  Pancakes.  We opted for McDonald's rather than make a mess.  I got the gift I asked for--a nice travel coffee mug.  (Those things are pretty high dollar for what they are!). I have just recently become a daily coffee drinker.  I am also one of those rare moms who would prefer something practical.

Anyway, after breakfast and a little lazing, we went to church.  The boys got their Sunday church donut (the McDonald's breakfast was no deterrent) and Henry headed to the nursery.  The non-nursery children had their short sermon, which consisted mostly of watching a short video on motherhood, and were then instructed to hand out carnations to all the ladies in the church, not just their mothers, and then give each recipient a hug.  William wisely gave me my flower first and then gave flowers  to two other women.  It was adorable to see him give them a hug.  The second lady was at the far end of the pew and he and she stretched to pass/receive the flower.  He had to run back to the front of the church, around the front row and all the way to the back again to give her a hug.  Ahh, I just love that kid.  And then he went on to children's church while we enjoyed an extra EXTRA long sermon on families and prayer.  The conclusion was to have all of the children (nursery also) return to the sanctuary so families could pray together.  Now, this church is really small.  Like, the minister can probably make out my eye color from the pulpit and we sit in the next-to-last pew.  I see Henry and walk to the front to walk him back to our pew.  William comes in and sits next to my parents on the other end of the pew. I put Henry on my lap and bow my head.

Henry, pointing to the screen st the front of the church:  MOM, WHAT'S THAT SAY?

Me:  Shh.  It says "The Lord's Prayer".  We're supposed to be praying quietly.

Henry:  WHAT'S THAT SAY???

Me:  Be quiet Henry.  It says to pray with your family.

Henry:  CAN WE GO TO MIMI'S HOUSE LATER?

Me:  Shhhhh.  You're going to Gaga's.

Henry:  I WANNA GO TO MIMI'S HOUSE AND PLAY WIF SYDNEY!

Me:  You can go to Mimi's house after Gaga's.

Henry:  I CAN GO TO MIMI'S HOUSE LATER?

Me:  Yes.  Shhhhh.

Henry:  I WANT SOMEFIN' HUNGRY!

Me:  Shhhh.  Let's say a prayer together.

Henry:  I. WANT.  SOME.  FIN'. HUN. GRY!

I "quietly" lead him to the small area a the back of the church where the donuts are to get him "somefin' hungry."  They have a HUGE, like 6 foot tall painting of Jesus hanging on the wall.  He's holding his hands out, open palmed.  Henry looks up and asks:

What's God doing?

Before I can answer, "Blessing people." or "Welcoming people."  Henry comes up with his own answer:

I fink he's loving all da peoples.

Melt.

My husband took the boys to see his mother while I relaxed at home.  I was ready for them to come home when they did, though.  We'll go see my mom later. Right now, we're all on the couch together hanging out.  No one is fighting.  Life is good!

You're So Funny, You Should Host a Talk Show

Or at least appear on one.

Last night William and I were doing homework together.  One of his tasks was to identify and find the value of a quarter.  As he meticulously wrote 25¢ on the line he commented, "Twenty-five.  That's how old you are!"

I answered, "Not quite."

He guessed, "Twenty-six, twenty-seven?"

"Not exactly.  I'm forty."

"Forty?  You gotta be kidding me!"

"Forty is no joke, kid."

I must've chuckled which gave him the notion that he was hilarious enough for late night talk shows because his follow up was

"I think that I should be on the Tonight Show.  Can you get me on there?"

"Well, it's not that easy.  You have to be invited."

"Well, can't you Facebook them or Twitter them?" (And no, my six year old does not have either. And I barely ever use Twitter myself.  Facebook is a different story, but I digress).

"Umm, it's not that simple.  They have to know of you somehow. Like you have to do something that they hear about and then invite you on."

"Well, why don't you Twit them or Tweet them or something.  I think that people would really like to see me on there.  I would crack them up.  They would think that I'm really funny."

They just might, kid.  They just might.

We're going to hold out for Jimmy Fallon.