Dear Parents, How did you do it?

This blog goes out to all the parents who have children who are at least 30+ years old. Many of whom are grandparents now. I have a lot of questions to ask you.   

How did you do it?  How did you let us be independent?  How did you not worry (or at least seem not to worry?)  How did you take a step back and let us not only fall, but even fail? 

Wait, I have more. 

Did you know when we were upset? Did you know and just not ask? If so, why didn’t you ask? 

You didn’t get involved in all the drama.  Did you not know or did you know and you just didn’t want to get involved? Did you want us to figure it out on our own? 

I joke with my mom about how I raised myself.  I’m kind of kidding.  

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There were no cell phones.  Did you worry about that?  Were you wondering where we were at, because I’m going to tell you right now, we probably weren’t where we told you we were going.  

I’m not sure of everyone else’s experience, but I didn’t have the amount of conversations with my parents that I do with my children. My parents weren’t all about explaining “their why,” meaning, why they made certain decisions.  Their decisions were final and didn't require an explanation. My poor children have to listen to my why ALL.THE.TIME. I want them to understand my why, my reasoning for why I am making certain decisions. I want them to understand the lessons that I’m trying to teach them. I hardly believe they want to hear it.   

I’m a very different parent than my parents and I’m struggling to figure out if that is a good or bad thing.  Sometimes I wish their generation of parents paid more attention and sometimes I wish our generation could pay less.  

I want to know everything. "Who did you play with today? What did you play? Why didn't they play with you? What did they say? Then what did you say?

Did you not want to know everything? Why not?

Okay, I still have more.  

Were you concerned about our safety?  No seriously, mom and dad, were you concerned when we ran away to the grove of trees behind the house for an entire day and finally came home when we figured no one even realized we were gone....Asking for a friend.  

Were you concerned when we left the house for hours at a time, wandering the dirt roads, fields, haystacks, stick piles, frozen sewer ponds????

I’m guessing you all are going to say NO, am I right?  

So again, how did you do it?  How did you NOT worry AND…(with tail between my legs) would you be willing to teach me? 

I thought that I was better than you at this parenting thing.  I’m not so sure anymore. I’m trying really hard.  Maybe too hard.  

I’m still not done. 

Where did it all change? When did we start worrying? At what point did we, as parents, begin to intervene so intensely?  When did our society become such a scary place to raise children, because if I’m being honest, it really does feel scary.  I fear for my children all the time.  

Did you? 

I’m certain you worried. You had to, right?  How were you able to keep it together?  You didn't seem worried.

What did you worry about, because nowadays, we worry about everything. Social media bullying, “Pill Parties” and sex trafficking.  Not a day goes by that I don’t worry about things like that.

How did you roll with the punches when we did something that disappointed you? How did you not compare me or my siblings to other children the way we do today.  

Please tell me, because I really want to know.  I really want to know because now, the joke is on me.  My kids are not raising themselves, they struggle to tie their own shoes. 

I'm trying to make sense of this.

The only way that I can possibly make sense of this shift is to understand that the parental changes that have been made in the last 30 years haven’t been all bad. In fact, I might even argue that many have actually been really good.  

I mean, this type of worrying has resulted in some positive changes like, I don’t know, car seat laws, perhaps? No more bean bags in the back of the ol’ Chevy Silverado Suburban, otherwise known in my family as, “the Burb.”  

Or perhaps, any other safety measures/parental interventions that were generally ignored 30+ years ago, such as old pickup hoods, used as a sled, attached to a 4-wheeler with a rope, speeding around in dark, snowy conditions.  Yes, that happened and I’ll spare you the gory details.  

The world is a very different place and we as parents are now doing our best to navigate it, but we need your help.   

So my final question….how do we have the best of both worlds? How do we raise children with skills and resilience, but maybe with a little bit more supervision. ;)  I know enough to know that I don’t know it all and I’m ready to learn.  It may have taken me until I am 40 to ask, but mom, I need your help and maybe, I can teach you a thing or two about the benefits of appropriately fitting car seats. 

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Have you ever seen those absolutely adorable videos of children who are caught in a lie? The ones who have chocolate smear all over their face, but deny having eaten any of it, or videos of children who have marker or god forbid, paint, all over their body or maybe even the wall, but deny having used it?  Their big adorable eyes and sweet demeanor melts us as parents and we find their Pinocchio worthy performances as cute and comical.  

