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The Agony of Child-Rearing

By Lisa Barker

That which does not kill us makes us stronger.

If my three-year old daughter doesn't kill me with her temper tantrums I am going to be MRS. UNIVERSE!

Friday she lit into one five-hour long rage. Rolling around on her bedroom floor, kicking her feet, screaming and yelling. All this because I asked her to take a time-out in her room for five minutes…for what, though, I cannot remember. I fear my memory has been erased.

Just like when you put a CD on top of the computer or on the microwave…all the contents of my brain had been drained by this ill-tempered child.

By the time my seven-year old son returned home from school, I was completely on edge. "DON'T start with me," I warned him as he slid easily into HIS whining and stomping and fit throwing—I don't even remember what that was about. I just know it was another child screaming.

"I'M A MOMMA ON THE EDGE!" I warned again.

There's something about being a child, and I remember this well from my own childhood, that causes these vertically challenged love dumplings to just blow right passed the caution and yield signs and take a mom right over the edge.

PMS has nothing on a mom when she goes over the edge.

It starts with a glaring squint and a deep frown. Then the right hand deforms into this crooked pointy finger…and the voice turns abrasive and wickedly witchy, "I TOLLLLLD YOU NOT TO STARRRRT WITH MEEEEEEEEEEE!"

And they always have the NERVE to look surprised!

Mom was patient. Mom warned them. Mom gave them choices and opportunities to do something that would keep everything on an even keel, but no! They go for the brass ring. They utter their own squeaky shrill demands. They defy the very edge of the nervous breakdown you are teetering on and they give you that one last nudge that sends you over the edge.

While my daughter continued her tirade in her room, my son saw it as an opportunity to work things in his favor. I'd sent him to his room and had issued the decree that if he did not follow directions he'd spend the rest of his life in his room…to which he calmly replied: "I don't know if I can trust you."

In the hurricane of my madness, in the eye of the storm, I stopped and looked down at this child who met my eyes plainly as if he had spoken the golden truth and now held some sort of power over me.

Very succinctly, I said, "What_did_you_say?"

"I said, I don't know if I can trust you."

Curious, I took the bait. "You don't know if you can trust me about WHAT?"

"I don't know if I can trust that you love me."

(You know sometimes I have to secretly admire my kids for being smarties. Even though this was sheer manipulation and a bit of defiance, I had to admit he showed great intelligence by choosing and working that angle. NOT!)

I read him the riot act: "Nice try! For your information, love is a LOT MORE than presents for no reason at all, trips to fun and exciting places and whatever you want to eat whenever." (He was preparing for a weekend with Dad.) "My love as a parent is making rules and holding you to them and helping you live in such a way that you grow up to be a happy and productive adult. Those other things are nice, but without rules it's just sugar and it can spoil you rotten."

Of course I left the room feeling like HE'D won, but I left with my shoulders squared and my finger crooked so he wouldn't KNOW it.

He's been on to some of these child-rearing theories for a few days now, now that he's back from Dad's and Grandma's.

Apparently, I am a less-than parent because our home isn't orchestrated like Circus Circus for the kids.

1. I don't plan entertaining and engaging activities for them every hour or afternoon they are home.
2. I don't have special outings planned. I simply go to the store, go to the bank, go to the doctors.
3. I make one meal and expect everyone to eat it or not.
4. We have house rules and we expect them to be followed. When they aren't followed there are consequences.
5. I don't buy toys or things at the drop of a hat. I have to budget for them.

That's not to say that we don't do things as a family and that we never have fun. It's just that our fun is spread over a long period of time. In between those events is something we call LIFE and FAMILY. I have to stress to this child in particular that he is NOT a GUEST in this home. He is a FAMILY MEMBER.

We didn't have any more problems the rest of the day and my daughter finally gave up and settled into her happy self again.

But I tell you it took me three days to finish wowing over my son's attempt to manipulate. Ooooh, they're making these newest kid models trickier!

© Lisa Barker, 2003-
Jelly Mom™ is written by Lisa Barker, author of "Just Because Your Kids Drive You Insane...Doesn't Mean You Are A Bad Parent!" and is syndicated through Martin-Ola Press/Parent To Parent. To publish Jelly Mom, buy the book or leave comments, please visit JellyMom.com. Sign up for the free Jelly Mom™ weekly newsletter and receive a BONUS GIFT.

Read Lisa's Jelly Mom column at C'Moms

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The Agony of Child-Rearing