The Little Paper

Recently, I was starting to feel like a kind of satellite of love, orbiting my daughters with purse and pockets full of tissues, snacks, lip balm and sippys; delivering explanations, juice, stories, hugs, squabble mediation, undivided attention and under-doggies with an immediacy the patrons of a five star hotel would envy.

Frankly, it was becoming a bit of a thankless and exhausting mobius loop. I mean, wait a second. I’m supposed to be in charge here. So why was I doing everything but salaaming as I backed out of the living room with their babybel wrappers in my hand?

And I wasn't alone: I asked a young friend lately what her mom likes to do in her spare time and she said “laundry.” Another grown-up friend recently asked her daughter if she thought she could just snap her fingers and she’d come running and her daughter looked up at her and said “Snap!”

The thing is though, that – in my house at any rate – this was completely my fault. I mean I’m the only mom they’ve got and if they expected me to be their butler, it must be because I’ve been, well, their butler. I did all the good stuff I read about attachment parenting and early childhood development and wants being needs, I’ve been consultative and considerate and co-operative until I’ve had to give myself time outs but somehow I think I missed the boat on being - as my brother used to say - the boss of you .

Please don’t get me wrong... I adore my girls and had no intention of decamping to the den to smoke cigars and read gothic novels while they made their own supper but seriously, enough was enough. It was time to (lovingly) flip their little universe on its axis.

But how? The answer, or at least my answer, follows…

Independence

What: There is an awful lot that they can do themselves. I needed to let them know where stuff is and how to use it. I needed to let them know what they are allowed to do and what they need to ask for help with. And I don’t hang up their coats, put away their mittens or pick up their wrappers anymore. I go and ask them to do it instead. Nicely. Just the way I’d like to be asked.

Why: Because the more they can do for themselves, the less they have to ask me to help with, the more confident they feel and the less harried things are in general. And the more I pick up after them the more I tend to feel unappreciated and over-worked.

Respect

What:  If they want to ask me a question, they can come to where I am and ask it. Likewise, if I want them to come down for dinner, I’ll find them and ask them in person rather than shouting up the stairs – turnaround being fair play. And we all say please and thank you. It’s simply not negotiable.

Why: Because yelling at each other is just plain rude.

The Mama Chair (and this I am stealing from my dad)

What: I have a chair now. It’s my chair. It’s comfortable and there’s a good light nearby for reading and a table beside it for my tea. They are welcome to come and cuddle with me – it’s a great size for sharing stories but it’s also a great size for curling up with a book or the newspaper. And I can’t concentrate if they’re playing prairie school house with each other at stadium rock volume levels. So, they can take the game upstairs. Seriously. It’ll keep until they can get to the bedroom and close the door.

Why: The chair is a real chair but it’s also a metaphor that represents my right to alone time, my enjoyment of adult pursuits and my need for quiet sometimes. And, if it sets an example for reading that’s just great too.

Don’t ask. Don’t tell.

What: I'm  breaking the habit of presenting the days activities to the children as if it were a menu which, unless it involved a trip to the local hot chocolate spot, was usually greeted with a chorus of disapproving ahhhhhhhs. Now I don’t tell them. I used to ask them what they wanted for dinner and was usually confronted with competing variations on pasta, carrots and peas. Now I make dinner (and they help set the table) and dinner is what dinner is. You don’t have to eat it but you do have to sit at the table and hang out.

Why: Because I’m the boss. And I’m a good, loving, compassionate boss and if I wouldn’t let a six year old babysit my children, why would I let a six year old set the agenda.

Chores

What: We all do them (and nobody gets paid for them) and we compliment each other prodigiously. And, this is important… I don’t correct how they do them or “fix” them afterwards. Sorting the recyclables, watering the plants, setting the table, tidying the bedroom, folding laundry and shoveling the front walk are family jobs. They make our home nice and we all want a nice home. And here’s a bonus:  if they start saying “I’m boooored.”, they know that – just like my mom – I can always find something for them to do.

Why: They actually like the routine of knowing that Tuesday night means garbage and Sundays means tidying their room and they feel proud when I tell them (often) what a big help they are and how proud I am of my family. Having regular chores means that things stay almost tidy most of the time because frankly, if I expected the house to be perfectly tidy all the time, I’d be in entirely the wrong line of work.  And I wouldn’t have any time left for…

Play

What: With joy and great frequency :-) Making forts, baking cookies, reading, playing cards, dancing, building an igloo, sledding, having pancakes for dinner, wearing tiaras to the grocery store… whatever. I have a lot more time and energy for playing when I’m not in satellite mode.

Why: Spending time with the girls is the most important gift I have to give and being silly and throwing myself into the best part of childhood nets me some great compliments like Lily’s latest: “Mom, you’re really weird. In the good way.”

The Centre of the Universe

What: At the risk of sounding incredibly big-headed, I am supposed to be the centre of their universe, not the other way around. When they orbit me, they orbit an accomplished woman of varied interests and talents, foibles and flaws. I set an example for them. So if they seeing me working or sewing or reading or trying my hand at tennis, they might want to join in or try their own thing. If they see me falling down and getting back up, perhaps they'll do that too. And if they see someone who takes care of herself first so she has the energy to take care of her children, her work, her home, her family and her friends, well, maybe they'll grow up and do that too.

Why: Because time will pass and their orbit will grow wider with every year but even when they are all grown up and far away, they will know that they can come spinning back into my arms whenever they want. (And then they can give me a hand with the laundry :-).