It's funny how we (parents) can almost be sexist when we deal with our kids. I'm not saying we are cognizant of it but we do... well dads, more-so, than the moms :)
Now last year when daddy's little, innocent, precious, can't-do-a-whole-lotta wrong, daughter was a kindergartner and was being the "aggressor" with a few little boys in her class- her daddy almost lost his mind.
Batting her eyes one night at the dinner table, she talked about one of the little boys freely,
"Cameron is so cute! I just love givin' him kisses."
My eyes closed and I swallowed my chicken...forgetting to chew it first. But she didn't know her daddy could be crazy...deranged...pshychotic... when it comes to her and the opposite sex, even at five-years-old.
"Who the heck is Cameron?" his glass hit the table.
I was trying to gulp down some water to help the chunk of chicken get down.
Unaware that her daddy's blood pressure was going up, she continued to bat her eyes and look up. I could almost picture the little cloud over her head, with the two of the little five-year-olds gazing at one another and hearts floating around- until I had to quickly snap out of it.
"Uh, baby girl daddy asked you who Cameron is and why was he kissing you?"
"He's my friend in class. He sits at my table. He's brown and he gots curly hair that-"
"Okay, baby girl, I don't need a detailed description," he finally calmed down. He looks her over and says, "And that skirt you got on may need to be a bit longer."
He'd lost it!
"Uh, Dude, you loved that Laura Ingalls long, skirt when YOU bought it," I raised my brows.
I explained to him that the little boy was a sweet little boy and that he really needed to calm down because our daughter was the one who was smitten. But he was ready to buy a gun.
Then our little four-year-old son and his attractions, actions- whatever you want to call it- gets a different reaction. He gets a little crush on a girl at church and daddy darn nears gives him the "Player of the Year" award.
Oh it's cute and he's teasing the girl's father, "You better get your girl, because Myles is reeling her in."
He smiles at Myles and picks him up and says, "That's daddy's big man!"
Now what is that about?
Adventures of a seemingly dYsFUNctioNALl mom and wife!
Friday, September 28, 2007
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Shoulda Known
Today when we came home from church, Daddy (not mad at him right now), quickly told the kids to clean up.
"Get all of your toys and whatever else belongs to ya and put it up in your room or the playroom- wherever it goes."
I was impressed.
Then he, himself, started washing dishes and picked up his own clothes and hung them up. He actually hung them up and didn't throw them over the closet door. He even cleaned the fish tank. I thought the new little fish would be in there coughing from clouds of dirt before it got cleaned. I told the him and the kids before we got the fish that I could not do it (clean it).
He inspected their rooms and made sure everything was clean.
I did notice that he kept looking at the clock.
After we all finished he sat down and seemed interested in talking and listening. It felt weird.
Then around 3:50 pm he stretched and said he was going to let the kids watch TV in the living room and he would JUST go upstairs in the playroom.
I checked the channels.... Dallas was playing at 4pm. He's getting good. Real good.
"Get all of your toys and whatever else belongs to ya and put it up in your room or the playroom- wherever it goes."
I was impressed.
Then he, himself, started washing dishes and picked up his own clothes and hung them up. He actually hung them up and didn't throw them over the closet door. He even cleaned the fish tank. I thought the new little fish would be in there coughing from clouds of dirt before it got cleaned. I told the him and the kids before we got the fish that I could not do it (clean it).
He inspected their rooms and made sure everything was clean.
I did notice that he kept looking at the clock.
After we all finished he sat down and seemed interested in talking and listening. It felt weird.
Then around 3:50 pm he stretched and said he was going to let the kids watch TV in the living room and he would JUST go upstairs in the playroom.
I checked the channels.... Dallas was playing at 4pm. He's getting good. Real good.
Monday, September 10, 2007
She Just Isn't A Fighter... Right Now
Call me a bad parent but I felt the need to teach my daughter to fight. I know she has to learn as I did when I was younger but I just feel like she is gonna end up taking quite a few Ls (losses) and I can't stand by and let it happen.
She thinks the world is nice and just doesn't realize, yet, that this just isn't Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. He's deceased!
She is missing teeth and thank God it's because of age and they have fallen out and new ones are coming in. Not because of her mouth and they (teeth) have been knocked out.
She and her brother were playing in the play area of McDonald's Friday night. Initially it was just the two of them and my friend's daughter. Then a few others came in to play. And my two usually play well with anyone. Well, I hear another child- looked to be nine or ten years-old- questioning my daughter. Her voice wasn't pleasant. The girl's back was to me.
"Did you just call me a runt?" "What did you call me?" she questioned repeatedly, her voice growing louder each time.
Maurissa never said anything. She just sat at the end of the slide and looked embarrassed, scared, guilty- all of it.
"Maurissa," I called, "what are you doing?"
The girl stood over her, while holding her, I assumed, younger brother.
"Maurissa come here now!"
The girl then walked out and went to her parents.
Well, although I knew she probably was wrong and ran her mouth, I had already started getting defensive. In other words: I knew she was wrong but that little girl's folks didn't want none. My earrings were already off.
I asked her if she called the girl a name and why. She just stood there twirling the edges of her shorts. So I got unsolicited information from her younger brother. Oh, the four-year-old will tell it.