The question I propose is…..at what age does lying elicit less hilarity and humor and more concern and consequence? At what age do we stop thinking their dishonesty is a harmless way of avoiding consequence and has actually turned into a harmful inability to accept accountability. Dare I be so bold as to say it is cause for concern at any age? Is that going too far?  Maybe it is, BUT, once you learn something, it’s hard to unlearn it.  And, if you learn that lying works to avoid consequences, you’ll continue to do it until it doesn’t work, right? 

Before you answer that, let’s consider for a moment the world that we live in today. Where lies are as abundant as the autumn harvest.  So abundant, in fact, that we wonder if anyone is ever really telling us the truth.  We live in a world of “catfishing” and “fake news.”  A world where it is assumed that we are provided with misinformation, that is unless we “do our own research,” right? 

In all honesty...we are living in a world where lying is actually more reinforcing than telling the truth, and to reference the wildly overused quote from Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men, we, “can’t handle the truth.”  We literally can’t, especially if it doesn’t match the narrative that we want to believe.  We aren’t looking for truths, per se, we are often looking for the answers we want to hear. 

So, you may be wondering, why do I write about this?  Why do I care? Well, I care because my 7 year old daughter just lied to me.  

I’ll set the scene. 

Me to Daughter: “It’s about time to leave for school.  Have you brushed your teeth yet?” 

Daughter to Me: (Without looking away from TV) “Yes.” 

Me: (Internal dialogue thinking that I never saw my daughter go to the bathroom to brush teeth, so I go to bathroom where toothbrush is still in drawer and is not wet at all from water and/or toothpaste, and realizes daughter is lying to me.) 

Me to Daughter: “Hey, I just want to make sure that you definitely brushed your teeth, right?” 

Daughter to Me: (Still without looking away from TV) “Yes.” 

Me to Daughter: “Okay, I just wanted to make sure, so I’m going to go check the toothbrush in the bathroom and I’m certain that your toothbrush is going to be wet from you having just used it to brush your teeth this morning.” 

Daughter: (Seemingly instant regret as she follows me into the bathroom.) 

Me: (I pull the dry toothbrush out of the drawer and daughter instantly stares at the ground.) 

Me to Daughter: “Do you have anything you’d like to tell me?” 

Daughter to Me: “I, I , I just forgot.”  

Me to Daughter: “Don’t do that, don’t lie to me again.  I need you to tell me the truth.”  

End Scene 

This whole lying debacle resulted in my daughter getting a pretty significant consequence, and rightfully so. I didn’t just ask her once, I didn’t just ask her twice.  In the prophetic words of David Rose, “I asked her thrice.” 

Now, you may think that I am making a mountain out of a molehill.  I mean, it’s only a little white lie, right.  A mere fib, perhaps?  However, too many white lies and my daughter’s teeth will eventually turn yellow. 

In my opinion, (which I know holds zero bearing on anyone else’s, but) I believe we have to address them ALL.  Yes, all of them, and I’d like to go a bit further as to WHY and HOW.  

Here’s Why….

1. Unlearning something that we’ve already learned is very difficult, especially if we’ve learned and been reinforced for doing something for years and years.  

2. Teaching our children to be truthful and transparent in their communication is such a helpful tool for success both personally and professionally.  

3. If we can trust our children and they can trust us, I truly hope that we can reduce the tension that often accompanies the super challenging preteen and teenage years.  

Here’s How….

1. Don’t reward the lie.  When we laugh at it or think it’s funny, we are unknowingly rewarding it.  We are giving them positive attention for a negative behavior.  

2. Reinforce honest communication.  There still may be a consequence to lying, but it will be less if they come clean. 

3. If they don’t come clean, let them know what you know to be true and what you need to do to address the situation. (Ex. I know that you did not brush your teeth, even if you aren’t admitting it.  Your toothbrush is dry and it is still in the drawer. Lying to me means that you will receive (said) consequence.) 

4. Don’t set them up for failure and create scenarios where lying is more reinforcing than being honest.  (Yes, I’m talking about those videos where parents are recording their kids with candy in front of them and ask them not to eat it until the parent comes back. The lucky few who have children that actually listen, great, but most kids are going to eat the candy and then lie about it.) 

