My Parenting

I'm not quite sure that other people mess with their kids like I do.

Like the time Josie told me she couldn't fly--and I told her to try harder. And then laughed and laughed to myself watching her try.

This morning we dropped off my oldest at the new school. On the way there I let the youngest girl sit in the front. And #2 girl was upset by that. "It wasn't fair!" So she was crying. Not a real cry a whining fake-pushed sort of cry. THAT DRIVES ME CRAZY. It old her if she didn't whine I would let her sit in the front on the way home. She chose whining.

So when she tried to crawl in the front I reminder her of my offer and that she chose to whine therefore--she sits in the back.

So the exact cry/whine-forced emotion started on level 10. It drives me beyond bonkers.

So I asked her "Do you know how to get home from here?" "Do you have a plan for how to get home when I drop you off on the sidewalk?"

And we discussed her plan. I suggested she walk straight for miles and miles. I checked to make sure she knew our names, phone number and address. Then I said, "Ok. good". "Now what are you going to do if you don't know the way?" I suggested she walk straight until she sees the blue domino Pizza building then cross the street and walk until she sees 24th street.

She asked in a small scared whimper, "How do I know it's 24th street?" --I answer, "The big green sign will tell you"

I suggested she had the option to walk into a store and tell the store clerk that she was lost and to call the police.

"What if I go in the street and get ran over? You WANT me to get ran over" he said a little crackly voiced from her holding back tears. "No I don't. So just make sure to stay on the sidewalk." I'm not giving that kid an inch.

Little sister was concerned about stranger safety, "I have a card that says don't talk to strangers. I don't want her to talk to strangers." So I give a little speech on stranger safety and assure them that a store worker would probably be the best bet.

And her whining has stopped. It might be on account of her being curled up in a ball, slightly rocking, with her head tucked in, arms around her knees and fear written all over her face that has made her silent.

And then we pull on to our street. And then into the garage. And she darts out--with a whimpering cry and the sniffles.

I should write a parenting book. It'd be a best seller. I'm sure of it ;)