WARNING...WARNING...WARNING...
WARNING...WARNING
This is a LONG and somewhat boring post, but one I had to write for posterity. Should you choose not to actually read it, I just ask you to skip to the bottom and follow the link to a great post I found that
EVERY mom should read.
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So, anyone who's ever been pregnant knows that during this "miraculous" time, some things just get pushed aside and even downright neglected--including other children and the discipline of them. No more has this been evident to me than at this time and during this pregnancy. Tonight Mike was away working a viewing, so I was left to my own devices with the kiddos.
Even under normal circumstances (the unpregnant-, fully medicated-type), this is not a fun task for me. By dinnertime, I've lost all patience and it becomes a minute-by-minute endurance test until that magical 8:00 hour.
However, my three-year-old decided that tonight was the night to see just how much she could get away with, resulting in a magical 7:00 hour bedtime for her. What did she do, you ask? After flinging mud at everyone in the backyard, I told her that she was no longer allowed to play outside. She threw a fit, which I expected, then defiantly went right back out the door. I laboriously pulled myself up off the couch and onto wobbly legs, due to some lovely reccurring sciatica, and entered the backyard to physically bring the child into the house. Fortunately for her, she's quick in both body and mind, so she climbed up the slide where she knew I couldn't reach her, mocking me with the glint in her eye and smirk on her face. Knowing she had the upper-hand, I threatened to put her straight to bed if I had to climb the slide to get her, and she reluctantly (and surprisingly) came down. I then carried her into the house, lucky my legs didn't give out on me as she kicked and screamed the whole way in. Did I mention Mike was working a VIEWING next door???
Anyway, I brought her into the house and once again told her that she was done playing outside and had to stay in for the rest of the night. She gets it now, right? She now knows that Mom will actually wobble outside to pick her up and take her back in if she does it again, right? That is, of course, if Mom SEES her...next thing I know the older girls are telling me that Bridget is out throwing mud again. How? I was sitting right here by the door! How did she manage to slip by without me noticing? The little turkey pretended to be going downstairs, when in fact, she went out the back door and into the backyard through the gate that Mike continues to leave unlocked for his own convenience! (But that's another story.) Once again, I waddled outside, somehow managed to wrangle her out of the LittleTykes play cube thingy, and brought her back into the house. This time, I FOLLOWED her downstairs, all the while threatening an early bedtime if it happened again.
After taking up my reserved place back on the couch for all of a minute & a half, I was once again met with the sound of Bridget playing in the backyard. Ahhh....the straw that broke the camel's back. With all the grace of a newborn giraffe, I put it into 2nd gear and "ran" outside to gather her once again. This time I marched her to the bathroom, threw her pajamas at her, and then marched her down to her bedroom. On the way she asked, "Where you taking me, Mommy?" to which I replied, "To bed!" "No, Mommy, please no!" she cried, as I slammed her door shut, then held the doorknob so she couldn't open the door.
I was beginning to feel so victorious! I can outlast her. She'll fall asleep eventually. That'll teach her to disobey...yet again. As the pounding on the door finally stopped, I heard a quiet little voice retreating to her bed say through her sobs, "It's okay, Bridget, don't cry. Be happy!"
Oh, crap. Have I really turned into that mom who sings "Happy Family" every night with her children and husband, but secretly despises most of what she does as a parent? I thankfully happened upon this article as I wallowed in my terrible mothering moment. Not that I thought she didn't need to go to bed, but I realized that her disobedience can be correlated to my inconsistancy in discipline lately, so I'm just as responsible as she is.
Does that mean I get to go to bed early too?
2 comments:
You are so not a bad mom! My almost 3 year old stands in his room as I hold the doorknob and sobs "Im a good boy now, Im a good boy now". And there have been many a night when I have gone in their room and looked at them sleeping so beautifully, then felt like crap because all I did was yell at them all evening! It's all just part of the mothering experience... we can't be perfect everyday! (especially not pregnant!)
I loved this story! You write so well, and it's always fun to hear of your adventures. Just for the record, from all I've read, it sounds like you're actually a great mother.
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