Last
night the children were punished for causing a major ruckus upstairs (crashing, running, and doors slamming noises) when my husband and I were having dinner. I went
upstairs and discussed their selfishness and handed out punishments of no iPad
and no computer. They could play quietly in their rooms and would also lose their
stories. They could not play together.
Within 10 minutes the notes came down the stairs .. pictures of forgiveness, letters of apology, requests from them both to just be together and play quietly.
An hour later we commenced the bedtime rituals sans story telling. After the tooth-brushing my daughter pulls me into her room.
"He was really upset so I stayed in his room to make him feel better" she says.
"That is not what I asked you to do" I say.
"It was more important to make him feel better than to listen to you. I'm sorry. That is my choice and I make the right one. He needs me more than you need me to sit alone and think about selfishness" she says.
She is right. My 7 year old just laid me out.
"You told me to always pick him over everyone else. You said: if he is sad, and I can make it better, I should. You said: it is us against the world."
"Yes. This is what I said. Do you want to tell me what actually happened now?"
By the time we heard the real story of the crashing water bottles, running, and slamming doors we realized that this was a #parentfail.
"He was stung by a wasp today. Then he saw a bee in your room. He got scared because he didn't want to get stung again. He threw a water bottle at it, we ran, we screamed, and I slammed the door to keep the bee out."
I was WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.
Then I went to my son. The 9 year old.
"I wasn't going to get stung again, Mama. Not on my watch" says my son.
"I get it, I am sorry. I was wrong. I will always admit when I am wrong. I am really sorry. Look, it has been 3 years since you were stung. I guess your were due" I say and try to laugh off the sting. He is not really having that.
"Do I have bad luck?" he asks.
"You have Russian luck" shries my daughter from her bedroom.
"What's Russian luck?" asks me son.
"I have no idea. It must be harsh. Russians have a harsh but morbid sense of humor so I would assume their luck must follow the same path" I say.
Within 10 minutes the notes came down the stairs .. pictures of forgiveness, letters of apology, requests from them both to just be together and play quietly.
An hour later we commenced the bedtime rituals sans story telling. After the tooth-brushing my daughter pulls me into her room.
"He was really upset so I stayed in his room to make him feel better" she says.
"That is not what I asked you to do" I say.
"It was more important to make him feel better than to listen to you. I'm sorry. That is my choice and I make the right one. He needs me more than you need me to sit alone and think about selfishness" she says.
She is right. My 7 year old just laid me out.
"You told me to always pick him over everyone else. You said: if he is sad, and I can make it better, I should. You said: it is us against the world."
"Yes. This is what I said. Do you want to tell me what actually happened now?"
By the time we heard the real story of the crashing water bottles, running, and slamming doors we realized that this was a #parentfail.
"He was stung by a wasp today. Then he saw a bee in your room. He got scared because he didn't want to get stung again. He threw a water bottle at it, we ran, we screamed, and I slammed the door to keep the bee out."
I was WRONG. WRONG. WRONG.
Then I went to my son. The 9 year old.
"I wasn't going to get stung again, Mama. Not on my watch" says my son.
"I get it, I am sorry. I was wrong. I will always admit when I am wrong. I am really sorry. Look, it has been 3 years since you were stung. I guess your were due" I say and try to laugh off the sting. He is not really having that.
"Do I have bad luck?" he asks.
"You have Russian luck" shries my daughter from her bedroom.
"What's Russian luck?" asks me son.
"I have no idea. It must be harsh. Russians have a harsh but morbid sense of humor so I would assume their luck must follow the same path" I say.
Looking at me skeptically, "tonight was a good lesson, Mama. This would have made a really funny episode for the first season of my show."
"But, I
look really bad in this episode. I didn't listen enough. We all learned lessons
tonight" I say quietly.
The hugs abound and everyone gets tons of kisses. My daughter runs in and does a "happy dance" to say goodnight to my son. At the end of the dance she hugs and kisses him.
The hugs abound and everyone gets tons of kisses. My daughter runs in and does a "happy dance" to say goodnight to my son. At the end of the dance she hugs and kisses him.
My son says, "We should record her dances for posterity."
"Do
you like when she does this?" I ask.
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