Truce Peace Love and a Little Mud

Its a beautiful day. Warm and sunny. My mood is self adjusting.

How about the baby decided he wanted a nap at 1130 am this morning and he is still asleep? I figured he'd sleep for an hour (since it was not the norm for him; he usually naps around 1-3 or 4) and we'd be good for the day. Still sleeping.

The Oldest has had a rough week. Rough indeed. The final straw was when (and I don't think this was necessarily a horrible horrible horrible horrible thing; it was not a good thing but not the worst) he came home from school with a note from the teacher that he had done his show and share with a jet airplane (that I didn't even know he brought) and that went fine but after his time of showing and sharing, he sat back down and pointed his jet airplane at two little girls and pretended he was going to "bomb" them. ugh. Ok. So you know. Boys. Whatever. But really, not a very nice thing and can be construed as violent blah blah blah by the teacher/school. Ok. So this on the tail end of a really not so great week; can list several things here and one of them was pretty big. Last night was his school Carnival. Once a year. Last year, his first year there in first grade, they didn't DO the Carnival, not enough parental volunteers . This year, he gets to go. This year, they're having it. Hurrah! Uh, notsomuch. I knew the right thing to do was not let him go. We have talked this week A LOT. Can I say we've talked? About not following when the follower is a trouble maker. About making your own decisions. About sometimes being a leader even when you might be alone and we know, that is hard to do even when you are an adult so it's ten times harder for a kid. I get that. I'm not expecting him to be Mr. Perfect, just maybe once in a while, can we get some effort to that? This is all I'm asking right now. We have talked. About showing respect to your Soccer coach, your Dad, adults in general. We have talked. And then this. This little Jet bombing thing. Ok. I wanted him to go to this Carnival. Of course I did. I was volunteering. We had a big family plan on the whole night. And then this. This folks, is where the rubber meets the road. This is the big fork in the road. You go left or you go right. Left is easy street in this scenario. Right is the bumpy road with all the potholes and big cracks in the road, the road that makes you fall off onto the big fat mud puddles on the side of the road where you get all dirty and muddy. Not fun. You can see where this is going, can't you?

My honey gets home. He agrees with me. We collectively tell him the road has forked a hard right and he cannot go to the Carnival. We feel that if we let him go we'll be saying he can behave as he wants and get to do anything he wants as a reward. We tell him no Carnival. Silence befalls the house. For a split second, I'm not sure what kind of night we're going to have; yelling, slamming doors, little feet pounding up the stairs in protest or quiet acceptance and moving on. Which will it be? What do YOU think happened in our little happy kingdom here on this side of the world? Hmm?

Let me tell you. With big fat Forrest Gump tears in his eyes, he said, "Well, that's my consequence so I guess I'm not going." Period. No thumping of the chest. No indignant "but MOM!!" NO argument. He knew. And you know what? I was trying my very level best not to cry myself. This my few readers is what they call, "this is hurting me more than it's hurting you" syndrome. Remember when your parents said that to you? I know you do! I do too! And at that very moment, I was living the meaning of that. I wanted him to yell at me! I WANTED him to scream and throw a fit! It would have made the whole thing SO much easier. SO much easier to dole out that punishment that I was certain was right but was feeling was wrong.

He took it like a champ AND just before I left to go to the stupid Carnival to do my volunteer bit, he said so sweetly to my husband and I, "Well at least I get to stay at home and play with the Littlest." (of course he does not call him the Littlest you know). Do you hear sweet violin music playing here? I hear it. LOUDLY. So off I went last night, all by myself to the Carnival. Can you believe that? Can you believe we did not let him go? I think it was the right thing. We made a statement. He will believe what we say, I think he does anyway, but no empty threats around here. That was HARD people.

I'm calling a truce for a little peace with a little love and a whole lot of MUD on my face. Yep. That's me. Mud face Mamma.

--J