Archive for June 2012

Oops, I did it again   Leave a comment

One day, I assume I will learn from my mistakes.

Every time a friend of mine brings his/her child over, I insist to myself that I will do nothing but support that friend.  I won’t interfere in their parenting, I won’t take things beyond where they (the parent) are comfortable, and I certainly won’t draw lines in the sand unless I’m being injured in some fashion (hit, kicked, bitten, etc.)

I tell myself to leave things alone…and yet, I don’t.  I go beyond simple support when they’re at my house and try to impose my parenting style on them in one way or another.  Sometimes I recognize this midstream and apologize…but then I go right back to doing it again.

It makes no sense to be this way.  My friends aren’t bad parents.  No one in my acquaintance is doing anything that would harm or damage their child.  I’ve raised my son and really didn’t want another child when I could have one (I’m now past that point thanks to a weirdly troll-like uterus and a hysterectomy).  Mothering, except in that “mother of an adult” way, is done for me.

I think it may have something to do with consistency…which, contrary to popular belief, is not necessarily the hobgoblin of little minds.  I am a believer in consistency in parenting – once a line is drawn, it must be maintained come hell or high water.  This is why one has to be so careful about picking battles with tiny ones; since the line must be upheld, it is essential to know whether this is a hill on which you’re willing to die.  If not, don’t draw the line.

Tonight, my husband made dinner for me, his girlfriend (my metamour), and her son.  Her son didn’t want to eat it…despite being a huge fan of French toast, he was too tired to really want anything.  So, my metamour told him that he had to eat one bite before he could have the cereal he was asking for.

Her son is three, so this started an epic battle that will hereafter live through legend.  I backed her up and got the little one to come back to the dining room and willingly pick up a piece of French toast to bite it…and that’s when he bit his lip.

*sigh*  Of course, the French toast immediately became the scourge of all 3 year olds and he wouldn’t touch it for love or money.  The wailing was deafening.  I continued to try to hold the line until my husband decided he couldn’t take it anymore.

I gave the tinysmall some goldfish crackers when he asked for them, with his mother’s blessing, reasoning that we’d said he couldn’t have Lucky Charms without a bite of French toast but hadn’t said he couldn’t have anything.  During this, I realized I was on major thin ice.

This child, whom I love, is not mine.  I have no right to step in unless asked.  I know this, and yet I completely overlooked it.  Again.

I apologized to my metamour, and she was gracious.  I apologized to my husband, who accepted wholeheartedly.  He then left to take her and the little rampage monster home.

On the way out, he filled a bag with cereal, including Lucky Charms.

Posted June 14, 2012 by veggiewolf in Depression, Triggers

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