Making Friends Wherever I Go

Last winter when I spent my Saturdays bribing Pumpkin into enduring her ski lessons, I was not one of the more popular parents. The post-lesson vending machine jelly beans were only the tip of the iceberg after promises of McNuggets and shiny crap from Claire's. I received many a raised eyebrow in the ski lodge change room as other kids started clamoring for their share of the goods. My popularity continued this week at the doctor's office with Chichi.

Chichi is not a big fan of the place where she has received several needles, and it seems that she is never going to forget this. She bursts into tears at the mere smell of the waiting room. That's where my iPhone comes in handy.

Chichi is quite proficient at operating the apps that I have downloaded for her, and can conceivably play for hours without taking any notice of her surroundings. It only makes sense to let her play with it to calm her nerves when we visit the doctor. At least it makes sense to me.

The person who could not see the logic in the Chichi-iPhone arrangement was a thirteen year old patient who was also waiting to see the doctor.

"MOM! Even that BABY has an iPhone! I'm the last person on earth who doesn't have one!"

I was talking to the doctor at this point, so my mom calmly explained to the girl and her mother that it was in fact the baby's mother's phone.

"WELL I DON'T CARE! That BABY can still operate the thing better than I can because I never get to use one!!!"

To the mother of that teenage girl; "YOU'RE WELCOME!"

Innovative Ideas in Parenting?

A couple of weeks ago, we took Pumpkin to Winnipeg with us for a family event. It is not news to us that anticipation of big plans like this make her hyper beyond belief, but we were banking on the various parties we were attending to diffuse her excitement. WRONG!

It's not like she was totally unfit to be out in public, but there was a lot of desperate bargaining, and threatening going on behind the scenes. We just found it too hard to discipline someone for being hyper, talking non-stop, and working herself into a frantic tizzy all because she was so excited to be there. We're also not big on causing public scenes. Beating one's kids in the airport seems to be out of style these days.

Anyhow, we made it through the week-end, barely, and have gotten back in the swing of time-outs and toy-removal. Nonetheless, she has continued to be the worst version of herself.

Then I got a voicemail today. It was from her teacher, advising me that Pumpkin was going to be receiving another award at this month's character trait assembly. If you've been following Pumpkin's achievements thus far, you will remember that she received an award last year for 'exemplary optimism'. This time she is getting an award for being 'responsible'.

Seizing the opportunity to get some compliance out of Pumpkin, I told her about the award, and how proud that we all are of her. She merely continued to cry about the injustice of not being allowed to eat Halloween candy for dinner, and subsequently made demands about which toys I had to buy her from the Mastermind toy catalogue.

As the evening went on, however, she calmed down a bit. I continued to explain her award to her, and how being responsible was such an important trait. She started to buy it. She started doing good things, and subsequently boasting about how 'responsible' she was being. She took care of her sister, and declared herself 'responsible!' She dressed herself and brushed her own teeth, declaring herself 'responsible'! By the time she went to bed, she was my dream child. Ok, not really, but she was being pretty good.

Assuming that the awards are going to be distributed fairly evenly amongst the other kids in the class, we're probably not going to be receiving another one any time soon. Would it be unethical to invent some fake awards and just tell her that the school mailed them to her?

Bad Cop / Good Cop

It has occurred to me that a huge chunk of the behaviour of 4yo Pumpkin is designed to test my ability to not cause her any physical harm. It's hard, but I figured out long ago that I could cause her a fair bit of grief by taking away her favourite toy of the moment. Combined with a time-out, toy removal seems to cause her enough pain to gain her begrudging compliance.

This morning was no different than any other. Pumpkin refused to put on her own shoes, insisting that she needed my help, which she didn't. Sometimes I robotically put her shoes on just for the sake of getting her out the door, but today, I was a hard-ass. I really REALLY hate babyish behaviour when it's being performed by someone who isn't a baby, and I guess that my fuse is exceptionally short today.

"That's it! I'm taking away Mousey!" It's hard to believe that uttering such a stupid phrase gives me such a feeling of power, but hey, if Mousey works, then Mousey it is! Crying, Pumpkin had to put on her shoes and also didn't have her most important toy to take to school.

Those tears didn't affect me! I knew that I was ultimately being an effective parent, as I patted myself on the back after loading Pumpkin onto the bus.

A while later I noticed some scribble on the calendar. Pumpkin has her only show-and-tell for the whole month today, and today was now the only day this month where she didn't have some prized possession with her to show her classmates.

This will be the perfect punishment for her, I thought for half a second, before guilt took over my entire being. Grabbing my purse, Mousey, and some other toy option, I raced my butt over to the school, arriving just in time to catch the JK class lining up to go into the school.