"We were runnin' and playin' and Maurissa called dat wittle white boy a runt, and his sista got mad."
I don't know why but when he said "white" I looked around, hoping no one heard him. But this is how some kids describe people.
"Okay and what were you gonna do?" I asked him. "What were you gonna do if that girl had hit your sister?"
He didn't know what to say.
"I've told yall both that you take up for each other, NO MATTER WHAT!"
I fussed the entire way home.
Once we got home, it still bothered me that she may have gotten her butt kicked. What would have happened if I wasn't there? She had to get a little tougher. She had to be prepared. Was it morally wrong to want her to learn to fight?
So when we got in the door, I started wrestling around with her. She looked confused... reasonably so. I mean I had just fussed her out and now I was laughing with her and trying to play- so she thought. I was trying to see what she had. She played around but she giggle so much that I came to my senses and realized that she was just not a fighter. Or maybe she would protect herself when she needed to and I would just have to live with that.
Or.... I could put her in karate classes.
She thinks the world is nice and just doesn't realize, yet, that this just isn't Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. He's deceased!
She is missing teeth and thank God it's because of age and they have fallen out and new ones are coming in. Not because of her mouth and they (teeth) have been knocked out.
She and her brother were playing in the play area of McDonald's Friday night. Initially it was just the two of them and my friend's daughter. Then a few others came in to play. And my two usually play well with anyone. Well, I hear another child- looked to be nine or ten years-old- questioning my daughter. Her voice wasn't pleasant. The girl's back was to me.
"Did you just call me a runt?" "What did you call me?" she questioned repeatedly, her voice growing louder each time.
Maurissa never said anything. She just sat at the end of the slide and looked embarrassed, scared, guilty- all of it.
"Maurissa," I called, "what are you doing?"
The girl stood over her, while holding her, I assumed, younger brother.
"Maurissa come here now!"
The girl then walked out and went to her parents.
Well, although I knew she probably was wrong and ran her mouth, I had already started getting defensive. In other words: I knew she was wrong but that little girl's folks didn't want none. My earrings were already off.
I asked her if she called the girl a name and why. She just stood there twirling the edges of her shorts. So I got unsolicited information from her younger brother. Oh, the four-year-old will tell it.
"We were runnin' and playin' and Maurissa called dat wittle white boy a runt, and his sista got mad."
I don't know why but when he said "white" I looked around, hoping no one heard him. But this is how some kids describe people.
"Okay and what were you gonna do?" I asked him. "What were you gonna do if that girl had hit your sister?"
He didn't know what to say.
"I've told yall both that you take up for each other, NO MATTER WHAT!"
I fussed the entire way home.
Once we got home, it still bothered me that she may have gotten her butt kicked. What would have happened if I wasn't there? She had to get a little tougher. She had to be prepared. Was it morally wrong to want her to learn to fight?
So when we got in the door, I started wrestling around with her. She looked confused... reasonably so. I mean I had just fussed her out and now I was laughing with her and trying to play- so she thought. I was trying to see what she had. She played around but she giggle so much that I came to my senses and realized that she was just not a fighter. Or maybe she would protect herself when she needed to and I would just have to live with that.
Or.... I could put her in karate classes.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
The Look
My daughter gave me a look the other day. She didn't say anything but I knew what she was thinking. And I didn't like it! It wasn't a look she'd given me before- but a look I'd given my mom years ago. I just couldn't believe I had now gotten the look. How could she?
I'd just given her a spanking. And yes she deserved it. She told a lie. I'd given her a few chances to tell the truth but she chose to stick to her lie. She's an amateur. When I lied back in my youthful days... I was able to tell when my mom probably knew the truth. And if I thought she already knew but was asking me anyway, I was wise enough to go on and tell the truth. Kids really don't think parents were once young. I've tried everything my daughter has and then some... unfortunately.
So she lied and I spanked her and she says, between sobs, "But I thought I wouldn't get a spankin' if I told da troof!"
Was she questioning my parenting?
"That's when I ask you the first time about it. Not the fourth or fifth time."
After the spanking, I made her sit for a few minutes. I walked by her to give her that- I mean business look- and that's when I saw it... the look!
Of course, I caught her off guard. The look that says: Lord please make her fall down the stairs or something. Just hurt her please!! Please!
It almost made me feel a little worried.
I'd just given her a spanking. And yes she deserved it. She told a lie. I'd given her a few chances to tell the truth but she chose to stick to her lie. She's an amateur. When I lied back in my youthful days... I was able to tell when my mom probably knew the truth. And if I thought she already knew but was asking me anyway, I was wise enough to go on and tell the truth. Kids really don't think parents were once young. I've tried everything my daughter has and then some... unfortunately.
So she lied and I spanked her and she says, between sobs, "But I thought I wouldn't get a spankin' if I told da troof!"
Was she questioning my parenting?
"That's when I ask you the first time about it. Not the fourth or fifth time."
After the spanking, I made her sit for a few minutes. I walked by her to give her that- I mean business look- and that's when I saw it... the look!
Of course, I caught her off guard. The look that says: Lord please make her fall down the stairs or something. Just hurt her please!! Please!
It almost made me feel a little worried.
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