Parenting Other People's Children

This one is always sticky.

We have a neighbor girl (let's call her Jill) who was in Boy Two's kindergarten class last year.  Jill lives across the street and is the only child living at her house full-time so she is often bored and in need of other children with whom to play.  By default, my children have become her playmates of choice.

Because our little townhouse doesn't really have a back yard to play in, we spend most of our outside time in the common driveway and minimal surrounding landscape shared by our subdivision.  Thus as soon as we exit the house, neighbor Jill sees us and clamors for our attention.  My children (for the most part) love to play with other children and are flattered that others want to play with them, but tend to end up disappointed with the progression of the playtime.

For example:

• Jill will invite Boy Two and (occasionally) Girl over to her house to play in the yard, but she never invites Boy One (whose feelings are characteristically hurt by this).
• Jill will insist on playing with the majority of Boy Two's horses herself, but refuses to even let him touch the 'special' horses that she brings over.  Her rules for playing with her personal belongings are numerous and convoluted, subject to change without notice.
• When Boy Two is excited he tends to stutter quite a bit, as he has so much that he wants to share so quickly.  Jill has taken to mocking his stuttering when she comes over.  He either doesn't notice or doesn't know what to do about it, but I have to restrain myself from being mean back to her.
• Jill brings her own bike over, but will ride the boys' bikes whenever she feels like it.  When Boy One asked with mild protest why she was riding his bike and not her own, she flippantly retorted "Because I felt like it."  My kids have been trained to ask before they borrow, and this behavior shocked them all.
• When Boy Two excitedly asked Jill if she wanted to know what he named his toy horse, Jill indifferently replied "Something dumb I'll bet."  I find it hard not to glare at her.
• When Jill asked Girl if she could undo the carefully plaited braid that I had made in her dolly's hair, Girl said no but Jill did it anyway.  Then, when she couldn't make the dolly's hair do what she wanted, Jill took out her impatience and annoyance on Girl, as if it were her fault.  It was easy to see that this kind of scene had been played out in Jill's house often as she parodied her parents.
• Jill refuses to take turns when playing games like Hide and Seek with my kids and often changes the rules to suit herself or just stops playing when she gets bored, which is often.  I know this is typical child behavior, but that doesn't make me like it.

I finally claimed the last straw the other day when Jill asked Girl to bring her certain tools from the garage.  I quietly reminded Girl in Jill's hearing that Mama's rules specifically forbid her from getting those tools.  Jill waited a minute, and then again asked Girl to bring her the tools, and Girl (ever wanting to be helpful) went off to the garage to find them. 

At this point I began picking up our things and told the children it was time to go inside.  Jill asked why, and I crouched beside her and told her that she was not being respectful of me and my rules by asking my children to undermine me, that it hurt my feelings, and that when she behaves like this it makes me not want to let her come over anymore.  I chose my words very carefully without any malicious undertones, but I could tell that she really took them to heart.  I helped her carry her toys back home and cheerfully thanked her for playing with us, all the while she remained quiet and pensive.

I greatly abhor reprimanding other people's children for behavior that I feel they should know better then to exhibit. 

I obviously understand that all children have the tendency to want to manipulate circumstances towards their own best interest.  I know that the heart is deceitful and desperately wicked.  I know that selfishness, self-absorption, self-satisfaction, self-promotion is the natural tendency of the human condition and is displayed by every human being ever conceived.  I know that God alone changes the human heart.

But I don't know what to do about other people's children.  How much should I protect my kids from the nasty behavior of other kids?  Should I refuse to let them play with all but the most perfect of children? 

Thus far I find it most affective to talk with my children about the behavior of other kids that my children did not like.  They admit that it doesn't make them feel good when others don't share their toys.  Or when kids change rules for games or not take turns.  Or when they say things that aren't kind.  This seems to be fairly effective, but I want so much to do more.

I can't protect them, but what is the best way to guide them?  To help them learn to make wise choices and not be swayed by the poor choices of their peers?

I hate this part of parenting.

