Parenting
Parenting is possibly one of the hardest things I have ever done. I want to give my family, (especially my seven year old son, Brandon) everything they ask for; I want them to be happy. Because of that I have made many parenting mistakes. No is not my favorite word. When my son plays me I often cave after a mere 20 minute tantrum.
One of my more memorable capitulations had dire unforeseen consequences for me and Brandon. Now stop. Before you gasp and think of sirens, hospitals, and broken bones, I must tell you that Brandon is merely bald. The only body part damaged was his beautiful, full-bodied, recently styled, blonde hair. He had a neighbor shave it off.
Now to Brandon's credit, he asked me first. And to my credit I said "NO." But like many parents at the end of a long day, I was not up for a full blown battle of wills. So, as I stated before, after a mere 20 minutes, I gave in. Thinking mistakenly that it would be a little off the bottom. Finally with all the wailing and gnashing of teeth, Brandon finally figured out that something was actually wrong and it stopped being funny for him.
Okay, so the second mistake I made was to try and turn a bad situation into a learning experience. I am here to state that I equitably have learned quite a bit. Brandon, not so much.
I started out with, “I guess you are going to have to trust me, when I tell you that it can only end badly.”
To which he countered, “You should have known and stopped me I’m just a kid.” Point taken.
“The next time you want something then you should listen to Momma, understand that NO means NO.”
“I know,” he replied, “Have you seen my hair? I’m BALD.”
And so the evening pasted. We had identified a problem; a solution had to be found. The list of “what to do, what to do” went on into the wee hours of the night. It ran from the practically sane to the ridiculously insane.
“I’ll stay home until it grows out.”
“Why don’t we just put tattoos all over your head, you could be the illustrated boy.”
“I could wear a wig.”
“I’m scared of people laughing at me at school.”
“Momma will shave my head too, then they would laugh at me instead of you.”
“I will go to school with you. I will stay all day if necessary.”
The last one is the one we actually did. I sat in really small chairs, ate in the school cafeteria, listened to “take me home,” a dozen times a hour and finally returned home at 1 for a little quiet time before Brandon came home for the evening.
Ultimately it was not about the hair cut, hair grows back. It’s about living with the choices that we make; when to cave, when to be strong and hold the line in the shifting sand, and when it’s appropriate to shave your head. I know this isn’t the last tantrum, I know that I will make more mistakes. I know I love my son and that being a tougher Mom may not be a bad thing. He might have to live with being safe verses being happy. As for Brandon he is trying to ride my guilt into days off from school. Well, I am being tough. He will go to school. And so will I.
One of my more memorable capitulations had dire unforeseen consequences for me and Brandon. Now stop. Before you gasp and think of sirens, hospitals, and broken bones, I must tell you that Brandon is merely bald. The only body part damaged was his beautiful, full-bodied, recently styled, blonde hair. He had a neighbor shave it off.
Now to Brandon's credit, he asked me first. And to my credit I said "NO." But like many parents at the end of a long day, I was not up for a full blown battle of wills. So, as I stated before, after a mere 20 minutes, I gave in. Thinking mistakenly that it would be a little off the bottom. Finally with all the wailing and gnashing of teeth, Brandon finally figured out that something was actually wrong and it stopped being funny for him.
Okay, so the second mistake I made was to try and turn a bad situation into a learning experience. I am here to state that I equitably have learned quite a bit. Brandon, not so much.
I started out with, “I guess you are going to have to trust me, when I tell you that it can only end badly.”
To which he countered, “You should have known and stopped me I’m just a kid.” Point taken.
“The next time you want something then you should listen to Momma, understand that NO means NO.”
“I know,” he replied, “Have you seen my hair? I’m BALD.”
And so the evening pasted. We had identified a problem; a solution had to be found. The list of “what to do, what to do” went on into the wee hours of the night. It ran from the practically sane to the ridiculously insane.
“I’ll stay home until it grows out.”
“Why don’t we just put tattoos all over your head, you could be the illustrated boy.”
“I could wear a wig.”
“I’m scared of people laughing at me at school.”
“Momma will shave my head too, then they would laugh at me instead of you.”
“I will go to school with you. I will stay all day if necessary.”
The last one is the one we actually did. I sat in really small chairs, ate in the school cafeteria, listened to “take me home,” a dozen times a hour and finally returned home at 1 for a little quiet time before Brandon came home for the evening.
Ultimately it was not about the hair cut, hair grows back. It’s about living with the choices that we make; when to cave, when to be strong and hold the line in the shifting sand, and when it’s appropriate to shave your head. I know this isn’t the last tantrum, I know that I will make more mistakes. I know I love my son and that being a tougher Mom may not be a bad thing. He might have to live with being safe verses being happy. As for Brandon he is trying to ride my guilt into days off from school. Well, I am being tough. He will go to school. And so will I.