5. Practice what you preach.  We greatly minimize the impact that our own behavior has on our children.  If you want them to be honest, be honest with them and with others.  

I recognize that this may seem dramatic and I get it, but, consider where we are as a society and how we got there. It has become too easy to say what people want to hear and not what the actual truth is. Like any behavioral issue, it starts somewhere and these little white lies grow up to be tall tales.  

I once read that the phrase “Liar Liar Pants on Fire,” derived from a story where a young boy stole one of his dad’s cigars and took it to a shed to smoke it.  When his dad smelled the smoke, he went out to the shed to see where the smell was coming from.  The boy quickly attempted to hide the lit cigar in his back pocket and his pants caught on fire, thus the meaning behind the phrase made popular by many children today.  

So, in order to prevent parental “fires” caused by lying, let’s throw some water on all the ways in which we, as parents, stoke the flame.  

Merry Chrexcess

We are all aware of the current COVID pandemic and the new variant strains of Delta and Omicron, BUT, has anyone heard of the most recent epidemic…CHREXCESS.      

No?? Well, that’s probably because I just made it up, BUT it is an epidemic and one that I think we need to talk about.  It’s an epidemic that has the greatest impact on our children, but it does affect adults as well.  It’s an epidemic that attacks the rational part of our brains and affects our ability to understand how excessive Christmas has become.  (What’s a holiday blog without a clever word mashup, right?  Christmas and Excess….Meh, I tried.) 

I don’t want to make light of the current pandemic, but I do want to draw attention to this particular topic.  So, here we are.  T minus X days until Christmas.  How many times have you been asked, “Are you ready?”  Pandemic seriousness aside, it’s kinda funny, actually.  We are asked this looming question, “Are you ready,” as if we are preparing for an apocalypse, which, I guess, if apocalypse is defined as widespread destruction or disaster, I guess Christmas could technically be considered apocalyptic.  

Admittedly though, it is a valid question.  As the mother of three, I’m well aware of all the things that I need to be ready for and getting ready for me means SHOPPING and lots of it.  I don’t particularly like shopping either. I’m a minimalist by nature, so that makes this season of spending and splurge even more difficult. Combine that with worldwide supply chain constraints and shipping delays.  If you can believe it, I started shopping for “the big man” clear back in late September to avoid the last minute, super expensive, rushed shipping situation that I fell victim to last year.  

I shop for “us'' meaning, myself and my husband, and although he is literally the most amazing husband and father ever, he only has to concern himself with buying for one person..me..and I don’t personally like excess, so I usually make it very clear to him if there is something that I absolutely need. In addition, my parents are older and my aunt (although she loves to shop) has a hard time knowing what my kids would want, so I shop for them for my kids as well. Ugh, thank goodness Christmas only comes around once a year.  

You get the point, lots of shopping, and lots of presents for my children.  They know it and they very much look forward to it every year, as all children do, but the question I have is:  How much is too much?  At what point does this go from enjoyable to excessive? 

I had a conversation recently with my mom who is all about Christmas excess.  She’s not satisfied unless there is no sight of the living room floor with literally piles of presents.  Don’t get me wrong, the “reason for the season” is not lost on her, but even she would admit that Christmas isn’t Christmas without all the presents. In our conversation, she asked me why I didn’t want to do a cousins exchange among all the grandkids and why I didn’t want to do an exchange with my siblings and their spouses. I responded by saying, “It’s that many more presents that I have to buy and it’s that many more presents for my kids that they don’t need.”  My response was the same for the siblings and spouses exchange. I don’t want to buy more presents and get more presents that I don’t need. It's time spent, money spent and to me, it’s totally unnecessary. 

I knew she was disappointed.  I felt bad saying “no.” I just feel like it creates this unhealthy, unrealistic sense of entitlement.  I’m not lying when I say that one year, I saw my children, along with my nieces and nephews, open presents and say, “next,” not even acknowledging or appreciating what they had just opened.  I have no other way to describe it other than to say it felt gross.  

Instead of Ho Ho Ho, I’m the one saying No No No and I look like a total Grinch.  

Well, not entirely. I am going to admit that when there aren’t lots of presents under the tree, I also feel like something isn’t right. Maybe part of it is what I’ve been used to.  I feel like we’ve all been so conditioned to expect excess, that when we set some very normal limits, we actually feel guilty.  I feel like I’m not giving my children a memorable Christmas if they aren’t opening an excessive amount of gifts. WHY???  

