“Mother!”
“Yes, Maj?”
“Mother! I need help, Mother! Kallan is way too energetic! Help me!”
I walk into the room, and Maj is sitting on the couch knitting.
And Kallan is whirling and twirling around her sister like she’s a tether ball and Maj is the pole to which she is attached. Spinning closer and closer and closer.
I grab Kallan by the arm as she spins past me, and she crumples exaggeratedly to the ground, “My arm is all twisted! My arm is all twisted! You are not allowed to hurt your child, Mom. That is bad news for you.”
Snort!
“Bad news for me? I don’t think so. You’re the one with the messed-up arm.”
Kallan lies on the floor and cradles her arm, “I’m going to tell on you, Mom. And that will be bad news for you.”
Sigh.
I walk to the front door. Open it.
And gesture with my arm that Kallan should join me, “Come on, then.”
She stands and stares at me, “What?”
“Let’s start with the neighbors. I’m sure they will be delighted to hear your tale of woe. Let’s start with them. We can get the authorities involved later if you feel it’s necessary, but let’s start with the neighbors.”
“What?”
“Don’t threaten me with garbage, Kallan. I grabbed your arm to stop you from crashing into your sister and you are not hurt. At all.”
“Ummmm . . . you should not grab my arm, Mom.”
“Are you hurt, Kallan?”
“Not actually, no.”
“Then stop being ridiculous.”
And I shut the door.
Later in the day, we are out walking and Kallan is being a pill. I warn her several times about her misbehavior, and then I make her hold my hand for the remainder of the walk. She does not want to hold my hand, and so she goes all limp in my grasp.
And so I tighten my hand around hers.
And she squeals in mock pain, “You are crushing my hand! You are trying to kill me! You are smashing my fingers into mush! You are not allowed to abuse your child! I am going to have to speak up here!
And so I stop in the path, bend down to meet her eyes and speak slowly and loudly, “Do you remember our earlier conversation, Kallan?”
She stares at me, “Which one?”
“The one about making accusations you aren’t able to back up. That one.”
“Yeah, why are you talking so loudly, Mom? People can hear you, you know,” and she looks around nervously.
“I am speaking loudly so that I have everyone’s attention. Now are you or are you not injured in any way?”
She speaks low and into her chest, “No.”
“I’m going to need you to speak up, babe. I want all of the people here at the park and walking past us to know if you are injured. Because if I have hurt you? We need to get to the bottom of that right away, and all of these lovely people can help.”
I am still speaking very loudly, “But if you are lying? Then I want them to hear that as well, because I am not going to be putting up with this crap. Do you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“OK, so let’s start again. And I will need you to speak up so that we are all clear. Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Have I ever once, in your whole life, hurt you on purpose?”
“No.”
“Not once?”
“No. Please stop yelling.”
“I am not yelling, I am speaking loudly. And I will continue speaking loudly until we have resolved this. So have we had this discussion before? The one in which we talk about lying and accusing your mother of hurting you?”
“Yes.”
“And have we had this discussion once? Or many times?”
“Many times.”
“But you have just lied again, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
And then I stand and hold out my hand, “You need to hold my hand, Kallan.”
And she does.
And we walk.
Sigh.
way to go, mom! yowza!
Kallan is a button-pusher extraordinaire.
So sometimes drama is required.
And the best defense?
Is a noisy offense.
you should put that on a bumper sticker
Hee hee!
I so should.
I’ve already printed this out on a note card and stuck it into my purse.
I love that!
It fits on a note-card?
I love your technique! You are so getting ahead of them for the teen years.
We’ll see.
They are forever coming up with new ways to torture me.
So we’ll see.
If only kids knew how much it hurt us to discipline much less have to actually HURT them–feelings or otherwise.
Kallan kills me.
She is ALWAYS surprised when I call her bluff.
Always.
And I always call her bluff.
Always.
Silly girl.
I’m a bluff caller too.
Although when my bluff is called? I do it. Because I don’t want people to think I bluff.
EXACTLY!
I am so taking tips. You haved earned my mother of the year award, for sure.
Snort!
Not even.
So not even.
I do the best I can, though.
Maj knits!
Love that!
Also love? Your parenting.
And you!
Maj loves to knit. And crochet. And weave bracelets. And bead.
She is a busy crafting girl. With busy busy hands.
As for the parenting? Some days are better than others. Today? Eh.
But thanks for the love!
You’re welcome, as usual.
I also knit. I wish I had learned young, though. She’s lucky!
Maj has a lot of excess nervous energy that she is able to channel into her crafting.
Kallan’s energy just bounces around the house.
Like a tether ball.
Untethered.
you are my hero. but you already knew that.
does either child use a sewing machine? just curious.
Maj would like to learn, and has asked me to find her a beginner’s class.
