Back In The Saddle

Well, thanks to the marriage of western medicine and homeopathic witch doctory, I am in the land of the living. My symptoms are 96% gone, but after laying in bed for about two months, I am just a little bit slow moving. That's ok, I'm living life even at the turtle's pace, and feeling pretty proud about it.

Boy, if you don't participate in life, life does not participate in you. I brought nine loads of laundry to the laundromat today. I scrubbed entire microbial ecosystems out of my toilet bowl. I got aggressive with the landlord about the heat that failed for the third time this month, the rain that is dripping through the bathroom ceiling, and the malfunctioning smoke detector. I made an actual meal in my slow cooker and helped out with the paper route. Then the real fun began: PARENTAL DISCIPLINE CRACKDOWN 2010.

My girls have gone bad. There is no way to sugar-coat it. Not criminal mischief, but an exponentially growing number of annoying behaviors that have compounded into two very annoying children. Hitting. Lying. Finger pointing. Mess making. Whining. Bickering and Deliberately Ignoring Instructions. This week, with my renewed vigor, I broke those ponies.

To me, good children (like a good golf swing) are all about follow through. You cannot point out the inappropriateness of a behavior some of the time. You cannot threaten consequences that never actually happen. You cannot forget a promised reward. You have to be on top of things, and frankly, over the past two months, I have earned an F in follow-through. Parenting had been reduced to yelling from my bed,"WHATEVER YOU ARE DOING, QUIT IT!" So, so not cool.

My kids forgot that I was the mother and somehow confused me with "Cruise ship Entertainment Director". My job was to drive to birthday parties, buy treats, host playdates, and fix broken toys. This week I became Mom again, and it was a bit painful. You have to feel sorry for them. My daughter was dropped off from a bowling birthday party not fifteen minutes before she was demanding that I bring her to a sleepover. SAY WHAT, LITTLE GIRL? Nope! Now it is time to clean the litterbox and spray and wipe the kitchen counters! Sleepovers are a once in a while treat, not on-demand! They are probably wishing I'd get pneumonia again.

Once I started to address some issues, a whole truckload of other issues burst forth. Clean your room actually means clean your room lead into don't hit your sister, which rolled into you can't actually stand in front of the tv at the emotional conclusion of a movie I'm watching and talk about nothing to your little girlfriend, which soon was compiled with let's stay together in the department store and not get lost.

I felt like I was in the terrible twos again, only this time I'm the one saying,"No. No. No. No. NO!" I hope I don't sound too strident. We did have some hugs, and some good talks, and some positive rewards. I let them brainstorm solutions, and them pick what they feel will work best. We are going to survive, but they do need to watch out...I am back in the saddle again.