Believe me, I love the joy of Christmas morning.  I love my children's’ excitement.  I love hearing their happy squeals and their pleas to open their highly anticipated presents, BUT, I also understand that excess isn’t necessarily the way to elicit happy, healthy children. Is there a way to enjoy with limits so as not to foster an environment of entitlement? 

I’ve compiled some ideas from myself and also from friends and family to combat the ChrExcess epidemic.   

1. No new stuff comes in unless some of the old stuff goes out.  We have limited space, so I’ve asked my children to consider what they no longer use to make space for the new. Keeping some important stuff is fine, but I want to be mindful not to foster dependence on too much stuff. 

2. Buy and wrap gifts that your children will use all year round.  This year I bought and wrapped new tennis shoes, socks, underwear, electric toothbrushes, hair brushes and clothes. A big part of the excitement is in the unwrapping, so wrap up those items that you would buy throughout the year anyway. Also consider your children’s hobbies and supplies you would also buy anyway.  For us, that is lots and lots of art supplies.   

3. Ask your children to contribute. This year my children used some of their own money to purchase a present for the  “Giving Tree” at school.  I’m not saying we have a lot, but my children have never NOT had a wonderful (and plentiful) Christmas.  I really want them to consider how they can give to those that are less fortunate rather than solely focusing on themselves and what they are getting. 

4. Let the grandparents spoil them, BUT within reason AND have a conversation with grandparents about what they are giving your children to ensure that it doesn’t contradict any personal/parental boundaries that you have set with your children.  A perfect example from a friend was when a grandparent gave IPads to her children. If your parental boundary has been to limit screen time, you, as a parent, have every right to set that boundary and it needs to be respected.  

5. A friend of mine always gifts her children books and they have made it a tradition to read them together over the holidays.  What an awesome tradition for their family and a great way to encourage literacy and family time.   

6. Another friend talked about the option of “experiences” over “stuff,” so as a family, they are going on a trip to Colorado as part of their children's’ Christmas present.  As part of my children's’ stocking gift, I am planning to do a day visit to BounceU.  It might not be Colorado, but it will still be a fun family experience.   

7. Every Christmas, my mom donates money to a Haitian charity.  This charity is particularly meaningful to her because she spent some time there as a nurse doing hurricane relief.  She donates on behalf of each of her five children and their families and is provided information on how each donation is being utilized.  Before any presents are opened, our new tradition is for each family to read how their donation has helped a family in need. It has become a family favorite and a great way to offer the children a valuable perspective about the privileges that they have.    

I know this might not be the popular opinion and that’s okay.  I also don’t want anyone to worry that my children are only getting underwear this year.  I’m (mostly) confident my children made the nice list this year and (fingers crossed) hoping they will be pleasantly surprised on Christmas morning.  With each Christmas morning and each passing year that I get to be a parent though, I realize the value in being on the nice list all year long and if what I need to do as a parent is to periodically set limits to keep my children’s expectations in check, so be it.  Chrexcess may not officially be an epidemic, but it’s an idea that affects us all.  Let’s do our part to help our children understand their privilege and promote empathy versus entitled expectations and we’ll all enjoy an epidemic free holiday. 

The Last Time

We talk about the number of "firsts" that parents experience, but rarely do we think about "lasts."  Because as parents, there is so much going on that you don't even realize when something is "the last time."  The last time they wear a cute outfit or the last time they use their baby swing.

It is a weird experience to grieve and be relieved all at the same time and yet, this simultaneous but contradictory experience happened to me recently. 

I chose to breastfeed my children. Having made that choice, though, was always a challenge because I knew that I was solely responsible for the nutrition of our babies. Again, something I wanted and chose to do, but at times, yes, I'll admit it, it was a burden.  I was the one to get up in the middle of the night for feedings, I was the one to calm the baby when he/she was crying, I was the one who suffered from sore nipples, engorgement, leaking and worst of all...mastitis, multiple times. 

But, as challenging as breastfeeding was, it was also one of THE most amazing experiences.

I breastfed my first two children for a year.  I felt that at that point, they could probably get just as much nourishment from food and my supply was weaning by that time. 

