The Mean Mom

The Mean Mom.  I wear the title proudly.  Prouder than Superman wears his "S."  I think I may even have a T-shirt made with that on the front.  It didn't happen overnight, but there have been glimmers of it as long as I have been a mom.  My husband and I agreed early on that our daughters wouldn't wear things as toddlers that we would say no to when they were older.  No tops that show your belly, one-piece swimsuits only, no short shorts, and on and on.  So far it has worked.  We have been consistent with our expectations and the girls have made responsible choices.  Our daughters have chosen to wear shorts over their swimsuits because just a swimsuit wasn't enough for their taste.

The Mean Mom doesn't stop at clothing choices.  Television, movies, activities, how they spend their allowance, and now even friends are subject to scrutiny.  We don't usually just say no.  We ask questions and encourage our children to make choices.  Is that (show/movie/activity/friend) building your character?  Are the characters in that show demonstrating the values you want to have?  Is this really how you want to spend your money knowing that it will take you time to earn more?  Is that friend encouraging you to make good choices or influencing you to make bad choices?  Is this a place where people will be making choices that you want to make or a place that would be better to avoid.  I am happy to say that most of the time, our girls make choices that we are happy with.  Sometimes, we discuss their choices and guide them to a better choice.  This often happens with activities they share with friends.  Occasionally, we let them go down a wrong path and experience the consequences.  Once when we were driving, the girls didn't want to drink the water we had in the car.  Instead they bought sodas at the gas station.  Later, we stopped for ice cream and the girls didn't have money to buy any.  Cruel?  Not really.  Did they drink the free water next time?  Yes, and they had money for ice cream at the end of the trip.  Lesson learned.  You must live within a budget and that means making choices.  I didn't care if they used their money to buy the soda or the ice cream, I just don't want them blindly spending money as if there is no limit.

I recently overheard my oldest daughter telling the younger two that I'm not really a mean mommy.  I love them and I'm teaching them to make good choices.  She also said, "the neighbor's mom is nice, but those girls don't make very good choices because she lets them do things they shouldn't do."  Occasionally, my daughter even tells me that she is glad that I take the time to help her make good choices.  Once she asked me to help her find the perfect husband when she is ready to get married.  I think by then she won't need my help as much as she thinks she does now.

**For the record, we have amended the dress code.  Who knew that our 10-year-old would have legs so long that the only thing long enough to be modest would be bermuda shorts?

I Feel An Energy Drain Coming On

My children have learned that when someone has a bad attitude, fights, talks back, etc. then the "energy" is drained from the family. The children have a new way of putting that "energy" back: by doing chores. I placed a jar on the counter and filled it with slips of paper with chores written on them. The chores range from sweeping the floor to straightening the books on the bookshelf. When I feel an "energy drain" coming on, the "drainer" must pull a slip and complete that job to give back the "energy." My middle daughter was so excited about it, she volunteered to pull a slip (clean the kiddie pool). No more blackouts here!

Independence!

My first daughter was a tame child. If you left her somewhere as a baby, she would still be there when you came back. She walked at one year and did not give me many headaches. She did not get into things other than her toys and she was generally happy and content with her situation.
My second daughter was my Tasmanian devil. At eight months she walked. At one year, I found her on the counter reaching for the top of the fridge because she knew candy was there. At nearly five, she has learned to calm herself down so I don't have constant panic attacks. Now, my baby has found her way in the world. Yesterday, I found her standing on the kitchen counter, looking in the cupboard to get graham crackers for a snack. After I asked her to let me know when she wanted a snack, I added Tylenol to my shopping list.