#realistic parenting

[greekmythcomix]

This bit in the Argonautica where Aphrodite goes to find her son Eros so she can wreak havoc with him, and he’s off beating Ganymede at knucklebones.

‘Why are you grinning, you unspeakable horror?’

[merelypassingby]

[jbthegift]

Made me laugh.  :)

[merelypassingby]

Mother and grandma having a laugh about how transgender people should be shot and/or their dicks torn off. And how grandma saw two lesbians kissing -- there never used to be FAGGOTS when I was young! -- and just wanted to vomit. Feelsgreatman.

[conversationswithhank]

(Hank, Monica (our cousin staying with us for the summer) and I all dressed for the beach waiting for Pai and Molly to get home when Monica gets a text)

Monica: Your marido (husband) asks if we can go to the garage and help him with the groceries.

Me: (annoyed) He went shopping? I told him I had everything for our picnic. We’re loosing daylight. Why can’t that man shop for groceries on the weekend like every other Portuguese?

Monica: (snickers, gets keys)

Hank: We’re not going to the beach?

Me: We’re going we just need to help papa and put the groceries away first.

Monica: There are also four of us so this will only take a few minutes.

Me: (wincing, struggling to get up)

Monica: Prima (cousin), you stay here and help put the groceries away in the kitchen. You need to save your energy for the beach.

Me: (smiling, grateful)

Hank: Can I help?

Monica: Of course. (walking out the front door with Hank)

(not three minutes go by)

Pai: (walking in, rushed) Hello, love you. Sorry, we’re losing daylight.

Molly: (sobbing) Papa! Papa!

Me: Miss Molly MaGoo, what seems to be the trouble?

Molly: Papa!

Me: (swooping her up in my arms)

Pai: (returning, sweating, with a bottle of milk)

Molly: (accepts it gratefully)

Pai: (takes the baby and lays her on the couch) Are we all set?

Me: Yup. You grab your suit. I have everything for Molly we can get her dressed there.

Monica: (bringing in groceries)

Hank: (complaining, dragging his feet and arms as if they each weigh 50lbs)

Me: (putting away groceries)

Monica: Hank, there are things light enough for you to carry.

Hank: Oh, we are never going to make it to the beach. It is 15 minutes away and its now 6:30.

Monica: (going back to the elevator for more groceries)

Me: (from the kitchen) Hank, help your prima (cousin)!

Hank: (walking into the kitchen, complaining) But the bags are too heavy!

Monica: (getting annoyed) There are things you can carry.

Me: (also annoyed, abandoning the unpacking to help with the unloading) Hank, we all need to help.

Monica: We all help we all get to the beach faster.

Hank: (whining like a silent film star tied to the rail road tracks) But I am so tired.

Me: (in the hallway) You find ways of helping. We all find ways of being helpful and don’t complain. This is life. You have to be flexible.

Monica: (not visible inside the elevator, tosses out a large package of toilet paper and a large package of paper towels, annoyed) Here, stuff you can carry.

Hank: (dramatically struggling, whining)

Me: Hank, now you’re being rude.

Hank: But it’s so hard.

Monica: (ignoring him entering the house)

Me: (getting extremely upset) Hank, cut the act.

Hank: (dramatically reenacting a scene from Dicken’s Hard Times with paper towels representing the struggle of the workhouse, whining, overwhelmed and complaining)

Me: (walking away into the kitchen, dumping my load of groceries, returning to the elevator)

Monica: (entering as I am exiting) Prima (cousin), the last bag is too, heavy. I will get it.

Hank: (in the background still struggling to stack the toilet paper and paper town packages one on top of the other, both of which have an obvious handle, loudly and obnoxiously whimpering and grumbling)

Monica: (pronounced eye roll)

Me: (walk over to Hank, rip the packages out of his hands, throw them into the house)

Hank: (loudly protesting) Mama!

Me: You ask to help, you help. You don’t act like the world is crashing down on you. COWBOY-UP.

Hank: (sobbing) BUT MAMA!

Me: Room! NOW!

Hank: I WAS HELPING!

Me: (furious, I spank his butt as he walks into the house)

Hank: (collapses, dramatically to the floor)

Me: (raging, walk past the Hank shaped heap on the floor, close the door, walk into the kitchen and unpack the groceries, visibly shaking)

Hank: (sobbing in the hallway)

Pai: (in his suite, opens the door) Go to your room until I tell you to leave.

Hank: (stomps to his room, slams the door and screams)

Molly: (pointing) Mano (brother)!

Pai: (swooping Molly up in his arms) Mano (brother) and mama need some space.

Monica: If I ever acted like that I would have gotten slapped a lot sooner.

Pai: Me, too.

Me: Me, three but times have changed. I just couldn’t take another minute of his entitled bullshit.

Pai: He has been getting worse this summer. If things are not his way he turns into a sobbing mess.

Monica: I love my cousin, but he is a bit spoiled.

Me: Agreed.

Molly: Mano (brother)?