And I am not a hero.
I do not even know how to thread a sewing machine.
luckily, they come with instructions. and are pretty intuitive machines, too.
she could start by making a simple patchwork quilt.
i could teach her. :)
I have a sewing machine that I have never ever used. Brand new.
I told Maj she could have it, and now she is antsy for the class.
I should get on that.
And you? Live far too far away to be of help.
well if it is brand new, there is an instruction manual. that’s a good start! it will be great.
You know damn well I lost the manual.
Plan B = find the manual online.
Ooooh . . . you are way smart!
I will do that!
go mom…that will teach her. And I have made a mental note as I will need to be using this in the future i am sure.
Here’s hoping you won’t need the notes.
Not every child is as evil as Kallan.
Sigh.
I remember being Kallan’s age and throwing a snit because I didn’t agree with some punishment I received. I told my mom I’d call Child Protective Services; she handed me the phone, looked up the number in the phone book, and started to dial. Snicker! My mom was awesome! You remind me of her.
Hee hee!
I can so see myself doing that.
Here, Kallan. Here’s the phone. Let me get that number for you.
hee hee!
It worked! Amazing! Now, why don’t we have a tag for “parenting 101″ so that all the clueless parents like me can just click to recall all of your genius parenting techniques?
That was good!
Now what exactly dictates if Kallan call you “mom” or “mother”? (I enjoy the latter, really fits the dramatic nature of the character.)
Kallan very rarely calls me Mother.
You’re thinking of Maj.
Kallan calls me Mom. Or Mommy if she is trying to get away with something.
Mark loves you!
He also wants me to have more parenting tags around here.
Snort!
My mom gave me a suitcase when I decided to run away.
The latch was broken so I tied it closed with orange yarn.
Then I wandered up and down the neighborhood holding my suitcase closed with my arms because I hadn’t done such a great job with the yarn.
THEN I decided that if my mother wanted me gone, then the best way to get back at her would be to stay at home so she’d have to deal with me.
It is possible that to this day she regrets not giving me the suitcase that closed properly.
Snort!
I love you.
With your broken suitcase and your orange string and your determination to make your mother pay.
I love you.
You are the meanest mother EVER.
I’m so proud!
Thank you.
Seriously, though?
I am tired of this string of crappy days.
I need lighter.
How does one go about ordering lighter, do you think?
If you figure it out? I need you to let me know.
Is locking them in their rooms still unacceptable? It shouldn’t be.
I want you to have some lighter days. If I had a way to make that happen, I’d do it in a second.
There should be something to do besides just hanging on until it’s over, but there isn’t. I hate that.
Love you.
Yup.
Hanging in there.
Thanks, you.
Love you.
Yay for your superior mom-ness!! You really do rock. Although very frustrating at times, many times, I’m sure — you have such an awesome way of handling things. It is much inspiring!
Someday, I hope to be even a tad bit as bad ass as you in the mom department.
I too, take notes for later.
Ok, I have a weird and totally random question here for you? I think you are a way awesome mom, person, and then some.
Your daughters, I’m guessing have no problems telling or asking you anything — seems like you would be way cool and understand of all things. Do you guys have a very open relationship where the talks and problems are concerned?
Short answer?
Yes.
Was there something specific you wanted to ask me?
No ma’am. :)
I just like to take it all in — and apparently be all over sharing and the like. I hope to seriously, some day be a mom like you and thoroughly love reading about your take on things. Your attitude is one of the best I have ever come across!
The open honest relationship is something I hope someday my kids will have with me. And kids? Have been on the mind lately.
Now what was that about over sharing??
And also? Am I all sappy or what? Geez.
What better place to over-share then in the secrecy of this blog?
Snort!
Love you, babe.
You’ll be fine.
OBSESSED w/ your blog, Kris! Sarcasm and wit just ooze out!
Questions though..
1. How old are your girls?
2. Maj seems too show signs of autism.. Is this the case, or is she just advanced?
3. I have never seen you/ your family in a pic before, can we fix this?<3
Yay!
I do like when someone notices the oozing!
And your questions . . .
1) Maj is 11 and Kallan is 9
2) Snort . . . you are all diagnosy . . . Maj is Maj.
3) Nope. No photos. There may come a time when I make photos available, but for now? I prefer the images of us you paint in your mind.
Go back and read the archives.
You’ll learn much.
LMAO. That was great. I remember my mom always telling me that if I really wanted to go to the orphanage and play with “Annie” from the movie I so loved, she’d even call for me. Also, she warned us about running away by reminding us that we “had to come home sometime”. She often ended sentences with “and your little dog, too” just for effect. She’s awesome. So are you.
A Wizard of Oz threat?
Your mom is awesome.
Happy sighs.