May 16, 2011
May 6, 2011
A strike of sorts
Walked in the house yesterday. Which smelled like something died in it. I dropped my purse, put down the baby and headed for the kitchen. I took out the trash immediately, but that was not it. No, it was the science project that in your home, is more commonly known as the kitchen sink. In my home, it is a battle ground. Not that I realized this at the time, but you will understand if you read on.
I Was Furious. Did he really not know the house smelled that bad?
(Yes)
Did he not care?
(Yes, he did)
Why did he not wash the dishes?
(Because I needed to learn something)
EXCUSE ME?
Yes, that is right. The dishes were not done, because then there would just be more.
Welcome to adulthood, friend.
But, wait! there is more!
If he did the dishes, then I would never learn how many dishes lil A and I use in a day.
PARDON ME, CARE TO REPHRASE?
Really? You were schooling me?? You thought you needed to teach me a lesson instead of having an adult conversation with me? I think my head actually did explode at that point. I am positive Alex took one look at me and backed out of the room. Did he notice? Oh, no, he kept doggedly on and took the opportunity to share with me my inadequacies as a disciplinarian. (Which is apparently somehow related to how many dishes darling daughter is allowed to dirty in one day).
Thank you dear. The job is all yours. For one week, you get to do it all. "Ask your dad" is my new refrain. This particular deal, which he seemed so smug about at first, comes complete with the before-school battles over getting up and dressed, what to eat, what goes in lunches, getting out the door on time (AKA, Hell-hour at our house). Solo-parenting also comes with being in charge of enforcing chores, meals, snacks (or not) and the accompany refusals, tantrums, and so on... We are on the end of the first complete day. She, in beautiful justice, was in her most stubborn glory today. There were plenty of opportunities to try out Daddy's Ideal Discipline (Which Is Much Better Than Mommy's Method) Routine.
I promised my support (after an extensive shop-therapy poor-me party resulting in 4 new outfits and a garden tiller) as well as my non-direct involvement - by which I meant, I would respond to any direct request he made for my input (which happened at 6:34 AM, much to my smug surprise... I never said I was not hoping he would have to admit he needed my help), but would not interfere or undermine any decision he made. (Which he says I do, in addition to being too easy on my child and not consistant enough.
So, the week begins. Either she shapes up and he is right (in which case, we all win) or nothing really changes, in which case I am not wrong --- this deal is a win-win for me.
So here we are. And I am on a mini strike. No disciplining for me this week. I may just sit back with a glass of wine and watch.
I Was Furious. Did he really not know the house smelled that bad?
(Yes)
Did he not care?
(Yes, he did)
Why did he not wash the dishes?
(Because I needed to learn something)
EXCUSE ME?
Yes, that is right. The dishes were not done, because then there would just be more.
Welcome to adulthood, friend.
But, wait! there is more!
If he did the dishes, then I would never learn how many dishes lil A and I use in a day.
PARDON ME, CARE TO REPHRASE?
Really? You were schooling me?? You thought you needed to teach me a lesson instead of having an adult conversation with me? I think my head actually did explode at that point. I am positive Alex took one look at me and backed out of the room. Did he notice? Oh, no, he kept doggedly on and took the opportunity to share with me my inadequacies as a disciplinarian. (Which is apparently somehow related to how many dishes darling daughter is allowed to dirty in one day).
Thank you dear. The job is all yours. For one week, you get to do it all. "Ask your dad" is my new refrain. This particular deal, which he seemed so smug about at first, comes complete with the before-school battles over getting up and dressed, what to eat, what goes in lunches, getting out the door on time (AKA, Hell-hour at our house). Solo-parenting also comes with being in charge of enforcing chores, meals, snacks (or not) and the accompany refusals, tantrums, and so on... We are on the end of the first complete day. She, in beautiful justice, was in her most stubborn glory today. There were plenty of opportunities to try out Daddy's Ideal Discipline (Which Is Much Better Than Mommy's Method) Routine.
I promised my support (after an extensive shop-therapy poor-me party resulting in 4 new outfits and a garden tiller) as well as my non-direct involvement - by which I meant, I would respond to any direct request he made for my input (which happened at 6:34 AM, much to my smug surprise... I never said I was not hoping he would have to admit he needed my help), but would not interfere or undermine any decision he made. (Which he says I do, in addition to being too easy on my child and not consistant enough.
So, the week begins. Either she shapes up and he is right (in which case, we all win) or nothing really changes, in which case I am not wrong --- this deal is a win-win for me.
So here we are. And I am on a mini strike. No disciplining for me this week. I may just sit back with a glass of wine and watch.
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