When They're Not

Parenting, I have discovered, is not for the faint of heart.  Some days it takes every ounce of my energy (and then some!) to keep these boys on track to becoming the men I desire them to be.

Last weekend was particularly challenging.  Saturday morning Jack wasn't feeling well, so I sent him upstairs to get the children's tylenol.  Quite suddenly I realized he had been up there a long time and I frantically took the stairs two at a time to figure out what he was doing up there.  I tiptoed down the hall (Josh was asleep in our bedroom at the end of said hall) and found Jack in the bathroom, facing the shower curtain.  He turned around slowly when he heard me.

Everything happened in slow motion as I noticed his cheeks were full as a chipmunk.  

"What are you eating?" I whisper-yelled.

His cheeks flamed red and he muttered through his full mouth, "M&M's..."

I could breathe again.

I was terrified he had tried to give himself a dose of medication, when in fact he had just been sneaking his brother's Potty Treats from the baggy in the linen closet.  He looked so upset.  I sat down on the floor in the bathroom with him and we talked.  I told him that if he wants treats he needs to ask first because it's the right thing to do, and because sneaking is like lying.  It makes our tummies feel bad.

About an hour later I sent him upstairs to get dressed and make his bed, and again discovered he had been gone much longer than necessary.  This time I crept quietly up the stairs, so as to arrive undetected, and spied him from the top step in the bathroom.  He had my tiny glass measuring cup (with the spout) that we've been using to water our plants and was filling it up and pouring it onto the bathroom counter and watching as it cascaded in a waterfall onto the rug below.  I watched as he did this three times, studying intently the overflow hole in the sink.  I think he thought if he poured the water onto the counter that it would somehow siphon into the sink, and come out the overflow hole.

In any event, he was making a huge mess, had not made his bed, and was still not dressed.  Again, when he discovered my presence, his cheeks reddened and he apologized profusely.  I told him that if he wants to play in the water, he need only ask!  And that if I can't trust him to do as he's asked, he won't be allowed upstairs alone.

I was starting to feel quite frustrated!

Two hours later, after lunch, he frantically came out of the downstairs bathroom, and told me I needed to see this.  I walked into the bathroom and saw bright orange something all over everything.  The wall, the table, the floor, my books, his very arm and Wyatt's potty chair.  It took a moment to register.  Ahh yes, the beautiful, happy orange of Sunkissed Citrus Scentsy wax... 

I took a deep breath, looked into his blue eyes and asked, "Why?"

He began a rambling story about how he wanted to see what the button on the wall plug in did, and that when he pushed it (resetting the power) it turned off the Scentsy plug in.  Nothing he did would turn it back on. So he decided to try pulling the warmer out of the wall and plugging it back in.  Meanwhile, he forgot that the warmer had been on and had a tiny pool of warm wax in its top.

Again I explained to him that if he wanted to know what that button did, he could have just asked me! I would have told him what it did, let him try it and he wouldn't have been in any trouble.  Now there was a disaster in the bathroom, and he was indeed in trouble.  

Josh was home during this part of the day, and he took Jack upstairs for  "Big Boy" talk which consisted of Josh reminding him he's an older brother, an example, and that he needs to think before he acts.  Jack promised to turn his day around and he was saddened to learn that his m&m sneaking meant no dessert for him during family movie night.  

I hated for him to have a consequence, because it makes me sad for him, but I knew it was the right thing to do.  After he came downstairs, the three boys and I started dying easter eggs for Easter Sunday.  While the boys were waiting for the tablets to dissolve in the vinegar, Jack held up the clear crayon that came with our pack and said, "This broke."  I looked at him, waiting for the truth to leave his lips, and when it didn't, I sent him to his room.  I find that in order not to yell or lose my temper, I often need a little separation, so the boys know that when I send them to their room, it's so I can calm down and they can think about their choices.  They still hate it, but they are less resistant now that they know it's so I can use my nice voice!

When I was ready for him to join us again I told him that I wasn't mad he broke the crayon, I was only upset that he wasn't taking responsibility for his actions.  I told him I don't care if he screws up or makes mistakes.  I just don't want him to become a liar.  That if he lies to me all the time, I won't be able to trust him, and that's just no good.

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The next morning we woke up to three grumpy boys and when we were trying to figure out why they were grumpy, it came to light that Logan had woken Jack up, and then Wyatt, by rubbing their backs until they were awake.

We planned to make him sleep in the playroom alone, as this has been our threat for a long while, but that night we decided to give him another chance, praying that he would seize the opportunity to make better choices.  Thankfully he did, and this week waking his brothers hasn't been a problem.  

And lest little brother be left out of the "mischief ways" of his big brothers, Wyatt, too has been testing my limits lately.  I tend to have good manners when asking the boys to help out.  I'll say to Wyatt, "Will you help mommy clean up?"  He will look at me innocently and say, "No thanks.  I want YOU to clean up."

I'll also often ask, "Will you please go potty?" And he'll reply, "No thanks. I don't need to."

"No, thanks" is his go to answer for everything. And while it sounds adorable (and is very polite) let me tell you, it can be, at times, infuriating!  

"Wyatt, eat your dinner." 

"No thanks."

"Wyatt, come here so I can put on your socks."

"No thanks."

"Wyatt, stop doing that."

"No thanks."

He also likes to tell me, "Ohhh! I hate doing that!" Usually about changing his clothes, cleaning up or transitioning activities. He also shrugs his shoulders and says, "I don't know" like he's an emo teenager, and his eye rolls are off-the-charts.  It's a good thing he's cute and I love him!

On the flip side of all this naughty behavior, we do have our fair share of good behavior.  The big boys are consistently clearing their plates from the table, making their beds everyday, cleaning up the playroom with little to no help from me, and are generally being more kind & helpful to each other, which warms my mommy heart.  

I also love how wiling they are to be my helpers when I ask.  They'll switch the laundry, clean the windows, scrub the toilets and sweep the floor with no protests.

But by far my favorite thing about these kids is how thoughtful they can be when they want to be.  Bringing their brothers their favorite stuffed animal when they are hurt, writing me a note when I am having a hard day, or trading toys when they know their sibling desperately wants what they have.

The thing I have to remember is that it's easy to love them when they're being good.  

But it's most important to love them when they're not.

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