“The evil mastermind” is what my son calls his youngest sister, Rebecca (age 3). You would never think it to look at her. She is just as cute as can be, with this high-pitched little voice. She has big brown eyes and dark golden curls. She is fond of running around the house (and even on occasion outside) completely naked. And yet…
As toddlers and preschoolers, my first three kids had about the average level of naughtiness. Then came Leah, my fourth child. She was so mischievous that we used to call her “Leah the Leprechaun.” As a 2 and 3 year old, she would tell me outright that she wasn’t ever going to listen to me. I remember saying to her one time when she was really misbehaving, “Don’t you want to be good?” Her answer was, “No, I want to be naughty.” It was hard for me to keep a straight face after that comeback, and of course that was part of her whole strategy to get away with it, whatever “it” was.
Rebecca makes Leah look like an angel. It’s not that she doesn’t understand the rules; she just doesn’t think they apply to her.
I’m sure it has something to do with her being “the baby” in a big family. She is so irresistibly adorable that the other kids become enablers and apologizers for her. They plot how to help her avoid whatever consequence she has drawn upon herself. They will sneak her out of her room or smuggle dessert to her, even giving up some of their own so she doesn’t have to go without. But I also think it has something to do with the immense amount of charm nature has somehow crammed into her tiny body (a trait she shares with her brother).
Like the others, I find it hard to resist her charisma, but I work hard at it. What kind of egomaniac could she turn into if she finds she can control her entire family from the age of 3? So I’m standing strong. But all I have to say is “Look out, world! Here comes Rebecca!”
Friday, October 16, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
It Came From Middle School
Not long ago, my home was invaded by a strange creature who looks exactly like my son. But it’s not my sweet little boy who loves to cuddle and says I’m the best mom in the world. This monster even acts like my son sometimes, and then without warning and at the slightest provocation, he transforms into a snarling, violent and irrational beast.
It’s a, it’s a…(scream) preteen!!!!
Since he is my oldest, this is my first experience in dealing with the primordial hormone soup that is pre-adolescence, so it is extra scary. Even more so because I have four more behind him who will each be going through puberty eventually, and with quite a bit of overlap.
Middle school is not like elementary school. When he went to elementary school, I knew all of his friends, and their parents and dropped him off at their houses, or had his friends over here. Now, kids are given a lot more freedom to “hang out” with each other, unsupervised. Who knows who is there or what kind of kids they are. Are they disrespectful, delinquent little cretins or nice kids? Let’s face it; good judgment is not at its peak between the ages of 11 and 14.
First and foremost, I love my son, so I laid down the law.
1. I love you no matter what, even if you are spewing the equivalent of verbal vomit from your mouth.
2. If you want to hang out with your friends, no problem, as long as I have met them and have their first and last names, cell phone numbers and home numbers, Social Security numbers, addresses and a photo ID. (Just kidding about the last three.)
3. The hormones are not your fault, but you are responsible for controlling your behavior anyway.
4.Disrespect will result in unpleasant consequences.
5. I still love you.
I have friends whose children are teenage boys and young adult men, and they are still alive, so I have hope that it is possible to get through the Land of Adolescence in one piece. The thing that makes it so hard is the love. If I didn’t care so much, I could just ignore the outbursts and shift my focus on the kids who aren’t screaming at me or throwing things. But I refuse to give up and let my son spin out of control. Someday, God willing, he will grow out of this stage and become the amazing young man I know he can be.
It’s a, it’s a…(scream) preteen!!!!
Since he is my oldest, this is my first experience in dealing with the primordial hormone soup that is pre-adolescence, so it is extra scary. Even more so because I have four more behind him who will each be going through puberty eventually, and with quite a bit of overlap.
Middle school is not like elementary school. When he went to elementary school, I knew all of his friends, and their parents and dropped him off at their houses, or had his friends over here. Now, kids are given a lot more freedom to “hang out” with each other, unsupervised. Who knows who is there or what kind of kids they are. Are they disrespectful, delinquent little cretins or nice kids? Let’s face it; good judgment is not at its peak between the ages of 11 and 14.
First and foremost, I love my son, so I laid down the law.
1. I love you no matter what, even if you are spewing the equivalent of verbal vomit from your mouth.
2. If you want to hang out with your friends, no problem, as long as I have met them and have their first and last names, cell phone numbers and home numbers, Social Security numbers, addresses and a photo ID. (Just kidding about the last three.)
3. The hormones are not your fault, but you are responsible for controlling your behavior anyway.
4.Disrespect will result in unpleasant consequences.
5. I still love you.
I have friends whose children are teenage boys and young adult men, and they are still alive, so I have hope that it is possible to get through the Land of Adolescence in one piece. The thing that makes it so hard is the love. If I didn’t care so much, I could just ignore the outbursts and shift my focus on the kids who aren’t screaming at me or throwing things. But I refuse to give up and let my son spin out of control. Someday, God willing, he will grow out of this stage and become the amazing young man I know he can be.
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