Hank: (from his room, door closed, raging, screaming)

Me: Mano (brother) just needs to exercise some demons. (to Pai) Now, what? You, Monica and Molly can go to the beach while I stay here with The Diva.(sweating, shaking and on my last, emergency spoon*)

Pai: There is no way I am not cooling off at the beach. I worked too hard today and so did you. Talk to him. We will leave in 15 minutes. He doesn’t get to ruin our night. Not today. It doesn’t get dark until 9pm. Plenty of time.

Monica: Okay, groceries are put away. You two talk to Hank and I will talk to him later.  If I speak to him now he will be embarrassed. Molly and I will water the veranda plants.

Me: Thank you, Monica. I am so sorry.

Monica: Don’t be sorry, prima. I know that was hard for you but you had to snap him out of it. You aren’t a violent person. You smacked him on the butt like a baby because he was acting like a baby. This is a dramatic house. You all are dramatic. It’s all fine.

Me: (deep cleansing breath, walk to Hank and Molly’s room)

Hank: (dramatically sniffling)

Me: (knock and walk in)

Hank: I am sorry. I was being a jerk. I am not giving excuses. I understand. I was being rude.

Me:

Hank: I was having trouble carrying both of the embalagems (packages). I couldn’t see where I was going and I kept stumbling and tripping over my sandals. These sandals are only for the beach. (pointing to his flip flops) Who wears these in real life? I am so sorry.

Me: (holding up my hand for him to stop) I appreciate your apology. I too must apologize. You didn’t deserve a smack.

Hank: (sniffles)

Me: I lost my temper and I apologize. (deep breath) Hank, when you offer to help, you help, you don’t complain. We didn’t ask you to help YOU offered. Your choice. When you offer help you OWN it. (deep breath) When things don’t go your way or life gets challenging you crumble, complain and whine until you get your way and it ends today.

Hank: But…

Me: (holding up my hand to stop him) You will be nine years old in a few short months and this is the age when you let go of your baby ways. There is already one baby in this house and I do not need two. For the rest of ferias (vacation) we are going to work on responsibility and accountability.

Hank: What is accountability?

Me: It means being impeccable with your words and actions. You say you are going to do something you will do it. You offer help you will help without complaint. You are gonna cowboy-up when it comes to responsibility and kindness. When you don’t want to do something you will have a calm, clear and concise argument as to why you would like to not be included. You will do your best to replace whining with cleaver debate and reasoning. You will channel your dramatic behavior into more productive avenues like dancing, writing, drawing, singing or preforming and if I have to call a whambulance you will be punished. IS THAT CLEAR.

Hank: Yes.

Me: Hank, you are part of a family. You are not the star of this show and even if you were your behavior is unacceptable. You are a member of this tribe. We all work together so our lives are better for it. We are a team.

Hank: I want to do better. The whole time in the hallway I was so hot and all day I have been so hot and I couldn’t help myself. I need to learn to be better.

Me: You will. You have to make the choice to be better. It is far easier to be a drama queen than it is to be calm and responsible. I was so upset when I realized you papa deviated from the plan and went grocery shopping. We had planned that he would call at 6pm and we three would go downstairs and tumble into the car and drive strait to the beach, but plans change and you need to be adaptable.

Hank: But you are an adult. You know these things.

Me: Ah, but I didn’t always. After you were born I acted a lot like you do now.

Hank: (shocked) You were 27.

Me: Maturity and age have nothing to do with each other. I had a really hard time being a new mom, working, going to school, finding time to make art, finding time to sleep, you papa was working on his Phd dissertation and I had tantrums on a regular basis. Then your Tia Paula lent me a book and after reading it I made four agreements with myself.

I would be impeccable with my words I would not take anything personally I would not make assumptions I would always do my best

Hank:

Me: And those four agreements have made all the difference. Tonight, I didn’t do my best when it came to handling your tantrum. I could have done better. I assumed you were just being an entitled jerk. I didn’t think about the heat or that you were trying to carry both packages at once when you could have carried one at a time. I took your frustration personally and that made me furious and I lost my temper and I smacked you.

Hank: I needed you to smack my butt. I was out of control. I didn’t like it but when I was here in my room I wasn’t crying because my butt hurt. I was crying because I messed up. Because I ruined out beach picnic.

Pai: (from the hallway, having heard every word) Picnic is not ruined. Lets continue this conversation in the car. I am hot and I need the sea. Lets locomote.

Monica: Let’s go!

Hank: I’m not grounded?

Me: Nope. Let’s start over with a dip in the ocean. We all need to cool off, especially me.

Hank: (hopping into his flip flops) I am sorry, mama.

Me: Me, too buddy.

Pai: Hustle, please. We can talk about zen pop-psychology in the car!

Me: Hater!

Pai: No, that book did us a lot of good. I just question the whole Mayan backstory bit.

Me: Fair enough.

Monica: What are you two talking about?

(all tumbling out into the hallway to call the elevator)

Molly: Mano (brother)!

Hank: Mana (sister)!

Me: The Four Agreements. It’s a great book. 90 pages. I will let you borrow it. It will change your life.

*spoons is an analogy chronically ill people use to represent daily energy supply.  It is based on The Spoon Theory, by Christine Miserandino.