As Nita was getting Josephine ready for bed and I was tickling Connor in to breathlessness last night, he managed to get out our little safe phrase. “I need a break.” While he was recovering, he said, “Daddy I love you.” I said, “Connor I love you too, you know that right?” He said, “Yes!” I pushed, “How do you know Daddy loves you?” He said, “Because you are my friend.”
I know this is a relatively short lived phase of absolute adoration and dependence and of course I am REALLY enjoying it, but I also know it is my responsibility to see the bigger picture. Nita and I had an argument/discussion the other day about consistency and discipline. We’re also interviewing new nanny candidates. (I know, but Amy is moving to Dallas, I swear we’re not running them off. In fact I think it’s the opposite. We find the best women with tons of upside and potential, and eventually someone else sees what we saw in these lovely and talented ladies and they move on to bigger and better things. Some marry millionaires). In any case the question of discipline came up.
As we discussed our philosophy on positive reinforcement I also had to bring up that in the end, we are the adults and it is our moral obligation to both our children and society to not raise bratty kids. This brought up the discussion in question when I told Nita to stop letting Connor play with my tools. Because: a) My time is so limited now, when I want squeeze in a quick project I want to know where all my stuff is and not waste 20 minutes looking for something that is no longer where I left it; b) Connor has a zillion toys, a huge yard, and hundreds of books; c) As Mick Jagger said, “you can’t always get what you want; and d) he needs to learn that there are some things that adults do, say, and drink that are not appropriate for children. I told her it takes no effort to be friends with a toddler, you give them everything they want. The great parents are the ones that have children to say yes sir and no ma’am. They call you by your last name. (I still call my parent’s friends by their last names and I’m 42). They come when you call them, not when they are done playing. Nita is a little less consistent on this.
We have our different styles for sure, and I’m not saying I’m always right or perfect. For example, when Nita is juggling both kids and trying to do a third task, she’s more inclined to let Connor just hold or play with something that has piqued his curiosity to placate him for the moment to finish her task. I will happily put on a video and give him a snack or some milk and go about my task. She thinks he’s watching too much T.V. and I don’t want him playing with my tools, salt, pepper, scissors, staplers, etc. We’re getting there.
The point is, I have an easier time telling Connor “no” and I’m more inclined to spend more time attempting to help him understand that what he’s doing is not appropriate. And I know how important it is to teach these life lessons early, build a strong foundation, and help build character. Connor knows when he’s done something wrong and when I reinforce it he sometimes gets upset. I try to help him understand what he did was wrong and why. And he definitely knows my “having fun” voice and my “right now mister” voice. He does not get confused with me. And he still smiles and runs into my arms every time I come home from work or from a trip. Discipline does not mean you don’t love your children, it means the opposite. I firmly believe that children are looking for boundaries and once established are more comfortable. They know the line, check to see if it’s moved occasionally, but in the end like knowing where the edge of the earth is. I’ve had my share of dumb ass moments through the years and thank God there were no camera phones and red light cameras back in the day, but all in all I was a pretty good kid. I never missed a curfew and never got arrested… okay, never indicted. ;) But I knew my limits and I didn’t wonder if, I knew there were consequences if I crossed the line. (All you veteran parents out there rolling your eyes, I know it doesn’t get easier, but this is my blog and the kids are young. We’ll see what happens in a few years)
When heading over to a friend’s house for Game 5 of the World Series, another friend and I were talking about the discipline thing. He said that too many of the women he’s been dating lately are “friends” with their kids. The kids are brats, they have no respect for the parent unless they are being given exactly what they want (sounds like some folks on a famous street in NY, but I digress).” We then told a few stories about the impact moments in our lives from our fathers. They both included very attention getting scenarios shall we say and the lessons were clearly never forgotten. And my love for my father and he for his is untarnished. I miss dad so much I can’t even stand it sometimes and he died in 1996. He was far from easy on me and I remember very clearly on time when I told him he wasn’t my friend. The scene was by the car in front of the garage. I wanted to do something and he wouldn’t let me. I said he just wanted to control me. He said he was trying to be my friend. Then I said he wasn’t my friend. He said, “Someday you’ll regret saying that. Your dumbass friends only care what they can get from you today, I care about your future and everything you’ll ever be. I’m teaching you to be a man. I’m more of a friend than you’ll ever know.”
He was right, I still hear that conversation and it haunts me. I am preparing myself for when Connor says it to me, and of course I’ll deserve it. I may not deserve it for the moment when it’s delivered, but definitely for past sins. In any case, I loved hearing Connor tell me that I was his friend last night. But I know my job is bigger than being a buddy to a toddler. Connor, I care about your future and everything you’ll ever be. I hope that I’m teaching you to be a man and I hope someday you know how much of a friend I really am.” Unfortunately Josie is so damn cute she gets everything she wants, I hope she marries a rich guy or life is going to be pretty down-hill from here.
No comments:
Post a Comment