It was a warm Tuesday evening. My son and I sat at the study table, each person minding their book.
Suddenly, I looked up and saw him holding a sachet of pills, which I had not noticed lying on the table.
Me: Bring it.
Theo: It’s for daddy
Me: It’s not for daddy
Theo: It’s for daddy
Me: It’s not for daddy, it’s for me
Theo: (switches his testimony and puts the drug behind his back) It’s for me
(Now, I am surprised. How can it be for him?)
Me: Theodore, give it to me.
Theo: (with a mischievous smile) It’s for me
At this point, I was seriously considering pulling out my Mom Voice and instructing him to hand it over.
However, I had been working on being more patient with him and I felt that the present set of circumstances was as good as any to learn the art of patience – even though I could feel myself getting exasperated.
So, I decided to plead.
Me: Oya please, give it to me.
(I must have said this about 20 times, with my preschooler smiling at me mischievously and keeping his hand firmly behind him.)
Sometimes, he would make as if to give it to me and then snatch his hand back when he saw me reach out – all the while, smiling mischievously. It was apparent he was enjoying watching me beg.
So, I changed tactics.
Me: I will not play with you again (said this about 10 times. Dude did not budge)
So, I picked up my book and pen and started writing.
Then, I began to hear, ‘Mommy, take’
Me? African mother, that I am? I did not deign to give a response
Theo: Mommy, gba (take, in Yoruba) (apparently, he felt that the English language was not sufficient to appease me and that he might get better luck with his Native tongue)
Me: (no answer. I continued with my writing)
Negotiations have ground to a halt.
Up next, “Mommy, I want to wee-wee”
I waited for him to head towards the bathroom, and quickly snagged the drug from where he had stashed it.
Win-Win!
I got the drug, and he didn’t get yelled at. We continued our evening in companionable enjoyment.
Too much sense will not kill me!
Had a similar experience? Tell me about it!
Super mom!
Thanks, bro!
Awn
I always say there are better ways to express our feelings we don’t always have to raise our voice, I believe raising ones voice on a child makes them lowkey aggressive
And it’s only teaching them that the only way they can express anger is by raising their voice..
Although it takes a lot of patience and being intentional
I raise my voice at Meira when she’s being cranky, unconsolable(it drives me crazy especially when I have hardly slept)
But now when she’s like that I just calm my self down by saying
*it must be hard being a baby because you can’t fully express yourself, you can’t tell me where it hurts and how to better console you, you can only cry and hope I understand you *
Saying all that calms me and I am back to being nice but men it’s not easy
My dear… It’s legit one of the hardest things to do.
But wait, you yell at MY Meira? Don’t let me come and fight you in Ghana o! ????
How are you both doing?
Hahaha… Theodore my boy! So smart ?
It’s you he resembles na ???
Wow… Theodore bobo. Weldone ma.
That’s our son o ???
Interesting! ?
My wife and I have had just this kind of experience over and over again, usually with our phones.
Just a while before I came here, we were ‘negotiating’ my bunch of keys and just like your son asked to wee-wee, mine asked to drink water, and that was the end of it. ?
Parenting is such an experience! Sometimes, I feel that these little ones teach us as much as we teach them, or maybe even more.
Thank you for sharing your story.
? ? ? Yes indeed. They teach us a lot! It is then up to us to be sensitive and humble enough to acknowledge their teaching and learn from them.
Practical and effective
Thank you sir. ?