Our third baby was not always in the "plan," but some of the best plans are meant to be changed.  I told myself that I would breastfeed for a year, just like I had with other two kids.  A year came and went and my supply had not yet diminished, so I figured, I'll just keep doing it for another month.  And then a month went by and he got sick and so he wanted to nurse a little more and I let him.  And then something else would happen, and so I justified nursing him just a little longer and a little longer.  I began to realize that, although he was fine with nursing, I was the one who needed to continue much more than he needed it.  Yeah sure, it was comforting for him, but by the time he was sixteen and seventeen months, my supply was low enough that I was basically just a pacifier. 

It was so hard to say that this is the last time that I will EVER nurse one of my babies. 

This is something that I've dedicated years of my life to.  This is something that I took for granted hundreds of times. 

I finally told myself that at 18 months, I had to call it quits.  It had to be the last time. 

I picked him up and held him close to me and I watched him.  I watched him like I wanted to burn the image of him nursing into my brain.  I wanted to remember exactly what it felt like as if I hadn't done this thousands of times before.  But, this was the last. 

I cried. Oh my gosh, I cried. It was so hard to come to terms with the idea that I would literally never do this again.  Something that I took for granted for years, something that I often resented and now, more than ever, do I want to continue, knowing it isn't what's best.  

I held him close and watched his beautiful eyes and mouth.  My husband came into the room and initially when he saw how intensely I was crying, I think he thought something was wrong with him, but very quickly realized, it was me.  

It's okay to grieve the last time, just as it was okay to resent some of the many times before that.  I need to remind myself that their are many more times of resentment and lasts that I very much look forward to experiencing in the future.   

Life Lessons Learned At The Amusement Park

You wouldn’t really think that an amusement park is the place where you would take home important life lessons.  A souvenir t-shirt maybe, but definitely not life lessons.  

I’ll set the stage for you. Over priced amusement park that in no way includes the cost of any of the many arcade style games.  I told my two children old enough to play the games that I would give them each $10.00 to play the games unbeknownst to me that any one game costs $5.00 to play at one time.  Seriously, what a rip off, but I digress.  

For said $5.00 game, you get three chances to throw a ball into a nearly impossible pit to win either a small, medium or large plush toy that neither of them would ever otherwise want, totally capitalizing on my easily manipulated children.  

By the grace of God, my then 5 year old daughter literally won on her second throw, winning her a plush Mr. Dinkles from the movie Trolls.  She was ecstatic.  

I think my son assumed the game was easy, so his first $5.00 went to the same game in order to get the plush Sonic The Hedgehog.  It was a no go.  I didn’t tell my daughter, but since she won on her first try, I gave my son her remaining $5.00, so he in fact, got three chances, and not just two. 

Life Lesson #1: If you say you are going to give your children a certain amount for each of them, be sure to do that, even if your daughter doesn’t realize she still has $5.00, because she hasn’t stopped hugging Mr. Dinkles since she won it.  Making decisions based on enabling another child does you no favors in the long run.  

My son decided to play a different game in order to win a plush Power Ranger.  It was a baseball throwing game to knock over a clown and again, $5.00 down the drain in less than 10 seconds.  No plush Power Ranger. 

For his third and final $5.00, he went back to the impossible pit, as he “really wanted” the plush Sonic The Hedgehog.  Throws one and two were a miss and on his final throw, the ball landed in between two holes, one a prize hole and one a non-prize hole.  (That sounds really dirty, but I really have no other way to explain it.)  The worker there walked over to it and I really thought that he could sense my parental pain.  I thought for sure he would give the ball a quick tap and into the prize hole it would go. We could finally walk away with that mother f’ing plush Sonic...but no...he picked it up, and gave it back to my son for another throw and of course, it missed.  No plush Sonic The Hedgehog. 

Life Lesson #2: I can honestly admit that I was mad at that worker for not just tapping it in.  How dare he not just give my child what he wants.  But as I’m writing, I’m embarrassed to admit those thoughts.  I can understand now that it is no one else’s responsibility to enable my son’s anxiety at not getting a meaningless plush toy from an arcade game.  Therefore, don’t expect that everyone else needs to be as cautious of your child’s anxiety as you are.  Want to know something else...I thought about getting more money out of the ATM and probably would have if I wasn’t so cheap.  I also (sigh) thought about just buying the damn Sonic and giving it to him so that he wouldn’t feel upset.  I know, I’m not proud, but sometimes you just can’t help wanting to make your child happy, even at the cost of enabling them.  Rest assured, I didn’t do it.  

