Thursday, December 4, 2008
That is YOUR kid
We have all done it. Unclaimed our child. Look at your husband as the child lays on the floor screaming before bedtime and declare, "That is your child." When our kids display a behavior that is uniquely your husbands, you unclaim your child. I mean, I never melted at bedtime, I was the perfect child. Whatever. We all do it at one time or another. Being a mother is hard and we love our kids so much, but every now and again we long for escape. Or the ability to be invisible.
I would settle for the ability to be invisible. When you get a call from the principal, "I'm sorry, Kay is not available at this time, please leave a message and when she reappears, she will contact you according to embarrassment her child or children have caused." That would be sweet. Standing in line at the store, your child is screaming for candy, all of sudden, you are invisible, still able to pay and walk out, but no one can look at you. Nice.
I guess my point is that every kid has a bad day and the ability to make bad decisions and we have to face them eventually, we cannot be invisible parents. We need to be seen and make sure our kids know they cannot embarrass us into their will. Somehow, in the last twenty years, we have all missed a step. My mom would never have hesitated to swat our butt in a store if we were misbehaving. Now we all cringe at the thought of someone reporting us to child services. I say, take back the swat. If by some blip in the universe, some nosy busybody calls you in, the cops will probably applaud your behavior. Believe me, I know several police officers that bemoan the fact that kids today have no discipline. Cops know what real abuse looks like, a swat on the butt is not abuse.
I do remember one time when Ty was about two and trying to climb out of the shopping cart while we were in line at the grocery store. I told him to sit down on his bottom or I would spank him. Behind me was an audible gasp. The young lady behind me gave me a look and was appalled. I looked her straight in the eye and told her she could raise her children in her own way, and I would raise mine with discipline and respect. Of course I was shaking in my shoes, but I stuck to my guns.
So, claim your kids, warts and all. Okay, most days, if the school calls you can send your husband in to deal with the vice-principal.
God bless you and yours.