My head is full of gravy
There’s a mariachi band in my sinuses
I don’t like mariachi bands
When I don’t feel well, I can get testy. Shocking, I know.
The Kid is cleaning her room. She’s been at it for 2 days. I’m not exaggerating. Of course, 7/8 of that time has been spent acting out High School Musical and Hairspray. Who wouldn’t? who wants to clean the room when you can host a dance-off in the attic. I finally took the CD player away. We’ve made much more progress since.
I’m not big on issuing ultimatums. I could give you a number of names of people who could vouch for this. It never really works – not as a girlfriend or a friend or a wife or co-worker … and definitely not as a parent. I mean, you may win the battle but the war rages on. And after all, this isn’t a sprint, it’s a marathon. I wonder how many more clichés I can work in here.
Instead, I like to practice natural consequences. I sort of let situations play out and then uphold the natural extension of the decisions that were made. I feel strongly about it since I encounter a shocking number of adults who seem to not understand this basic life principal. So if, for example, a certain 8 year old decides to play instead of cleaning her room, that’s fine. However, when it comes time to do something fun – like go shopping or to the zoo – if the room isn’t clean, well …
It’s hard though. I’d so much rather be out playing today. It’s a decent day. I’d rather be riding bikes or playing on the jungle gym or going on a nature walk. There is a HUGE part of me that is like THIS close to yelling up the stairs, “okay! That’s fine! Let’s get out of here!” There’s a part of me that just wants to let the whole clean your room thing slide… just this once. Even though I know better. Even though it’s been proven to me time and again that she does better with structure and follow through. I just want to play.
But I guess being a good step-mom is the natural consequence of my decision a few years ago to marry The Kid’s dad.
Funny how that works.