On Being A Boy

Step 1
Go for a walk with your parents and alternately run ahead/lag behind to annoy them.

Step 2
When you've exasperated your parents, reluctantly agree to hold your brother's hand to 'keep an eye on each other.'

Step 3
After you've grabbed his hand, reach over and take away the stick that he's holding with his other hand.

Step 4
When he notices, hold the stick as far away as possible so he can't get it back.

Step 5
Once brother's attention is elsewhere, hit him on the head with his own stick.  Just because you can.

Step 6
At the first sign of his protest, nonchalantly toss the stick over your shoulder so you don't look guilty and drop your brother's hand.

Step 7
Distractedly puzzle over why your parents are laughing hysterically behind you.

Who needs a dog?

My young son, who had a deep and abiding love for animals and regularly tells me that he has plans to be a farmer and a zoo keeper when he grows up, is desperate for a pet.

He knows all the reasons that we aren't able to at this time of his life but that hardly makes him feel better.

I had no idea how desperate he was to have something to call his own until he was out shopping with his grandmother one day.

Browsing through a Big Lots! to find something worthy to take home, he spotted it up on a shelf and claimed it forever as his.  "Look!  Pet fish!"

If you're guessing that it's a glass paperweight, you win.

He has proudly shown this to visitors to our house, as well as talked with the neighbors and school personnel as his pet fish.  "They don't move, though," he concedes.

My sweet little boy.

Highlights from the holiday

1. Husband cleaned the garage. 
This may seem paltry to the lay reader but it ranks as my favorite episode of Independence Day weekend.  A mere ten years have eclipsed since our wedding and this is the first instance of this particular event occurring.  And while I didn't exactly broadcast my delight with a bullhorn and sparklers, I was found wriggling with delight at various points throughout the day and grinning stupidly during odd moments.


2. Impromptu sports with my sisters.
While none of us have ever been considered athletic I have always prized their uninhibited alacrity when it comes to games of any kind.  Finding people with that kind of willingness is a feat akin to . . . well, something impressively difficult.
My sisters played an enthusiastic game of wiffle baseball with my kids (which requires surprisingly quick adaptability), round-robin seven-man badminton (also consisting of said children), and invented their own version of golf/football/baseball-with-a-net (the only fall out being when the football went reeling twenty feet into the neighbor's yard.  Good old Dad got it back.).

3. The Molalla Buckeroo Parade
I've either participated in or attended this parade for at least fifteen of the last twenty years.  Bringing my own children adds to the chaos of the event, but now that they are old enough to help carry our unruly load of parade-watching supplies it almost makes up for the five years running where we carried them, carted their stuff, cleaned up their messes, shushed their screaming, dried their tears.  Boy Two enthusiastically rushes out (responsibly!) to pick up the handfuls of candy thrown at him and collects it in Grandpa's cowboy hat.  Girl sits in her own chair between Mama and Auntie and points out the horses and the girls with the pretty dresses.  Boy One eats as many doughnuts as he can get away with.  And then we all complain as we schlepp our stuff four blocks back across town to our waiting cars.  This is one of my favorite family traditions!

4. Catching salamanders
Grandpa's little koi pond has been decidedly quiet the last few years: even since the last of the fish provided a tasty breakfast for a hungry heron.  We assumed it was devoid of all interest until Monday when Girl and I wandered down there to while away the afternoon and were astonished to find a pair of salamanders had set up a nice residence.
I gleefully used the swimming pool net to scoop up the little beings and Girl grabbed them and ran to the house, shouting about her great prize and trying to bring them inside (a decided 'no' from the grandparents put a stop to that).  There were only two salamanders to be divided amongst three children, but they were all so delighted that they actually shared.

The only downside is that the salamanders are probably already hightailing it to someone else's pond where there is less need to perform for your human captors.

Summer

Being the type pf blogger that I am, I will wait an eternity (if it takes that) for something interesting to blog about before actually sitting down to write.

For instance, school ended for the boys about two weeks ago, but other than the fact that Boy Two cried for the rest of the day about how much he would miss it there wasn't much to say.

