Simply Mother

I hate the way I sound when I’m just trying to get my daughter to do what I want.

It’s not too frequent that it happens, but it does, and whenever it does, it feels just rotten, and I always end up undoing whatever it is I was trying to accomplish anyway–and the whole thing takes longer than if I would have gone the usual route of working something out with her.

Example from tonight:

We got home a bit late this evening so that made everything else late. Normally, after dinner and scriptures, we do a little bedtime routine (teeth, jammies, etc.) and then I read to Jane and tuck her in while Sariah has a little quiet time–she usually reads in the living room–until her bedtime.

Depending on how late it is when Jane goes down, Sariah’s quiet time can last anywhere from 5 minutes to an hour. She’s fine as long as she gets some time, and she really does need this time to unwind.

I chose to ignore that fact tonight because

• It was already her bedtime–and she really is unhappy and sleepy all day when she goes to bed late. (It doesn’t matter what time my kids go to bed, they’ll be up bright and early. (Or dark and early, as the case may be!)
• The house was a mess and I wanted to just be done with kid bedtime (which I normally love) and go tackle it.
• Baby Mary only slept for about 10 minutes, so she was awake and, I don’t know, even though she’s not really a bother–I can just throw her on my back while I clean, something about that just had me kind of antsy.

Anyway, the reasons don’t really matter to a six-year-old who just wants her time–probably just wants to maintain the routine if nothing else. She would have been happy if I had said, “Okay, go ahead and read for about five minutes, but then we really need to get you in bed.”

And I’ve done that before. Sometimes, I’m flexible and compassionate.

Tonight, I chose rigid and unsympathetic.

She was starting to do her little spaz out thing (pretty rare these days) because I wasn’t budging, and I thought she might start knocking on the wall and making little noises after I left so that noone would sleep and then the whole point–helping my kids get enough sleep–would have been lost.

Instead of doing the reasonable thing (Backing up, saying, “I’m sorry hon, I forgot how important this is to you, why don’t you go ahead and read for a few minutes while I sing some songs to Jane.”) I decided to just plow my way through, compelling her, if only through that “serious and firm” voice I hate hearing myself use, to just do what I wanted.

My speech was something along the lines of “Sometimes things happen that we don’t like, but we need to deal with them without making a fuss, so don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Well, maybe it’s true that we need to learn how to deal gracefully with things we don’t like, but I don’t really think kids get any better at this by having unsympathetic parents who just give them lots of opportunities to practice it!

And it was a big deal to her, why was I ignoring and belittling her feelings? I may not have been issuing any specific threats but I was definitely being coercive and it definitely did NOT feel good. For any of us.

She did “suck it up” though and I quickly went out and plunked down in the hall and moped.

I did NOT feel like cleaning or blogging or anything, I just wanted to kick myself for being so stubborn and ending the night with my kids on such a dire, unfriendly note.

After a few minutes, I went back in. I sat down by Sariah’s bed and touched her face. I apologized. I told her how I don’t like the way my voice sounds when I’m just trying to get her to do what I want, and I’m sure she doesn’t either. I told her I was sorry we didn’t have time for quiet time, and that I would make sure she had time to read before bed in the future.

She said, “Now I’m probably not going to be able to get to sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Because I usually fall asleep thinking about what I read right before bed.”

So I asked her what she’d been reading about earlier today, she told me a little bit about The Return of the Indian, and with that on her mind, I gave her a real mother’s tuck in, did Jane too, and said good night.

And felt much, much better.

Now, if only I could remember this forever. But I won’t. Well, I’ll probably remember it–even tonight, in the midst of my stubborn streak, I knew I would regret it, could see what the better route would have been–but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I guess it’s more of a “personal growth and maturity thing” than a “find the right answer” thing. Too bad, that one’s a lot harder to accomplish.

Filed in: parenting | November 11, 2009