I swore, when Angelina and Alexander were babies, that I’d never be one of THOSE moms — the ones who are always hurrying the kids along, getting annoyed when they dawdle. I did really well for the first three or four years but, after the divorce, I found myself more and more telling the kids, “c’mon!” and “hurry up!” Now, it seems like that’s at least 75% of my communication with them, and that is NOT the kind of mom I want to be!

I’ve been trying to do better, and I did pretty well today, ‘though I slipped up a couple of times. I took the kids for a walk this afternoon. It was supposed to be a quick walk around the block — it was really hot and I wanted to get back inside — but there were puddles everywhere from an earlier rain shower, and the kids wanted to stop and splash. I’m sad to report that my first instinct was to tell them, “stop splashing and come ON!” I caught myself before I actually said it, and I stopped walking, and just watched them splash. Christina thought it was hilarious, and laughed out loud at their antics. They took their shoes off and put them in the stroller, and continued splashing in their bare feet.

We saw a couple of larger puddles further up the road, so we headed on to the next one. It was a pretty dirty puddle, the edges full of dirt and rocks, and I had them check it for sharp objects before they started splashing. Angelina wanted to kneel in the water, and I told her no, I didn’t want her to get her outfit wet. Then I realized that was pretty silly — the outfit can be washed, and she was having so much fun — so I told her to go ahead. I told them both that they could splash as much as they wanted, but as soon as we got home, the wet clothes had to be put directly into the washing machine. They quickly agreed, and practically dove into the puddle. They soon decided that the mud was as much fun as the water, and started picking up handfuls and squeezing it out between their fingers. They also made “mud gloves,” and giggled madly over them. (I got a picture of Alexander’s, but Angelina had already rinsed hers off before I got the camera ready.) I think we were out for almost an hour before Christina started getting fussy.

I really don’t like that my automatic reactions were, “no” and “hurry up!” Most of the time there’s no real reason to hurry, and I really HATE saying “no” all the time! So why do I do it? Sometimes, it might even be faster to say, “yes” and do whatever it is, than it is to try to come up with a reason for having said “no” in the first place! Case in point:

On our way back from our walk, I told the kids that we would see about getting out the little plastic pool for the backyard. When we got home, I told Clint that I’d probably need his help getting it down. He asked why it needed to be done right now, then went into the other room for something. I decided to go see just how hard it was going to be, and discovered that I could get it down myself. I got the hose and started rinsing out the pool. Clint came out and asked why I was doing that, since he’d just spent the last ten minutes telling the kids that we weren’t going to do that today. I didn’t know that’s what he’d been doing, and by the time he was done telling me all that, I was already filling the pool. It took a minute to get the hose hooked up properly, but once it was, we were able to leave it and go inside. Yes, doing it took a little longer than explaining to the kids why he’d said “no,” but not all that much longer. . . .

I guess that’s my homework for the week: try to stop those automatic, unthinking “no’s” and “hurry’s.”

Wish me luck!

CLINT ADDS: It is easy to just say no, and we do have to watch for that, but in this case, Carole had spent the previous two hours doing things for and with the kids (not including taking them for a nice, long walk that morning). We’ve been telling them off and on for the weeks leading up to summer and since they started their break that they’d need to occupy themselves sometimes and not rely constantly on me and Carole to find things for them to do. They’re still learning—after being in school non-stop for three years it will take some time—but to learn it they do have to actually do it. So I told Carole not to worry about the pool for the day—she’d already done plenty to entertain the kids that day—and told the kids it was one of those times for them to occupy themselves for a while and give their mommy a break. Unfortunately she didn’t realize that’s what I was doing. So we let them go, with the understanding that what I said was still going to apply to some things.

Not all “no”s are created equal. Yes, sometimes it’s easier to just say “yes,” but sometimes a “no” is more appropriate. The art of parenting, something Carole and I are still working out, is determining which ones are the most important. I think it’s a credit to Carole that she says, “Yes,” as often as she does. If anyone around here is prone to “no”s, it’s me. The Greeks had it right: the dose is the poison.