A Parenting Low

I feel like I am at an all-time low w/ my parenting. My children are misbehaving, they seem unyhappy with the other, and worst of all, I'm reacting to them exactly like I shouldn't.

I'm sure it's a combination of Jeff's long hours, me being sick, me being tired & then in turn - superimpatient.

I do not like to tell them something more than once. If I repeat myself, I feel like I am making a major parenting error.

Jeff & I had a beautiful black lab, Marley (yes, named after Jeff's favorite reggae singer, Bob). Marley was given all sorts of opportunities (other than growing up into an adult dog) to behave. One of them was obedience training.
One of the things we learned was to say 'no' ONCE.
If he didn't obey at that ONE TIME of saying 'no' (or given a command), he was punished -- more like redirection. (you say sit once. he didn't sit that once. we MADE him sit.)
While going through this training, I vocalized how similar this was to child-rearing. And as unflattering as it sounds to be compared to a dog, it's the truth.

I saw this confirmed in the episodes of supernanny & nanny 911 I saw.

But this is real life. And Jo Frost isn't in the next room observing me. I have life to do. And places to be at a certain time. And I don't always feel like keeping a low tone or squatting down & speaking to them at their level.
I feel like yelling, "I said to put on your shoes!" Or getting mad when Gabe grabs Flynn's hair. Because life gets in the way. And I am not perfect. Much less than actually.

But that is not my kids' faults. And this is their only childhood. I want it to be as perfect as it can humanly be. When we don't have a good day & I didn't even come close to exhibiting Christ-likeness, I kneel beside their bed & ask them to forgive me. And when we pray, we ask God to forgive us both.

That's forgiveness.

I need to get back to being proactive.

Each day this week, I've said to Jeff (the one time I get to talk to him during the day), "Tonight, can we have a family meeting & make a chart?"
Then, the kids are either in bed, or we're all too tired to make it happen.

But tonight's the night. Late or not. Tired or not. We'll have charts all over the place. Charts for listening. Charts for being fight-free. Stickers gallore.

Maybe I should have a chart?

Here at the Perry House,

when we do it, we do it allll the waaaay.

Like Gabe. He got sick yesterday. And well, he decided, that like his momma getting her review on her job & her pastor saying she puts 110% & all her heart into her job,
well, he decided he would be sick 110%.

In the matter of 24 hours, he worked his temp up to 102 (I think it was 103 this a.m.), he puked after I got him dressed, he coughed all night, and he worked himself into 2 infections (double ear + sinus infection), so the doctor wouldn't feel he'd wasted his time.

Flynn is going for Most Popular at her preschool. I have yet to do a pick-up & not have a parent say, "Oohhhhhhh, you're Flynn's Mom.... little Suzy talks about her all the time."
As if my chest needs help puffing, I admit to being the celeb's mom.
Wonder if she'll put me up in a mansion when we're older.

When Jeff's emergency brake gave out, it didn't just roll a bit. It rolled ALL THE WAY down our subdivision hill, across 2 yards & settled just mere feet in front of a neighbor's home.
Not just once.
But four times friend, four times (each time after having it "fixed").

I didn't tell you this dear internet, but this past summer, Jeff & I contributed to the annual church fourth of July variety show, because, well, we want to be supportive (code word for steal the show).
We didn't just contribute, we put on cheerleader costumes & spoofed the SNL Spartan Cheerleaders. We're that corny. We re-wrote the skit to incorporate inside church jokes about set-up, the Pastor's wife, & other slams. Also, brought down the house with a funky cold medina remix... wherein Jeff may have hollared & kicked over my head.
The skit was such a success, we were encored to do it AT CHURCH, and so, we rallied for help at our VBS through the script. This time, moments before going on, we were given wireless mics. And backstage (literally), right before our entrance, I looked at the mic pack (a pack holding batteries & the necessary mechanisms), then looked down at my lack of pockets. I was wearing a cheerleader skirt & some fitted shortys for crying out loud. So, I opted to tuck the pack safely in my waist band.
Except,
it wasn't so 'safely' tucked.
After a few kicks & double stag jumps, the mic pack had dangerously slid into the crotch of my undies.
Lordy no.
I found myself in that dangerous position I was in, where I looked down to see the toe of my shoe through my bridesmaid's dress.
I knew, that I could not jump, stag, kick, or be too terribly exciting; les my cheerleader spoof would turn into a horror skit, wherein I give birth to a mic pack.

I don't think we'll ever be accused of not giving it enough effort. We might not get the Most Improved Award, or the MVP...Going for the Hustler Hustle award.

Because I Never Claimed to be a Computer Guru

Hence my header.... I'm working on it tho & if I didn't need to go & make dinner for two new moms, I would work on it some more.
For now, you'll just have to contend with it.

And speaking of computer gurus,

In Her Defense

I feel I must set the record straight.

You see, in the Garden Story below, my beloved Flynn didn't actually take the pink watering can away. At least not in this particular episode.
I lied, because it really went well with the pictures...and, well, that's usually the case.

But in the event these blog entries last longer than I do, I didn't want my sweeties looking back & reading falsehoods.

I'd also be lying if I didn't say how much I loved Carlton from Fresh Prince. Clickety-click-click, for a Happy Monday.