Oh my gosh, was he pissed.  I felt for him, but very shortly afterward, I also felt annoyed by him.  I mean, for goodness sake, we were at an amusement park with tons of fun rides.  And...might I add...this was a place that I have absolutely no interest in being.  I literally get dizzy swinging on our backyard swing set, let alone riding amusement park rides.  It was hot and at that time, we were wearing masks, which made it extra hot. Plus, we were dragging around our almost two year old that wasn’t having the heat, so needless to say, I wasn’t excited about the crappy arcade loss attitude. 

Life Lesson #3:  That is the thing about being a parent.  It’s not about us.  I have to assume that very few parents actually want to go to amusement parks.  I mean, they are dirty, expensive and I get sick just looking at some of those rides.  But you know what….I absolutely loved it when I was their age.  And...I remember the disappointment of not getting the toy or not getting the treat.  I get it.  So although I don’t want to enable my son’s anxiety or frustration, I also don’t want to ignore it.  

And last but not least….

Life Lesson #4: When you very infrequently visit amusement parks and your son rides the roller coaster five times in a row, don’t then let him then ride the carousel, because when it’s hot and you become dizzy and nauseous, puke fills up in your poor child’s mask, runs down his clothes and gets all over the beautifully decorated carousel horses.  He shut that ride completely down.  

Lessons learned.

Sometimes our kids are jerks and they need to be called out

Now if that blog title didn't suck you in, I don't know what would.  Anyone out there nodding their heads and rolling their eyes in solidarity?  Yep, me too, and why? Because we know it's true..sometimes our kids are jerks and they need to be called out.  

First and foremost, I want to strongly preface that I love my children.  

Second, they are still jerks sometimes.  

Here's my story...

My husband and I were doing our usual morning dance of getting ourselves and our kids ready for the day.  With three kids and the both of us working out of the home, it is an unsexy salsa-esque dance of brewing coffee, getting as much done before the kids get out of bed, fighting my oldest son, who is uncomfortable in literally any pair of pants and combing through my daughter's rat's nest of a head of hair.  My youngest is typically on the verge of choking on too big of bites of anything because he screams if it isn't "big," rather than being cut into normal size bites.  Whatever dude, I'm too tired to argue, I guess we'll take our chances.  

My husband was able to be at home for a bit longer this particular morning as he was headed to an orientation for a new job. My oldest was sitting at the counter, already annoyed that I was making him study for his Social Studies test that he had conveniently forgot about until the morning of.  I was getting him some cereal and had mentioned to him that his dad was starting a new job today.  I commented that I was so proud of dad for getting this new job, when to my absolute disappointment and disgust, my oldest, rolled his eyes, and said, "Who cares, he's just working with chickens."  

To provide a bit of background, my husband just took a position with a chicken distribution center. He's a Network Tech and works within the company farms and facilities. My very minimal understanding of his day to day is that, he fixes stuff so everything will continue to run smoothly.  

When my son made that comment, I couldn't help but glance at my husband to see how he reacted.  I could tell immediately that it hurt him.  How could it not?  His eyes glanced downward and he shortly thereafter walked out of the room.  

The way in which my husband and I show emotion is very different.  

Even though I talk about emotions for my job, sometimes, its really hard for me to reign it in when I'm really upset and this was one of those times.  Once my husband left the room, I lost my shit, I mean composure. With the meanest eyes and a sharp finger pointed in his direction, I said, "What a jerk thing to say. How dare you treat your  dad like that."  I went on to ask if he had any idea how hard we work to provide for him, yada yada yada.  I'm not entirely sure that the message hit home until I told him to consider how he would feel if he was excited about one of his accomplishments and if his dad or I would have said, "Who cares."  

He started to cry.  I wondered if he was crying because he was being yelled at or if he actually felt bad about how he made my husband feel. Seeing your children cry is so hard. I was inclined to tell him that it was okay and that it wasn't a big deal, but I didn't and I'm glad I didn't, because quite honestly, it is a big deal. It's a big deal to hurt another person and our job as parents is to teach our children accountability and when an apology is necessary.  I needed to, in that moment, teach my son that his actions have consequences and the consequence in this situation is a super sad dad who would literally move heaven and earth for his wildly ungrateful child.    

