Mothering advice from an eight-year-old girl

I will disclose up front that my kids are amazing. We are so lucky to have been blessed with such wonderful kids that don't cause a lot of trouble or undue stress. So when we do have what we consider difficult days, we (I can confidently say it's not just me) can fly off the handle.*

[*No children were harmed during my soon-to-be described temper tantrum.]

Yesterday was one such tricky day. The kids let us sleep in, which is normal for a non-workday, but while we were dozing, we could hear them playing up in Max's room. It wasn't a surprise to discover the room was a mess with stuffed animals strewn about along with bakugan toys and other miscellaneous 'crap.' When I walked in to put something away, my foot fell onto a wet spot. I didn't think too much of it as Max hasn't quite figured out that spitting is limited to a sink or outdoors. I began to remind myself to talk to him about this...when my other foot landed on yet another wet spot. This time, the wet spot soaked into my sock. I leaned down to touch the carpet and discovered several wet spots. I asked Max why the carpet was wet. His response (typical for a youngster) was, "I don't know." I repeat the question louder and more distinctly but garnered the same response. Again the intensity of my tone and volume increased to the point that I was yelling, nay, screaming. Eventually, Cate came in. Between the two of them and I screaming for Kyle to come in the room, they admitted they were playing with their Cars car wash (do NOT buy this for your kid!) and got water all. over. the. place.

In addition to patting down the floor with several towels, sorting between wet and dry stuffed animals, removing pink stains and glittery fuzz from the carpet, we discovered a few animals that got hair cuts at the hands of a five-year-old boy wielding kiddie scissors. Ugh!

We got through the rest of the day with the children acting like cherubs, thanks to Grandma and Grandpa coming over for seven hours. But as it came to be bed time, the sassy little personalities returned. I asked Max a couple of times to get his pajamas on and he didn't move away from what he was playing with. That is when Cate, sometimes demonstrating maturity well beyond her years, began to school me:

"You know Mom, maybe if you asked Max in a kind voice and with a smile on your face, Max would do what you asked him to do. Like this--'Max? Would you please go get your pajamas on? It's time for bed.'"

Sure enough, that little rascal got up and got his pajamas on.

So I said, "Wow! You're right, Cate! You're going to be such a great mom someday." She said, "Yeah, I know. Which reminds me, I should go write down that suggestion so I don't forget when I do become a mom someday." And off she scampered to her room to write down Rule #1 on 'How To Be a Good Mom' in her notebook.

I did take the opportunity to ask her, "So Cate, do you think if I use a pleasant voice and put a smile on my face when I ask you to do something, will you do it right away?" She said, "Oh yeah, sure!" I followed up with, "And may I remind you what you told me if you don't do it right away?" She again replied, "Oh yeah, sure!"

My first opportunity to test her came quickly.

This morning, we were back into work week / out-the-door-quick mode. Cate had yet to take her allergy pill. So I told her, "Cate, it's time to take your allergy pill." She grumbled. So I said, "Cate? Remember last night the advice you gave me? I'm talking in a pleasant voice with a smile on my face asking if you would please take your allergy pill. Now would you please take your allergy pill?" She straightened up and took it without further complaint.

And just to be sure, this evening, even when she got particularly grumpy, I was able to pull out the kind voice, a smile on my face and remind her once again of my request, she did what I asked her to do with no additional complaints.

Damn, she's good!

Know thyself

Today one of my fellow SNBC/kickball friends had replied to a general kickball call-out e-mail after which I sent him a one-off message inquiring how he and his "happily-pregnant-with-first-child" wife were doing. He indicated the usual stuff--wife feeling good but getting tired, swelling up in the summer, so he's helping out more, etc...

He then told me they were starting on their daycare search and asked if I had any suggestions.

I let him know how very fortunate we were to have family care for our children and gave him the name of a mutual co-worker who quite recently went through a very thorough daycare selection process and would have a ton of information to share.

In my infinite wisdom though, I thought I should send him some little parental nugget. Instead of giving him suggestions on daycare, I went this route:

So the only advice I have to give is this (and it also applies to raising your
baby and everything else down the road): each person’s opinion is just
that—opinions. Many people will try to influence you with their
perspective of how things should be and that their way is better. You do
what you feel is right for your lifestyle and your child’s needs.

I hit send.

He was kind and replied: Thanks for the advice!

I processed that for a moment, then replied back:

Ooh! And I should also warn you---I am probably the biggest offender of
sharing my opinions or offering unsolicited advice. Just tell me to shove
it anytime and I won’t be offended.

His response: HAHAHAHAHAHA

I think that was his polite way of telling me to shove it...

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One more thing: I will have you all know that the "tell me to shove it" offer is not extended to everyone who reads this (you know who you are!).

:)