They Keep Coming Back for More...

Look kid, I brought you into this world and so help me I WILL take you out! Okay, that's not my original line, but Bill Cosby really hit the nail on the head. I have the power, not my kids, right? Will someone please tell my kids? They keep testing this notion especially when I'm at the grocery store. With my two kids in tow, it's a struggle keeping to my list, which I had briefed them on prior to walking in, because immediately they announce their ultimatum: either buy them everything they can reach or they will whine and pick a fight with each other until they are eventually strapped back into the car. Or worse, they will ask one million times, "But Moooooom, why can't I have this?"

You may as well call me Ultimatum Mom as I have perfected this technique with each passing year. You WILL stop drinking directly from the honey bear or no TV for a month! You WILL do your homework before you graduate high school. Yes, I've tried reasoning, child psychology of sorts, but they just keep pushing until I am ready to explode. That's when I lay on the big threats. Keep up this awful behavior and I WILL call the Super Nanny! Yes, I purposefully sat my children down to watch a few episodes of Nanny 911 to expose them to what happens to naughty children who don't give their parents the respect that they deserve. It works a charm.

My husband's sage advice? It's like training a dog, he says, as he pats our son on the head. Make them earn every privilege, every sugary treat, anything they have their hearts set on, or they will take a mile for each & every inch you give 'em. I have to admit that he has a point here, but I won't go as far as using a choke chain, as tempting as that may be. When the kid wants to eat a whole bag of Doritos, tell him to first eat an apple. Success! When she wants to watch a two-hour movie past bed time, tell her to practice her piano first. It worked! When they want to skateboard off the porch onto the trampoline and then land on the sidewalk, tell them to wear a helmet first. I guess. Hmmm, better think on that one.

Being a Mom was never supposed to be a power struggle. I had suspected that it would be messy, stinky, and exhausting at times, but not a continuous battle of 'WILLs'. So, every night, before falling into my coma, I go over the day and either hope the kids are young enough to not have it permanently etched in their minds, or sigh with relief that we got through another day fairly intact. I can recount their silly comments, lament how fast they are growing, and vow that tomorrow will be better. And most times, it is!