Also, the boys have learned how to play Battleship (either with each other or myself) and Boy One is actually pretty good.  Except that the little pieces have now been lost forever under Boy Two's bed and may never be recovered.  Another distraction down the drain.

I spent last week tirelessly working with said boys to help them gain confidence and their bikes, and now neither one needs the slightest help - they just trundle out to the driveway and ride in circles for hours at a time.

The boys have collectively lost fifteen teeth in the last two years: three of them in the last two weeks.  When Boy Two smiles at us it looks like his brother belted him.

Boy One's birthday was the first day of summer and, as I have for every birthday in the last four years, I cut and served the cake before I remembered to place the candles.  My children may end up in therapy because I just can't seem to remember this vital childhood staple.

See?  A lot of nothingness.  But we did have one incident that I thought to share.

Boy Two, having gained confidence on his bike, was riding circles around his seated brother on said brother's birthday, making smaller and smaller circles around him chanting "I'm not too close."

Until, fortuitously, the bicycle crashed into seated brother and ran over his head.  Poor Boy One.  On his birthday he's sporting tire tracks on the back of his neck and an inch-diameter chunk of flesh missing from his right eyebrow.

The offending bicycle has been removed from service until a proper court-martial can be conducted.

So much for my hoped-for quiet afternoons.

Can't Read My Poker Face

Even though I had decided not to mention it, I have since concluded that it's a story that needs to be remembered (mostly for its comic timing) and hence will record it here.  I've discovered that as soon as I write something down I promptly forget all about it and only remember when re-reading through old posts.  So has my brain become mush as I've aged.


Myself and some others were set to attend a memorial service on Saturday. 

Unfortunately, our driver was horridly ill with a virus and we left for the drive a little later than we'd planned.

Fortunately, the driver is fast and we shaved some time on the interstate, even catching up to some friends as they drove!

Unfortunately, it was mid afternoon and there were hungry people in the party.

Fortunately, we stopped at a classic burger drive in with terrific fries.

Unfortunately, the drive-in did not have a bathroom and some of us were forced to drive around an unfamiliar part of town looking for one.

Fortunately, with everyone sated, we drove to the service with twenty minutes to spare.

Unfortunately, we found out when we arrived that we were actually fifteen minutes late.

Fortunately, the family didn't seem overly upset with us for our mistimed arrival.

Unfortunately, the service had been held up until we arrived.

More unfortunately, some of us had anticipated having time to change clothes once we arrived and were mildly mortified to realize that would no longer be possible.

Most unfortunately, with a churchful of persons looking on (likely disdainfully; I don't know, I avoided eye-contact with everyone) we were led down the center aisle and seated in the front row.



I must admit that my poker face has gotten better because I don't believe my cheeks even flushed with the mortification that the situation called forth.

The Way to a Man's Heart

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when all else fails, the promise of food will undermine a man's firm resolve.

Women exposed this many years ago.  I believe Eve first demonstrated the theory to rancorous applause in the Garden.

And though as mothers we don't set out to teach our daughters the verity of this theology, even the littlest of girls inherently understand it's power.

Girl demonstrated this to my profound awe and amusement on Monday morning as she attempted to gain her brothers' compliance to play Tea Party.

It would have been a difficult win either way as neither of the boys is particularly fond of staging a soiree with Girl's dollies, and on this day they were much more interested in chasing one another around the house with Nerf guns - a happier inducement by far.

Girl attempted begging.  Bribery.  Threats.  Tears.  Extortion.  Promises.  Pleas.  Nothing chinked their firm resolve.

Until she brought out: the cookies.

I had purchased a box of cookie-shaped cold cereal for her occasional use in tea parties and she admirably put them to good use.  The boys animatedly set up the blanket and arranged the stuffed animals around themselves, and even gladly submitted to Girl's bossy 'rules' about proper behavior.  And all for the sake of a cookie.

I am sure Girl will remember this tactic and put it to good use in the future.