From My Lips to My Child’s Ears

My precious firstborn child, now nearly grown and still just as strong willed as she’s always been, has over the years inspired me to utter things I never imagined I’d say as a parent. Oh, the memories:

• “Chairs are a privilege.” (She’d tipped back her chair precariously on its two back legs, again, and had to eat a meal standing up. The first of several such meals.)

• “Stop sticking my finger up your nose, seriously.” (I would be all stern and shaking a finger at her, and she’d walk up and park a nostril on my pointy finger. Kind of hard to hold a stern line with her at that point.)

• “That’s why it’s called ‘punishment,’ not ‘FUN-ishment!’ ” (From earlier this week. I’m thinking she may need to visit the optician to check for damage from the severity of her eye roll.)

• “Oh, if you are gonna stomp on the stairs, you need more practice to learn how to walk correctly. Walk back down and up again, nicely. Yes, I’m serious. Don’t worry; I’ll watch you practice til you get it right.” (then, minutes later) “Hey, sounds like you need practice closing your door quietly too — I’ll be right up!”

Having a strong-willed child is good, right? It means folks will not be able to walk all over her when she’s grown and on her own. That’s what I keep telling myself. So my goal has been to just enjoy her and show her how to be a good, responsible, caring, sensitive, mature person. To mold her, if needed. To BEND that spirit a little, not break it entirely.

No matter how tempting at times. :oP

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