following the rules that I myself have made up for my son - part 2

A few weeks ago when we realized that my son was one of the worst behaved kids in his preschool class my husband and I did something I swore we’d never to do – we began to bribe him. But it’s actually worse than that, we began bribing him with food. A year ago I would have considered this really bad parenting (setting him up for very unhealthy perspective of food and all that). Now a little further along the road of parenthood I realize that bribery is sometimes a very good option. For what it’s worth, my son is only too happy to work for food. I often think of getting him a shirt that says as much but I think that might be taken the wrong way, even though it is the absolute truth. So we set a little goal, something like no time outs this week and we’ll take you to TCBY. This usually keeps him right on track but today he informed me that he forgot all about TCBY and did something that landed him in time out. “Well,” I said from the front seat of the car on the ride home, “you’re working on it. We’re all working on something.” And then he asked what I was working on. And I wanted to tell him that it would actually be quicker if I told him the areas of my life that didn’t need improvement but instead I told him that I was working on several things. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that they were all rules that I had made up for him to apply to his own life. And then I realized I would probably have more blog material.

No whining - that is the rule at our house. I deplore whining. It grates on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. We draw a pretty hard line for Seth on this one. Simply put, it is not an acceptable form of expression at our house…change that, it is not an acceptable form of expression at our house – for anyone but me.

I wish somehow I could have learned how not to whine when I was younger. Not that I am complaining, of course, but it’s awfully hard to change that habit after 30+ years. I’m not so much a social grumbler, more like a closet whiner or as I like to think of it, commentator. Mostly my areas of complaint center around myself and the things that impact me - the weather, the house, my son, my health, my horrible rain-soaked vacation. I like to think of my commentary as a sort of constructive verbal analysis that allows me to accept the disappointments of life but really it’s just plain whining. The reality is that I have been blessed with some very good things in my life. The expectation that my life should remain in some state of perpetual happiness is both naïve and ungrateful. I don’t desire my son to walk around with such a sense of entitlement, but unless I make a change, it’s bound to affect him. This is not the legacy I wish to pass on to the next generation.

So I’m working on it.