“jump! jump! jump!”
“watch me! max!”
they bounce from one bed to the next. learning how to jump and bounce off one another in such a way that one doesn’t go crying to mama.
“i wanna show you a trick.” max says to bella. “close your eyes.”
he runs to the next room, a trick up his shirtless sleeve, no doubt.
they are rough with one another, but i’m learning to stay out of it. i’m learning to not coddle when they get hurt, but to kiss, hug, and send them back on their way to play. i’m learning to let them fight. to let them argue. to even let them take a swing at each other before i step in. we don’t allow hitting in our family, i say. they are learning. i am learning with them.
i used to hit my children; spank, slap, what-ever lighter word you’d like to apply to it. mostly max right after bella was born. no more than any other good mama, much less than what would have me feeling permanently guilty. it was a last resort move on my part, when reason, time out, and separation did not work. it was something i did because i didn’t know how to handle my two year old and take care of [and protect] my newborn. now, i sit on my hands if max angers me. i tell him, “i am getting so angry right now.” it has gotten easier as they have gotten older, as they understand language more.
i have heard moms say quite matter-of-factly, “oh, i believe in spanking.” i feel nothing about this, other than wonder in how this will be carried on in the next generation. wonder in how this will affect the child’s relationship with their parents. i don’t really feel ill towards the momma, though. i understand the normalcy of it. in a lot of loving households, it is a normal last resort. and not only that, i think most of us parents wrestle with how to not hit our children when they are ornery and unruly. for many of us, it is a learn as you go process.
i have seen hitting go to the extreme, i mean, the extreme that is right before one may consider it abuse, but some may view it as such. my niece and nephews cower under the slightest disciplinary gaze from their mama and papa – whether they did wrong or not. i have seen them smacked on their little hand, spanked on their tiny butts, flicked on their small ears, and just as bad… i have seen them scared of their parents. i am witness to this kind of hard-ass parenting at every visit with them. and, i know those children are loved by their mama and papa. but at some point, how much love is felt becomes secondary and seems distorted in the eyes of how the children are treated.
i don’t want my children to fear hal or me {or each other}. i want them to understand that a person can be serious with their requests, even when they don’t resort to violence, bribes, and threats.
i fail at self-control, still, sometimes. just the other day, bella pushed our little dog off the couch. a push that could very well cause permanent damage to our sweet pug. she was nekked, my little girl, running around the house nutty and having fun. i slapped her little butt. not too hard, but hard enough to show her my anger at what she had done. immediately, i knew i had done something that wasn’t necessary. immediately i began to think of other ways in which i could have handled the situation. then i began to act in those other ways. i didn’t continue to punish her by shunning or with attitude. i coddled camus. she coddled camus. i apologized to my two year old for smacking her butt.
“you hurt my butt-butt.” she says to me.
“i know sweetie, i didn’t need to hit you. i am sorry.”
“yeeeah.” she cried. “its okay mommy. i love, looooooove you. i’m sooorrrrrriiieeeee, caaaamuuuuus, for pushing yoooooou.” she felt bad enough for what she had done. when i explained how camus could get hurt being pushed off the couch (something i have explained before, but you know, repetition with kids), she cried and held camus. the wrong i committed against her little butt-butt, against her very sweet being, was immediately fixed. the guilt that i felt was erased the very next moment i chose to do what was right. see, i think guilt is useful in that it is a little nudge in a different direction. if that new direction is chosen, the guilt goes away. if the same path, the same behavior, the same negativity is continued, the guilt lingers and turns into all sorts of uglier acts.
i admire people who don’t even think to hit their children. for they are better parents than i in this area. even going months without an account to speak of, then having one slap come out of me, feels like a mistake. i’m learning. my children are patient and forgiving. as i am with them.
max just built a gun out of blocks and named it, “super lazer 3,000.” he explains, “it can do anything and change into anything!”
we have no toy guns in our house, but that is okay, they boy derives great pleasure in creating his own, which is okay too.
keeping in mind that max could watch t.v. all day if i let him, the time-suck thing gets turned off periodically. this is the other “i’m not the best momma” item on my list. i’m sure someone out there thinks that i let my children watch too much t.v. and sometimes, i do. i most certainly do. sometimes, it is the only respite i can offer myself. the only time i get to write. the only time i get to take a shower, or lay down and rest. i don’t feel guilty about it. and i know i could choose differently.
but right now, as i write, they are helping themselves to an ice popsicle treat from the freezer, painting, entertaining themselves, running around, and making stuff. laughing. happy. interacting and engaging with one another. talking.
“you can eat a paintbrush if you want.” max lets bella know, then his words follow with a song he likes to hum.
i’ve been mulling around in my head a post about lying, and how i handle it when max lies. being four years old brings on so much more awareness. he’s gone from being a complete truth teller, to lying for fear of being punished, to: “i’m going to tell you the truth, mommy, i did it, not Bella. i am so sorry.” and rarely repeating the offense.
life is odd. the adventure is not in what i am doing, but just the fact that i am living.
i’ve asked hal to take the kids to his parent’s house today, so that i can be alone in the house. he’s heading out the door now. the silence is so blissful. while they are gone, i’ll write, rest, do a little cleaning {but not too much}, make a store run for more flour {for more bread making}, and make a tempeh cacciatore for my family’s return. that’s the plan anyway.
i hope that you, too, have a lovely weekend.