Walking back to my car as I replayed the overjoyed, most beautiful smile that Pumpkin gave me when I showed up with her toy, I thought, 'Gee I'm a nice yet ineffective mom!'

Waking Up on the Right Side of the Bed

When his son was four or five, my former colleague used to wake himself up at 4:45 every morning such that he could be alert and ready for his son's energy by the time the boy got up every morning. "You're fucking crazy!" was all I could say at the time from my childless, single, sleep-until-11-on-the-week-ends frame of mind.

Now that I have kids of my own, I still think he was off his rocker, but I have at least had a glimpse into his way of thinking as of this week.

Pumpkin's school bus schedule was changed such that her pick-up time is now 13 minutes earlier than before. This doesn't sound like much, but since I was already cutting it short for time prior to this change, I decided to do something that I hadn't done since I became a stay at home mom. I set my alarm for an early wake up.

After I got myself all spiffed up for the day, I headed over to Pumpkin's room to wake her up. This was a nice change. Usually she wakes me up by slamming herself on my bed while screaming "MOMMY!" Truthfully, being woken up this way always puts me in a foul mood, coupled with resentment, and strong desire to lock Pumpkin in a broom closet. By being the one to wake her up, it was like I had the upper hand! She couldn't get to me the way she usually does. Right up until the time she shuffled onto the bus, I was uncharacteristically calm and not aggravated.

I started thinking of my former colleague, and how his extreme early wake up probably gave him time to have a coffee and read the paper in peace, and actually started to consider it. Imagine how calm I could be if I used that opportunity! Then I quickly calculated that he set his alarm a whole two hours earlier than I had just done, and I went back to questioning his sanity.

Knowing myself quite well, not only will I never wake myself up more than 20 minutes ahead of Pumpkin, I'll probably continue to let her wake me up on non-school days, forcing us both to endure my morning grumpies.

Please Allow Me to Judge Me on Your Behalf

The last time I posted about Pumpkin's ski lessons, I discussed how Pumpkin suddenly 'got it', and was skiing like a pro. Well, not quite like a pro, but doing it willingly, and somewhat properly. Well, things haven't exactly progressed the way that I would have liked.

Pumpkin does not look forward to ski day. I never let her back out of it, but she does often complain about various physical ailments every Saturday morning when she wakes me up with her infamous line, "What my doing today?!!" Yesterday's complaint involved a frog in her tummy. And so the bribery began.

Yesterday, I promised lunch at McDonalds just for going, plus a few chocolate eggs if she managed at least six runs. In addition, it has always been a given that I would buy her jelly beans from the vending machine at the ski lodge at the end of every lesson.

Pumpkin held up to her end of the bargain, so I grabbed her the jelly beans for her to munch in the change room, which is complete chaos if you want to imagine a small room filled with about 20 young kids plus their parents, all trying to undress and dress again in winter gear. Many of the kids were crying by this point, while their parents endured the stress of getting everything organized and packed up.

Other kids saw me pumping my kid full of junk while discussing McDonald's with her, and started to nag their own parents. One father went as far as to mention to me how healthily his family eats, and how his kids don't ever get McDonald's. One mother found herself helplessly giving in to her daughter's candy demands in the face of Pumpkin's good sugar fortune. I overheard some other parent say something like, "NO! We're going home for lunch!" There was even a note on Pumpkin's progress card from last week's substitute instructor saying, 'NO TREATS!' What's wrong with a tiny piece of chocolate at the end of a good run?

Sorry to the other parents, but my crappy parenting skills are what we need to get through this seven week session. Look for me on the hill though if you need me to hook you up with something sweet.

And She Doesn't Even Live in a Bubble!

I got a call from the school this week on a day that Pumpkin was not in attendance. A slight panic took over my thoughts as I saw the school name on call display, for it struck me as a prelude to a meeting with the teacher, which isn't usually a good thing.

Au contraire, the call was not about anything negative. In fact, it was exactly the opposite. Every month, the school focuses on a particular, desirable character trait, and awards a student from each class who best demonstrates this trait. So guess who is getting an award on Friday for her continual display of exemplary 'optimism'?

That's right! My little girl is out there spreading her positive energy, irrespective of the house of sarcastic apathy from which she derives! Irrespective of my failed efforts to contain her spirit, which is sometimes a little extreme for me to handle. Irrespective of any rules or punishments that have been imposed upon her which undoubtedly, to her, seem like grossest injustices imaginable. So I take this moment of parental pride to brag a little. My ever lovin' first born is happy!

I'd write a parenting manual on the topic, but it would have to be titled, Winging It, and involve a lot of internet surfing, and store bought chicken nuggets.