By Ann Brown
I could not remember my age the other day. I was in the middle of a sentence and I wanted to reference how old I am but I just blanked. Later, in the car, I tried to calculate it mathematically (“okay, I was born in 1954, so I was one year old in 1955, and I was two years old in 1956…”) and failed, but that’s a story for a different time.
This story is about the fact that I want to get some things down on paper because my memory is slipping. You know, now that I am, um, er, 57 years old. Or 58. Or 56. Or 73. I have no idea.
I also want to get things down on paper because I have this kickass idea for a parenting flip-book. You know, those books that have each page divided in three sections and you can mix and match, say (in this case), “my child threw a shoe at the kindly old lady when we were at church” or, say, “my child barfed up Count Chocula at the saleslady when we were at Bridgeport Village” and then you can read the other side of the page to find out what to do about it.
I have many other clever ideas. I come up with them during faculty meetings when the topic isn’t ME. I get a lot of time to think. Next time you see me, ask me about my drive-through salad bar idea.
Anyway, so, here are the top, oh, five things I want to immortalize in this article:
- “Everybody has the right to be angry when they don’t get what they want”. I think I have said this in my parenting classes about a bajillion times. I say it in reference to the penchant we parents have for laying down the law to our kids and then, when they understandably react with anger, we then continue to make them “get over it”. Let’s face it, spending the afternoon with a three-year-old who wanted a popsicle and didn’t get one is no day at the beach, but trying to get your kid to be happy about it is like swimming into a rip tide. (I think. I really have no idea about riptides but it seemed a clever analogy.) That said, this does not mean your kid can express his/her unhappiness with your decision by exercising emotional terrorism. Following you around all day long, poking you with an action figure, or disrupting dinner with nonstop whining needs to be addressed, but it’s the behavior that needs to be addressed; this is not the time to yet again tell your kid why s/he should be delighted to not get a popsicle. Personally, if a child wants to hold on to her beef about the stupid popsicle and show me how she feels by, say, quiet, long-suffering sighs every time I walk by her, so be it. Frankly, I’ve held on to more stupid issues with Robin and I’m 57. Or 58. Or 24. I really have no idea. And, let’s face it; you are never going to convince your kid that she should not be upset about it. You might be able to shut her down about it, you might get in some wise words of perspective, but in the end, we all come to closure when we get there. You can say with detached compassion, “I get it that you are angry. I said ‘no popsicles’ and you wanted one.” But it is what you do after you say it that fosters perspective. Which is, go about your business and don’t juice it.
Well, as it turns out, I have already written 661 words (no, wait. 665. No, 666. YIKES. Wait. 670. Whew) and I’ve only made it to point #1. Guess I will tackle another point next time.
One point per piece. That gives me, um, er, three more points to make. Or four. I really have no idea.