*climbs up on my Soapbox*

Dear Parents at Dollar General Picking Out Yet Another $5 Piece of Crap Toy That Your Child Doesn’t Need Just to Shut Him/Her Up:

Stop it.

Stop trying to avoid their efforts towards receiving attention from you with more useless plastic crap so you can keep texting your friends and checking your Facebook.  It’s bad enough that you let them sit in front of a television or with a video game for hours on end at home so that you need not be interrupted; it’s worse that you can’t even perform mundane tasks without distracting your child from YOU.

Wait, please make sure you pause for a moment to take a cute picture with your phone of you and your “babies” who mean the whole world to you so you can post that online as well.  Then check it incessantly to feed your ego with the number of “likes” or heartfelt comments like “Awwwww!  So Sweet!” or, my personal favorite, ” <3 it!”

I want to slap you.

While I’m at it, will you also stop stuffing them full of fast food as a “treat” so you can get them to, again, be quiet and not interrupt you while you’re absorbed in your own interests?   Newsflash:  when they get special fun Kids Meals 5 times a week (complete with additional crappy plastic toys), it stops being a thrill and begins being a lifestyle.

Here’s a great idea:  how about parenting for a change?

Teach them to read. Too young?  Then read to them.  Have them make up a story for you.

Create something.  Get out the cornstarch and food coloring and make some paint or play dough.  Too messy for you?  How about just drawing pictures or coloring in a book?

Get outside.  Take a walk.  Find a playground and play together.  Pitch a tent in the yard, or even in the living room, and have a picnic.  Plant something.

Teach them to cook, or maybe even just to make a sandwich.   Let them stuff some celery, or stir a cake mix, or toss a salad.  They will need to eat their entire lives; teach them how to use a kitchen and do it well.

No matter what you do, try turning your phone off once in awhile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Since our daughter (aka The Middle Child) travels for work 4 days a week, our 8 year old grandson E stays with us when his Mom is out of town.  It’s a double edged sword:  love having the opportunity to spend this kind of time with him; bummed that the situation calls for structure to make things consistent for him, which means I can’t be the Barrels O’ Fun Grandma that he’s become accustomed to all the time.  Now we tackle homework, expose him to vegetables that he doesn’t want to be introduced to, and put standard litanies on auto-play:  “Please take your plate to the kitchen”, “Hang up your towel”, “Did you brush your teeth?”, “No TV until reading time is done”, and the most frequent phrase “I didn’t hear you flush.”

In the spirit of keeping life consistent for young E, I gave him chores to do on Saturday.

10:00 a.m.

Me:  E, it’s time we all get our chores done.  You’re going to dust in the living room, and vacuum your bedroom.

E:  What do you mean, vacuum?  I don’t know how to do that.  My Mom does that at our house.

Me:  Well, we’ll teach you how to do it.

E:  I don’t want to learn.

Me:  Well, you can either have fun with it, or not, but you’re going to do it.

E:  I don’t think I’m supposed to.  How long is all this going to take?

Me:  If you get to work, about 30 minutes.

E:  30 minutes?  How about 10?

Me:  How about more rooms to clean?

E:  OK, I’ll dust first.

10:10 a.m.

Hubby:  Where’s E?

Me:  Huh?  I thought he was dusting in the living room?

10:11 a.m., E is discovered laying on the couch, having dusted about 2 square inches of the entertainment center.

Me:  What are you doing, buddy?

E:  My stomach hurts.  I can’t bend.

Me:  Really?  You’re going to pull the stomach ache routine?  Not going to work, buddy.

E:  This happens all the time!  Once I was running and my stomach started hurting and I had to sit down.  You can ask my Mom!

Me:  OK.  Off to bed with you then.  You can finish when you feel better.

10:40 a.m., E stumbles out of his room.

Me:  Better?

E:  I guess.  Do I have to finish?

Me:  Of course you have to finish.

E:  I don’t want to.  It’s Saturday.  I want to play with my DS.

Me:  Too bad, Monkey.  You know, when your Mom was your age, she had more chores to do than this, and she turned out OK.

E:  She would have turned out better if she didn’t have to do all this cleaning stuff.

12:30 p.m. – Hubby has finished cleaning the carpets (see previous post about Pickle’s little root beer adventure), I’ve scrubbed the toilets, done E’s laundry, washed windows, and did the Lime Away thing on the faucets and shower heads.  E is about halfway through dusting one room.

1:30 p.m. – Finally, E has completed his chores properly.  I’m exhausted not from the housework, but from the endless encouragement and guidance.  I had forgotten what hard work it is to develop all those highly sought after character traits in little people.   I need a freakin’ nap.

Next week, I think I’ll put him on Dog Poop Duty in the yard.  That should pretty much guarantee a new enthusiasm for dusting and vacuuming.