J and I both happened to read the same parenting article over the weekend. When we were discussing it, because, yes, we're lame like that, and are always educating, learning, and re-evaluating our parenting methods/choices/decisions and we talk like crazy about this stuff, I could not help but point out to him what hypocrites we are.
Okay, okay. I shouldn't point fingers and drag J into this. Really, it's me. Only him a tiny wee bit.
I believe very, very strongly in peaceful parenting. I don't really believe in punishments in general, though I realize that there is a time and place for them. I think yelling and screaming at your kids is wrong. Anyone who knows me knows that I find spanking to be pretty appalling. I believe in bodily integrity. I don't believe in allowing your kids to cry. I don't really believe in television. Yeah...and this is all just the tip of the iceberg.
Yet, I pretty much violate all my beliefs in one way or another.
Have I ever punished Miss H? You betcha! She is familiar with time-out. I try really hard to remember that she doesn't really "get" time-out. She's not really sitting and thinking about her poor choice. She's just thinking she has to sit and she really hates mommy for this and it just makes her madder. I get it. I totally do. And yet I've had times when I've just been so overwhelmed I've put her there. Wrong or right, doesn't matter. Sometimes it's the only way to make her behave. Which that alone is probably a bad statement. The use of the word "make" isn't really likeable. But it is what it is and sometimes talking and reasoning and understanding her point of view still doesn't make me feel like she doesn't need a time-out. Or that I do.
Yelling is a no-no around here. I mean, what kind of person actually yells at a child? Well, I do. I mean, not every day. Or even every week. But I have my moments. When I'm on my last straw and I've told Miss H to stop pulling on her brother's neck because it hurts him about a million times, when I finally just end up shouting, "H, stop it!" Is it right? Nope. Does it get the point across? You betcha! Does she stop? Yes. Thank goodness!
I don't agree with spanking. It doesn't make sense to me how a child who hits a child, a child who hits an adult or an adult who hits an adult is called aggressive. Their actions are labeled as assault. And yet an adult who hits a child and is said to just be disciplining their child and it's not aggressive or assault. In fact, it's perfectly acceptable. Have I ever spanked Miss H? Yes. I hate admitting that. It makes me want to vomit and bury my head in the sand like an ostrich. But I have. Twice in fact. Yes, yes, let the flaming begin. Me. I spanked H. Not J. But me. Twice. I could give you all the excuses - I was suffering from post partum depression, I was going on a month of single mommyhood, I was overwhelmed and sleep-deprived. But they don't make my actions right. I still hit my child.
Bodily integrity is a big one for me. I don't believe that anyone has the right to alter another's body for cosmetic reasons other than the person to whom the body belongs. I don't own my children. Their bodies do not belong to me. And yet I allowed my son the bodily integrity that I feel very passionately about, and took that from my daughter at 5 weeks old when I chose to pierce her ears because it was "cute."
I don't believe in "cry it out." I couldn't imagine leaving my baby alone in a dark room to cry herself to sleep. In fact, just thinking about it makes my stomach hurt. Especially now as a mom, I don't know how anyone can listen to their baby scream and not immediately comfort them. How is that not their instinct, you know? That being said, I've let my babies cry. I've been frustrated and exhausted and at times both Miss H and baby B have been left alone in their rooms while Mommy re-cooped for a few minutes. Yes, they screamed. Yes, there were some serious tears. And yes, I still just walked away. But I didn't leave them for prolonged periods. I didn't expect them to fall asleep sobbing. I always returned after a few minutes and loved on and comforted them. Miss H has woken at night and cried out for me. Sometimes I haven't gone to her. I've waited a few minutes, and when she doesn't yell again, I go back to sleep. And sometimes, when she's just throwing a major fit and crying, I have to walk away and let her cry because I'm frustrated. And letting her cry seems like a better alternative than yelling at her for being two. So I do. And that might all be wrong. I don't know.
Really, for all the above, the only "good thing" I can take from it is that those experiences humble me. I apologize. I have told my daughter, more than once obviously, that it is not okay for mommy to yell. That yelling isn't nice and I'm sorry, and so forth. They also help me when I get frustrated with my children to remind me how royally I mess up too. And I've got a lot more life experience under my belt than they do. They are suppose to mess up and not listen and you know, act their ages in general.
Don't worry. I didn't forget about the TV. I really do not believe in TV for children. Like, at all. And not under the age of two. Ever. At the end of my pregnancy I was anemic and exhausted. Miss H woke up at 5am as if she had a job to get to. So I laid on the couch and put Spanish cartoons on for her. Sometimes for hours. There is 17 months between her and baby B. It doesn't take a genius to realize that she wasn't even almost two yet. There is a DVD player in our car. It gets used religiously. I can honestly say she does not watch television every day. But she does watch it more often than I'd prefer. I'm still pretty militant about what she's allowed to watch, but even so. It's not a perfect arrangement.
So you see, I'm a hypocrite. I’m a mother. A human being. I am not perfect. And regardless of my many failings, I'm still a really kick-ass mom with even more kick-ass kids. So flame me.
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