By Melodee
I locked my son out of the house today. I did. He’d run outside to make a dramatic point about the horrors of repeating a failed spelling test. When I saw the door ajar, I closed it, locked it and then made sure the other doors were locked, too. Ha! (I, myself, am the model of maturity, to be sure.)
And when he knocked at the front door, I leaned in close to the door jam and said with mean glee, “Enjoy your time outdoors because I don’t allow children who are disrespectful into my house!” And then I checked to make sure the deadbolt was still turned and stomped upstairs where my daughter was taking her third bath of the day and was vying for my attention. (”WHAT?!” “Um, I need a stick to put in his mouth,” she said, indicating a plastic shark. At which point, I died from a heart attack. The end.)
I never, ever, not one time in my whole adolescence sassed my parents. (At least not out loud.) I never set out to annoy them, to displease them, to make them want to lock me out of the house. Never. I was a pleaser, a good girl who wanted only to get perfect grades. I volunteered my time at a hospital, at a 4-H group, at church and more. If you needed help, I was your girl.
And how has all my goodness been repaid? With stinky boys who feel free to complain and whine and slide off their chairs onto the floor in protest when I expect them to take a spelling test. With sons who don’t hesitate to tell me in no uncertain terms what they will not do. (”I will NOT take that assessment!”) With kids who break pencils to protest the injustice of my expectations.
Karma-schmarma! Phooey on karma, I say! I deserve a child who yearns to read the captions and the footnotes, in addition to the regular text. I deserve a child who is utterly grateful for the sacrifice that schooling-at-home is for me. I deserve a child who displays some maturity and some respect. I deserve a child who loves to read more than play Nintendo.
And I get mouthiness and stubbornness and kids who are like giant anchors needing to be dragged up from the sea bottom. And they are tangled up in seaweed, just to make matters worse.
But they are my anchors. And so I unbolted the door, accepted his apology, gave the spelling test again. For whatever reason, God thought these were the kids for me, so away with you, Expectations! Hello, Reality! I’m not quite ready to hug you yet, Reality, but I guess you can sit over there in the comfortable chair for now while I say farewell to my fond Expectations.
(”Buh-bye!” she says, weeping.)
Originally posted May 11, 2006 at Actual Unretouched Photo.
I think we have the same kids. I only have one daughter and she is the complete and total opposite of me. I loved this post – thanks for sharing!
Oh, how this hit home! My husband and I are teachers. We were the “good kids” in our families. We followed the rules, had good friends, and got great grades, without the need for nagging parents. Our children are great kids, but they are NOT the academic kids that we were….so far. I still take pride in the fact that they are thought of as great kids, even if my 7 yo son is a little TOO active!!
Yes, I think all kids are good kids. As parents, we need to set our expectation properly, and guide each kid by his or her individuality.
http://www.parents-and-kids.com/blog/en/topics/guide-kids-by-their-individuality/
Wow!! You really hit the nail on the head! I homeschooled for years and had MANY days like that. My boys are now in public high school (a prayerful, mutual decision) but as I remember those days I do so with fondness (and an occasional shudder).
My mother used to say that our kids would pay us back for being the kind of kids we were. I was like you, so I guess I’m being paid back for my husband’s childhood. It doesn’t seem quite fair!
I love this post!!! I wish i could say that Karma has not come back to haunt me but i was a hellion and my kids are giving me my just dessert.
Around here we call it “payin’ for your raisin’.” I haven’t had to lock anyone out – yet. But I have withheld breakfast when my oldest boys snuck candy for breakfast – MY candy. Chocolate. That was MY birthday present. They were lucky I let them have lunch!