With a slight prompt, my son went to him, hugged him, and said thanks for going to work for him. It was a heavy morning, but a morning in which an important lesson was learned.  You don't just get to be a jerk and get away with it and sometimes getting called out is the best thing and we are all better for it.  

The Saga of the Forgotten Water Bottle

It was a lovely, although somewhat muggy morning, and my kids and I were waiting in the drop off line at the elementary school circle drive.  We happened to find ourselves behind a parked bus, so the kids jumped out of the car and were going to walk up the sidewalk to the entrance to the school.  After just a moment, my son turned around, came back and knocked on the window, motioning for me to roll it down.  I eagerly complied and fully anticipated a super cute, last minute goodbye and an I love you to start out my day.  Instead, as I rolled down the window, he blurted out, “Did you put my water bottle in my bag?” To which I responded, “No.” Seemingly annoyed, he responded by rolling his eyes and said, “Great! You forgot my water bottle,” and he walked away from the window.  

To give you a bit of context, I asked both of my children earlier that morning if they wanted their water bottles in their bags, because in the days preceding, they came home full of water, which indicated to me that they weren’t needing or using it.  I got zero responses from my fully enthralled, TV obsessed kiddos, so I didn’t put the dang water bottles in their bags. End of story. Well, hardly. :) 

I would have loved to have made a parental stand, if you will, right in the midst of the drop off line, but ain’t no parent got time for that, including myself, so tonight, when he’s forgotten all about it, I’ll totally bring it up. I fully anticipate him not remembering the whole debacle, while I, on the other hand, have obviously stewed about it all day.  

Here’s the thing...I didn’t forget his water bottle...and...if he wants a dang water bottle...I don’t know, maybe he should get it for himself.   

I've come to realize that this is both of our faults. 

Here’s the blame that I’m willing to take.  I need to get out of the house in the morning in order to not be late for work, so I, essentially, am much more motivated than any of my three kids to get moving and get out the door.   I do all the things to get three kids and myself ready to go for the day because I don’t want to be late.   I get the backpacks, I make sure the papers are signed and in the backpacks, I make sure the snacks are packed, the “show and tells” are grabbed AND I usually make sure the water bottles are filled and in their bags and today I just didn’t. 

I need to understand as a parent that, if they are used to someone doing something for them, they are certainly going to learn to expect that...and if that parent forgets to do something for them, then they are  justified in their eye rolls and rude comments, right? 

WRONG!!!!! Well, mostly.  

This is where I won’t take all the blame.  I admit that I’ve done too much for them and that is where I need to change, BUT, it is not okay for them to blame me for something that they should be more capable of doing for themselves.   

I can and should start to expect more.  A great goal would be to start expecting that my kids fill and pack their own water bottles.  Another goal would be, instead of me getting into their bags and signing their daily check in papers, maybe I should wait until they get it and come to me to get it signed and put it back in their own bags themselves?!?! What a crazy concept. 

I’d be totally lying if I said that my own personal control issues didn’t affect my struggle with just doing it for them, because if I do it, I know it will get done and I don’t have to worry about it anymore, right?  Well, that might work for me now, but the thing that we, as parents, have to think about is, how will this work for them next year and the year after and when they are in high school and college?  

So what I’m telling myself is…...if I don’t provide opportunities for my kids to do things for themselves, they won’t AND I need to challenge my own control issues and allow them to do it for themselves, so that they can assume responsibility for their own needs and be accountable to themselves when it isn’t done.  No more of the mom blame game.  Win Win

Obviously, easier said than done, but it helps me to understand, from a larger contextual picture, the value in setting these goals AND why some teens and young adults have issues with behavioral accountability.  How are we to expect a younger generation of adults to exhibit accountability if we never expected them to do it as kids? 

Even though my son hardly remembered his rude behavior displayed that morning and it might have been just as easy to go on with the day and forget it ever happened, I owe it to him, to any friend he might have, to any teacher he might have, to any partner he might have one day, to realize the value in accountability, “owning it” and truly learning from it.  

Grab your own dang water bottle, kid.